//------------------------------//
// Not Coming Home 
// Story: The Ghost Of You 
// by MadMan 
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The sun was shining merrily over the tops of the trees, much in contrast to the ponies below. The assembly was grim and sullen, with few dry eyes. Twilight was no exception, her tears falling silently into the dirt. Looking over, she saw Luna was in a similar situation. She hated it. She felt an extreme aversion to anything that made those she cared about cry, but sometimes, there was nothing to be done for this case. Nature had made a decision, and all they could do was carry on.

Applejack said that Granny Smith passed away quietly in her sleep. The old mare's health had been declining the past few years, but the long march from Ponyville had taken it's toll. The past week had seen Granny Smith bedridden, with the other Apples gathered around. Twilight had come by a few times to talk to the wise old mare, but she had been sleeping most of the time, and too weak for much conversation the rest. 

While the news hadn't been much of a surprise, Twilight realized she wasn't ready for it nonetheless. She had known Granny Smith since her first days in Ponyville. She had always been there, stalwart, never changing, a permanent fixture on the landscape. Twilight, along with the majority of Ponyville, had gone to Granny Smith many times for advice on many matters. Her wisdom was as respected as anypony else's, Princesses included, even if the tongue delivering it was a bit less gentle.

The ceremony was simple and succinct, as befitting the mare they were commemorating. Each of the Apples got in front of the congregation and said a little piece, their voices strong but hearts heavy. Big Mac's was by far the shortest, Applejack's was longer but just as straightforward, but  Applebloom's was by far the saddest, her tiny voice echoing around the gathered crowd. Even the Black Berets were brought to tears by the child's innocent speech, and they had surely attended their fair share of funerals. 

The spot that had been chosen was under a large and ancient oak just beyond the perimeter of the camp. Twilight couldn't have thought of a better place to lay Granny Smith to rest if she had tried. The woods were peaceful, and the tree was gnarled and strong. Some songbirds chattered in the distance, but it seemed to Twilight that the immediate area had fallen silent, as if even the forest was paying it's respects. 

After the speeches, the collected ponies turned to go back to camp, leaving the relations to say their last words in private and bury the simple coffin. The hole had been dug by hoof and so it would be covered, by the sweat of the family. Instead of a gravestone, words were carved into the trunk of the tree. Upon seeing the date, Twilight was reminded that Granny Smith was the last surviving pony to have seen several important historical events. Applejack had said something about trying to document her grandmother's life over the past few weeks, but Twilight didn't know of she had finished the account in time. 

Twilight, as well as the rest of the Ponyville survivors, had been invited to dinner at the Apple tent that evening, but it was barely midday, so Twilight retired to the Black Beret's tent. She sat in the corner and tried to read, but her mind was too restless. She settled for staring at a string fluttering idly in the wind until Nightfury sat down next to her.

"It doesn't matter how many funerals I have to attend, the children's speeches always make me the saddest."

They sat in silence for a moment, as Twilight found a lump obstructing her throat. She watched the string for a few moments longer until she could work her words around it. 

"I guess I should get used to funerals." 

"I pray that you never do."

"It's war. Ponies will die."

"And you should take special care to remember every one of them. When death no longer makes you sad, then you're in trouble."

Twilight could only shake her head. She had always thought of the best soldiers as tough, emotionless warriors, unfearing and unshakable, but she was quickly learning the truth. The hardest part of war is watching those around you die, and learning to cope. The Black Berets were the last ponies in Equestria she had expected to get emotional counselling from, but now she realized that in these certain matters, they were experts. Who knows how to accept death better than a warrior?

The hours somehow passed, and Twilight rose to go to the dinner. She found that she was among the last to arrive. She found her friends at the head of a large table, already laden with food. Once everyone was seated, Applejack stood. She was trying to sound formal at first, which sounded odd to Twilight, but the country in her won out by the end. 

"We gather here tonight to remember Granny Smith. Let us not cry, 'cause Granny wasn't a sad pony. She would want every pony to share with each other their funniest and fondest memories, and smile and laugh. So how about we all tuck in, and do just that?"

The ponies all obliged. The food was as good as could be expected, and by the time the sun went down, everypony was smiling and full. The best stories had been told, the cleverest jokes laughed at, and the sharpest rebukes shared. Everyone had a dozen anecdotes at least, each more homely than the last. After sunset, everyone helped to clean up before retiring for the night, leaving just Applejack, Rarity, Pinkie Pie, Twilight, Rainbow Dash, and Fluttershy sitting around a small table, sharing the last drinks. There they shared more memories, going on until the moon was halfway across the sky. Finally, drooping eyelids forced them all to separate, each going their separate ways. 

As Twilight lay her head on the pillow, she realized she wasn't as sad anymore. Granny Smith had lived a long and full life. Ponies die, and Twilight was glad that the old, cantankerous mare died peacefully and quietly. 

Twilight could only hope she got so lucky.