Grave Implications
It was a Canterlot tradition, and for any other pony it wouldn’t have been that big a deal.
“Twi-light. Spar-kle.” Twilight must have been four at the time; she was a fast learner, but she still had to pronounce every syllable carefully when she read stuff out loud. She looked up after she was done with the first line. “That’s me!”
Twilight Velvet smiled, and patted her daughter’s head. “That’s right, Twilight! You’re such a smart filly.”
Little Twilight wagged her tail—she liked it when she got told she was smart—and then frowned. “Why is my name on this?”
“It’s an old Canterlot tradition, dear.” Velvet patted her head again. “Don’t worry about it.”
But Twilight worried a little bit about it.
Because she might have only been four, but she was already old enough to recognize a tombstone.
It was a Canterlot tradition, and for any other pony it wouldn’t have been that big a deal.
But this was Twilight Sparkle.
“Ah, of course. A tombstone,” the princess said, and there was that particular smile on her face that Twilight would learn to love, but which, at the time, still scared her. “Most fillies are too young to understand what they’re seeing when they buy theirs. But, I suppose, you have always been too sharp for your age.”
Twilight Sparkle, age six and a half, wagged her tail a little. Some things never changed.
“I had forgotten all about it until today,” she admitted, looking down at the book she’d been reading for their lesson. It was an old illustrated edition of a classic, and the picture on page thirty-six—a pony kneeling by a grave, finding an old buried letter that would change his fate—had awakened memories. “Do you know what that was?”
Princess Celestia glowed. To an adult pony, she was tall. To a little filly, she was massive. She blurred the line between love and adoration. “When little fillies become old enough, they buy their tombstone with their mothers,” she explained. “Colts buy it with their fathers.”
“Why?”
“Tombstones were hard to make, long ago,” Celestia explained. She always told her the truth, just like that. She never wondered if Twilight was old enough, because—if she was mature enough to ask, perhaps she deserved an answer. “They were expensive. If somepony died without ever having bought one, sometimes their families would not be able to afford it in time for the funeral. Or perhaps there would be no family there to buy one in the first place.”
Twilight nodded. “And that was bad,” she said.
“Yes. Nopony likes an unmarked grave.” Celestia smiled. “It is not proper. So, ponies started saving up as soon as their children were born, and by the time the kids were four, they could afford the tombstone. Nowadays, they are somewhat cheaper.” She shrugged. “But the tradition lives on.”
“Oh.” Twilight looked back at the picture in the book. The name on the tombstone was written in Old Equestrian, but to Twilight—who couldn’t speak it—it just looked like random scribbles. “That’s kind of sad.”
At six years old, kids don’t really understand death. Unless they’ve lived through it, the concept is simply too abstract. All they understand is that it’s not good. That it’s upsetting.
Celestia was aware of this.
So she simply said: “It is, Twilight. It is kind of sad. In a way.”
And that was that.
Only that wasn’t that.
“It’s… bigger than I expected?”
“Twily.” And behind her, Shining Armor looked around, frowning. “This is macabre.”
“Look at how big this is!” Twilight pointed at her brother’s tombstone, next. “Yours, too!”
“That’s even more macabre.”
It would be still some years until Twilight Sparkle left for Ponyville, and she and her brother were at their family’s attic.
Nopony ever entered the attic. It was full of cobwebs, and old, useless junk.
And tombstones.
“How did you even know these were here?” Shining Armor finally gave in, and followed his little sister. The two tombstones were big; their names were engraved on top, but there was a lot of empty space under it. “Did you ask mom?”
“I didn’t need to,” Twilight said. “I helped her bring mine here right after we bought it.”
“Wait, you remember that?”
“Yeah.” Twilight sat down. By her side, her brother did the same. “Why are they so big?”
Shining Armor made a face.
He didn’t want to be there. This had been Twilight’s idea. Their neighbor’s kid—adorable little colt, Twilight had never spoken a word to him—had turned four the previous day; the sounds of the party next door had been heard around the entire house.
That had made Twilight remember, all of a sudden, and remembering had made her curious. Then she had dragged her brother along, because the attic was, frankly, a little too full of cobwebs.
“I mean, they bought them when we were four,” Shining was saying. “So there’s no way to know what we’ll do later in life, and what kind of things they’ll have to write in here when they, uh. Bury us. The more things you achieve, the bigger this thing has to be.”
“So they left all this free space?”
“I guess mom and dad expect a lot from us, yeah.”
“Right.” Twilight sighed. “It’s so weird we never talk about this, don’t you think? These are our tombstones. We’re only going to use these after we die. I’ll never understand this tradition.”
Shining Armor smirked, all of a sudden, and elbowed his sister. Because he didn’t like to be there, but big brothers have priorities. “What,” he said. “You scared?”
And Twilight elbowed him back, smiling. “Shut up. Don’t you think this is weird?”
“Eh.” He shrugged. “I guess it makes sense.”
“Really? Because I don’t think I would have trouble buying a tombstone a little later.”
“Nah, it’s not about that.” Shining Armor pushed his tombstone, to see if he could nudge it a little. He could not. It was quite heavy. “I think these are for mom and dad.”
And Twilight blinked. “Really?”
Some siblings aren’t teachers; they’re allies. They don’t wait until you’re older, they share all they’ve got, as soon as they get it. Most of the time, they don’t really know what they’re doing.
“I think this is meant to make you realize you’re going to die one day when you buy it,” Shining said. “So you figure that you have to teach your kid how to live well, and that you have to plan for the day you’re gone, and all that stuff.”
Twilight frowned. “That’s why you think we buy tombstones? To teach responsibility?”
“Well, if you’re old enough to have a four year old kid, you need to start thinking in the long term. And we are all going to die one day. I guess you have to really internalize it if you want to make the most out of life or something.”
Twilight said nothing. She just kept looking at her tombstone, and how big it was. How big it felt.
Shining Armor was right. She was going to die one day.
He was still talking. “I guess buying your kid’s tombstone is perfect for that sort of thing, because they’re your kids, and all that? So it’s shocking. It’s a good substitute. Nopony remembers when they bought their own tombstone anyway.”
“But…” Twilight scratched the back of her neck. “But I remember. I don’t always think about it, but I remember it.”
“Well, then I guess you just learned that lesson early.”
The very first night after Twilight became an alicorn, she came to Celestia’s chambers. When she knocked, what she heard was:
“Open the door, Twilight Sparkle. I have been waiting for you.”
And when she did, she found Celestia smiling.
Through all those years, she had never really lost that glow. Now that Twilight was taller—taller than ever—Celestia’s size seemed more normal, but she still towered over everypony else. She still filled the room.
She did not toe the line between love and adoration anymore, though. Twilight knew perfectly well where they both stood.
“Princess Celestia.”
“Twilight.” Celestia’s tone was soft like silk. “I am so proud of you.”
“Thank you. I, er.” Twilight smiled, scratched the back of her neck. “I hope I didn’t wake you up?”
“As I said…” Celestia gestured towards the little table she kept in her chambers, by the bed. It had two chairs. “I was waiting for you. May I offer you something to drink?”
“No, thank you.” Twilight sat down.
And Celestia did the same. “You wanted to ask me something,” she said. “Something that you have been wondering for the last few hours, have you not?”
Teachers and parents never really stop seeing through you. Twilight had long learned to stop trying to prevent it. “Yeah,” she said, looking down, frowning. “Princess? Am I… immortal, now?”
Celestia didn’t immediately reply. She took her time looking around at the window, the bed, the closet in the corner, before addressing Twilight. “That is a difficult question, Twilight,” she said. “Why do you want to know?”
“I—” Twilight closed her mouth. Frowned. Started again. “I… don’t know if you remember this, Princess, but when I was four years old, my mother and I—”
“You went to buy your tombstone?” Celestia asked.
“Yes.” Twilight nodded. “And I never forgot. I don’t want to say I’ve always been thinking about it, but it’s… definitely been in the back of my mind.”
“Of course.”
“And I always just—I try not to focus too much on it.” Twilight tapped a hoof on the table. “But I’ve always been conscious that I’ll die one day, and that’s why I try to… make the most out of every day. That’s why I always tried to read every book, and why I want to know so much about friendship, and—”
“And why you solved Starswirl’s last spell?” Celestia added with a smile.
Twilight nodded, again. “I have to give it my all,” she said. “And I have to plan ahead. Because one day it’ll be over. And that’s sad, but it’s also—I have to just accept it and move forward and not waste a single second. Because dying is inevitable, right?” And here, Twilight hugged herself, and looked down. “Or so I thought.”
There was a moment of silence.
And then Princess Celestia got up from the table.
Twilight flinched, and started to get up too, but then Celestia looked at her and rose a hoof, smiling. “Wait in there,” she said. “I am not going anywhere. I simply need to grab something.”
“Oh.”
Celestia then crossed the entire room, and opened the closet by the corner. She started rummaging through it. “I do not know if you are immortal, Twilight Sparkle,” she said. “There is only one way to find out, and by the time we do, it will be too late. That said, I do not think you should worry.”
Twilight saw Celestia grab a very wide scroll from the closet, and come back to the table, before she opened her mouth again. “I shouldn’t?” she asked.
“No.” Celestia smiled. “I understand the tombstone tradition might be macabre, but I also believe it teaches us something… very valuable.” She seemed to taste the words in her mouth before speaking them, swish them around like one would do with wine. “Live every day to the fullest, because one day, it will all be over. It is not a bad sentiment. It has brought you far.”
Twilight blushed. Under her seat, her tail wagged slightly. Some things never change. “Thank you.” Then the blush went away. “But, still…”
Celestia nodded, as if Twilight had said something perfectly understandable. “Parents always buy big tombstones,” she explained, “so that they can fit all the achievements of their children.”
“Yeah, I’ve seen mine.”
And Celestia smiled. “For your parents, that gesture means hope. It means a promise. For the children, sometimes, it means a challenge. The bigger the tombstone, the more things you need to do in your life. The less time you can waste away doing nothing.”
Celestia opened the scroll.
It was a map of Equestria, but it was a strange one. Most major cities weren’t there, or if they were, they were smaller than they should. The mountains and forests weren’t quite in the same place. Some rivers were thinner, while others were much wider.
Twilight looked at it, and saw the brown hue of the ink, and frowned. “Princess,” she said. “This is… very old.”
“It is.” Celestia caressed the map. “Millennia have passed. The land has shifted. But this is how it was, at first. How it was created.”
“…Created?”
“Look at it.”
Twilight did.
At first, she saw nothing. But soon enough, Twilight started noticing a pattern—the mountains, the rivers, the forests. They weren’t placed at random.
They looked like scribbles if you didn’t know the language, but Twilight wasn’t six and a half years old anymore, and she could speak Old Equestrian just fine.
The very world spelled one massive, ancient word.
CAELESTIA
Twilight felt a sharp breath leave her lungs.
Celestia saw this, and looked out the window once again. “I do not know,” she said, “if I am immortal, either. There is only one way to find out, and by the time we do, it might be too late.” She closed her eyes. “I have never let that stop me.”
“You have a tombstone, too,” Twilight whispered, looking up from the map, at the princess. “And we’re all walking on it.”
Celestia smiled. “Your parents were more reasonable than mine when they got you yours. Their challenge was not as difficult. But the principle is still the same.”
“So you also live your life to the fullest.”
“Once we are gone, Twilight Sparkle, all that will be left of us is the things we did while alive. Challenges are important. They give us a reason to keep going.” Celestia finally looked back at Twilight. “That’s what my parents taught me.”
“Right.” Twilight looked at her hooves, flapped her wings slightly. “So, this… Me becoming a princess… It’s not the end, then? It’s just the beginning? I still shouldn’t waste any time?”
Celestia shook her head. “You have achieved incredible things in your lifetime, Twilight, and your tombstone is much smaller. But there will always be more space somewhere else to write down the things you did in life. Do you think it is worth the risk, not to be the best you can be, then?”
Twilight didn’t need to think about this.
She’d known the answer since she’d been four years old.
“Princess?” she asked.
“Yes?”
“I think I’m going to need a bigger tombstone.”
And the smile on Celestia’s face could have lit the whole night sky, and under the chair, so subtly that Twilight almost didn’t notice it, she wagged her tail. “Better start saving up, then,” she said. “I believe they are quite expensive.”
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These are my Patreon supporters with a $5 tier or higher, and this is the special small-story shoutout I do for them. Story’s so short and shoutout got so big I had to put it in the first comment rather than in the author note. Cheers!
I... wow! This is quite interesting. The moral is unbelievably powerful and really helps bring the concept of dealing with death into a different light. For me personally I never really feared death as much as others, mostly because I'm from a religious household where we believe death to only be temporary, but despite that, I never really considered the even in this scenario time is still precious and it's best if you get done what you can while you can. This is no doubt a useful message for people who believe death is the end and there is nothing afterward.
Really good story I really liked it keep up the good work.
Wow.
Aragon is cute.
Dammit.
So, they buy tombstones early. Are plots of land in a graveyard booked at the same time?
9480862
What the hell is wrong with you, and how do I replicate it for myself?
This...is quite the interesting piece. A creative way to express a moral. Have a thumbs up.
that's one way of dealing with your tombstone. maybe you should start telling people about your family's non-existent tradition.
Should probably be a comma after Twilight I think?
"on her face could have lit up the whole night sky" I think.
I really like seeing little pieces like this that focus on characters and do it well. Also I would love to see how Celestia's tombstone gets filled out, that might be a bit... disruptive.
After enough time has passed, I always forget that you're capable of writing non-comedic stories with the same wit and skill as your comedies. And you always remind me that, no, you're actually capable of writing incredibly powerful stories in multiple genres. The twist was neat, too, and sent chills down my spine when I got to it, so kudos for the execution.
if equestria is celestia Tombstone then what is luna's?
9481038
I like to think the stars spelled her name once. Maybe it's just the moon. Or everybody's dreams put together.
I had a couple ideas but the question never reallly came up in the story and I thought it'd be better to leave it ambiguous, so every reader can sorta come up with whatever answer they like the most.
9481005
Joke's on you, but -- as you probably already knew -- this is kinda based in real life. My family bought my grave when I was like 2 or 3 years old, and I've always found that to be one of the funniest fucking things. Like. The level of foresight. They gave me one look and went 'oh shit yeah better safe than sorry'. Priceless.
Mr. Numbers was involved?
No thanks...
Wisdom
LEN NARD was here...
Just wanted to put that there so people would know I was here when I'm gone.
Dang, I loved this! Really thought-provoking piece with a very well put-together plot! That bit with Celestia's tombstone was a nice touch!
Really good job! I loved it!
It is a weird sort of whip lash to go from your serious stuff right from your comedy stuff. Except your comedy stuff has this weird core of seriousness to it? And your serious stuff is always a little absurd?
Basically good job.
9481038
Alfalfa, green olives, three kinds of peppers, and double cheese.
9481058
Whatever your personal reservations, I’d encourage you to separate the art from the artist. This is quite a good story with a strong moral. Who honestly cares who edited it?
Also why am I up at 4am
9481058
I'm afraid to say I think I've had a hand in almost every Aragon story that's come out in the last five years.
My beliefs aren't necessarily a reflection of his, though, or vice versa.
This is so awesome I've got to steal a chunk of it for Green Grass. Kudos.
9481196
I repect your beliefs. I just can't respect the chaos caused by you voicing them with misinformed logic and then taking steps insure informed debate would never happen...
9481270
Can you not do this on a completely unrelated story comment section?
9481271
I commented on why I couldn't support this story... He technically started on me for it.
9481285
And your comment about not being able to support this story was soooooooooo necessary in the first place.
9481285
So because you don't like the editor you're going to not support this story? If so why did you come here to leave a comment?
9481298
Its everyone's god given right to state their opinion. Demeaning mine in a sarcastic manner hardly makes your's any better...
9481310
You do realize that its everyone's right to state their opinion too?
9480862
Each of these are gold in their own right and I would fucking love to see more of these. I laughed more at them than I did any of your stories. I'm... really not sure if that's insulting or a compliment but I'm throwing it as the latter.
I love it.
This was absolutely impeccable. Of course I expected nothing less, but I was really blown out of the water by this one. The prose especially is so tight and well-oiled without losing any natural cadence or atmosphere
Unf
I swear that’s a roll of quarters in my pocket honestLiterary fetishes aside, the actual plot delivering a fresh(er) take on the classic alicorn immortality trope is great. Already a sucker for alicorn immortality played straight, this minor subversion puts it a cut above; it makes it from being just another (if expertly written) epitome of the genre to something that stands on its own feet. The anti-nihilism is also very tactfully and powerfully applied; whereas Ozymandias is left hanging on the existential thought of time’s passage, the story here deviates in showing the characters’ persisting in spite of it.
Something something the limited nature is what makes life so valuable etc etc
Phenomenal work.
9481310
Just because it’s your right to have an opinion doesn’t make it not stupid
Hey, I know this is crazy, but let's talk about the story or something.
I like it.
Where's Luna's tombstone, though?
Good story but now I have SERIOUS questions about Celestia's mother...
And if Luna felt all slighted because she didn't get a tombstone, that explains why she went full Goth for NMM...
9481285
When you have to include the word technically there it's usually a bad sign.
Seriously, this is just petty.
Lovely piece of work! And I generally go with the theory that Alicorns are immortal until something kills them (like all of us
)
And now imagine Luna, on the moon, looking down and seeing that.
9481430
In space no one can hear you REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Huh. That, is actually an interesting way to see things. Carpe Diem.
9480862
What is it with you and lightbulbs?
9481049
wait i thought it was your uncle's with the same name.
I love little parables like this. Thanks for writing.
This piece is the first piece of yours that I have read. I enjoyed it, and will continue to read your work. Good job.
How deliciously morbid.
9481285
Grow up.
Do the respectable thing and delete your petty comments.
They have nothing to do with this story and are a poor reflection on you and what you support.
To the author:
A wonderfully reflective piece !
One could say that the threads of continuation written throughout this story are quite relevant as we move from G4 to G5.
A very novel piece of world-building. This will make it into the headcanon of many.
Added to the top shelf of my Bookshelf.
Luna's tombstone is on the dark side of the moon, isn't it?
This was sad, uplifting, heart-breaking and funny.
10/10, take all of my bits and upvotes.
The lucky ones, anyway.
I was, what seven or eight, not six - my eldest sister was three or four, though - but yeah; we've been there, done that.
Dunno what amde me think of it specifically; odd mood this morning.
(That probably killed thre mood, sorry. I woke up after having a dream in which Kim Possible discovered that the Centurions had all died some time ago and Crystal Kane was desparately carrying on, trying to save the world by using clones of them created from the patter buffers in the teleporters. Which on waking examination was a mostly-plausible/workable crossover scenario and I don't EVEN my subconscious.)
Where is this from? I feel like this is based on something. The closest I have of an idea is from Mexican culture where family and friends plan their burials and grave sites at young age. As it is, my mother, her mother and I already have our places set. I had chosen my place at 13.
9481196
What beliefs?
9481896
The kind that you don't ask about in a story that has nothing to do with them, as everybody else has pointed out already, thank you very much.
9481890
Eh not really based on anything per se. I just thought of the story. As I indicated in an earlier comment, though -- my family did buy me a grave when I was like, 2-3 years old, so I kinda riffed on that because I found it funny, and then made up a tradition and a story and all that stuff from there.
9481904
Cool. That should be a tradition in somw form. As a Hispanic we celebrate death as something beautiful and wonder. To be happy for those that have lived and made it through life and are suffering no more.