//------------------------------// // Debrief // Story: Do Not Go Gentle // by ShinigamiDad //------------------------------// Twilight was poring over her notes as a guard deposited a book and pair of scrolls on the growing pile covering her side table. She heard a stifled yawn, and turned to see Luna awaken. “Oh, Princess Luna!” she cried happily, “how are you, have you been…” She stopped short when she saw Luna’s pained expression and hollow eyes. “Luna!” Twilight whispered quietly, “what’s happened to you?” “It’s been a bad few hours for the Princess, I’m afraid,” came Reaper’s answer from behind Twilight. She jumped to her feet, upsetting the side table, spilling ink. “S-sorry! You startled me!” Reaper smiled and began rearranging the toppled table and its contents. “Is she OK?” Twilight asked. “She’s made of tough stuff--she’ll be OK...” he glanced over Twilight’s shoulder at Luna’s slumped form, “in a bit.” Twilight turned to face Reaper, her ears laying down slightly: “What happened?” He took a deep breath and let it out with a tired ‘whoosh.’ “Step up, Princess--it’s time for your next debriefing.” Again Reaper locked eyes with Twilight and watched the growing horror on her face as he poured out his memories. Twilight whimpered and twisted, trying to pry her gaze from Reaper’s: “Pl-please! Let me go! Don’t show me any more!” “Just another moment, Twilight--sorry, it has to be done.” He leaned in one last time, then turned his head away. Twilight gasped and fell backward as though stunned, one eye flickering shut, a trickle of saliva running from the corner of her mouth. She dropped heavily on her cushions and wept: “Did she really kill Sea Foam? What are we looking for?!” She flopped face-first into a pillow and let wracking sobs overtake her. Reaper shook his head a little, and walked to the side table containing the carafe of hard cider. His horn glowed as he lifted it and a goblet into the air, and walked back to the two princesses. He floated a filled cup in front of Twilight’s muzzle, then reconsidered. He poured half of the cider back, and placed the cup before Twilight again. “Have a bit to drink, kiddo--it’ll help clear your head,” he said. Twilight struggled to sit upright, apologizing as she did so: “I-I’m so sorry! It’s just all too much!” She took the goblet between her hooves, and lifted it to her trembling lips; a bit dribbled as she took a long drink, shaking the whole time. She dropped the empty cup absently, and wiped her mouth with the back of her right hoof. “What happened in the cave?” she asked, “did--did you get any sense of what went on in there? Was the--the thing there? Maybe it was controlling the situation...” Reaper bit his lip for a moment, but Luna responded before he could: “No, Twilight, I am to blame, here. The terror I unleashed on that poor pony was the cause of her death.” “OK, but like I said,” interjected Reaper, “I’m not at all sure as to how that “thing,” as Twilight put it, is related to you. I’m still not convinced you’re the direct cause of its manifestation.” Twilight furrowed her brow and glanced at the side table, but held her tongue. Luna stood, and walked over to the scorched tree, picking absently at its blackened leaves. “Yes, so you’ve said,” she responded. “Regardless, I’m clearly the catalyst for this “thing,” and must therefore bear the burden of its evil!” Reaper rolled his eyes: “Again with the self-flagellation, Luna?” He took a swig from the carafe. “Look at this--I don’t even eat or drink, and you have me downing cider!” He slammed the container down on the side table and continued: “And please use the past tense--you were the catalyst for this thing! Maybe! This constant wallowing in old deeds is clouding your judgement!” Luna drew herself to her full height and took a deep breath: “Very well. I shall try to keep some detachment from these “old deeds,” as you call them, but it is not easy. We can’t all be bloodless agents of entropy!” Reaper’s eyebrows jumped: “No--some of us clearly enjoyed the bloodier aspects of entropy, and that’s kind of why we’re having trouble sorting signal from noise, here!” Twilight gasped. “Reaper! Luna!” she cried, scrambling to her hooves, trying to put herself between the two. Reaper took a step back and sat heavily on the floor with a sigh. Luna glared at him. “OK,” he said, “you’re right: I’m usually pretty detached about all of this. I’ve seen hundreds of thousands of ponies die during my millennia in Equestria, more than I care to count. The actual death of one pony, more or less, is just a line-item to me.” He tipped his head up and made eye contact with Luna, now towering above him. “But this is different. These ponies: Haymaker, Firebrand, Dew Drop, Sea Foam, and undoubtedly scores more, didn’t die--they were erased or consumed or something far more awful than just dying and moving on past the circles of this world.” He stood and closed in on Luna, nearly touching noses; she stood stock-still, nostrils flaring. “And all the crimes you ever committed in a mere thousand years pale to insignificance in the face of that, Princess!” He turned to Twilight: “Haymaker was destroyed in a moment of torment, believing he had ultimately failed even Snow Sprite--the foal he had actually saved that day! He will never have the chance in the time beyond this world to heal from that and close his book of life--he may as well have just never existed in the first place!” Reaper stepped back from Luna, whose expression had softened a bit. “That’s why we have to keep going back in, no matter how ugly it gets for all of us,” Reaper concluded. “It’s one thing to end a life--it’s an entirely different thing to destroy one.” He looked up at the ceiling, searching again for the little, bright eyes in the shadows. “Even if that means Luna really is responsible for this thing?” Twilight asked in a small, shaky voice. Luna closed her eyes. “Especially then,” Reaper replied heavily, letting his head drop. He couldn’t spot the eyes.