A Matter of Mortality or Dealing with Death

by TalkingwiththeRain

A Matter of Mortality or Dealing with Death

Twilight Sparkle raised her head from her book, blinking. Once the post-reading brain-fog cleared, she was able to identify exactly what had been tickling at the back of her brain while she was trying to finish her paragraph.

“You want to do what?”

Spike, her dragon assistant, glanced up. “Seriously?”

“What do you mean, ‘seriously’? You said you wanted to do something, right?”

“Yeah,” Spike carefully wiped down the cover of 100 Little Known Facts About Changelings with the cloth in his talons and sighed. “Like, five minutes ago.”

“What!?” Twilight started, amazed. She was sure she’d finished that paragraph in just a couple of seconds. “You’re exaggerating...”

“I’ve been timing you, actually.” The little dragon held up the volume for examination, nodded, and placed it onto one of the book piles that surrounded him. He’d found a stack in the middle where he could sit as he worked, and all the others had somehow morphed around him to resemble a small throne of knowledge. “Five minutes since I said a word. I keep telling you, your reaction time is way off when you’re reading.”

The lavender pony gave a little laugh, her cheeks turning a shade pinker. “Sorry.”

He hadn’t said it, but he didn’t need to. Once again, Spike had caught her in the act of reading the books while they were supposed to be cleaning the books. She couldn’t help it—if a good book that she hadn’t read in awhile just happened to be between her hooves, did it really matter why it was there in the first place? But still, it wasn’t a good excuse to be slacking off; especially when Spike was working hard so they could finish this project by the end of the day.

I can’t believe it took me five minutes to respond. Good thing it wasn’t an emergency.

“Sorry,” she repeated. “It’s just, I opened at the climax and it was about to end—”

Spike raised a scaly eyebrow. “The same way it did last time?”

Twilight gave him a long deadpan stare before bothering to reply. “Yeah. But I like the ending.”

Levitating her discarded cleaning rag over to her, she briskly rubbed down the book in her hooves and placed it carefully on one of the book piles that surrounded her. Actually, there wasn’t anything in the room that wasn’t surrounded by books in some shape or form. Whenever that phenomenon called ‘spring cleaning’ came to Spike and Twilight’s home in the Golden Oaks Library, every single book was taken off the shelves, stacked into a piles, and wiped down thoroughly. To make matters even more complicated, the volumes couldn’t be replaced until after the shelves were also cleaned. And that was why Twilight found herself in room covered in mountains made up of the masses of books that the library housed, with the flooring only visible through carefully patterned paths that led to the other rooms in the library—so the pony and dragon wouldn’t be trapped in the main room for the day.

Again...

Twilight bit her lip at that memory and turned back toward Spike. “If you had actually read the book, you’d understand what I—”

“Twi! Watch your wings!”

As Twilight had been talking, her wings had unconsciously unfurled and brushed up against a precarious tower of books. Luckily, Spike’s warning helped the mare realize what had happened just as the pile started to tip and she quickly caught the falling volumes with her magic.

“Wow, that was close. Thanks.” The book pile was magically taken apart and restructured into a steadier formation as she spoke.

Spike let out a sigh of relief. “Gosh, you scared me.”

“A few books falling on me is hardly anything to be worried about, Spike,” Twilight said, bemused. “Remember, I spent more times with books than with ponies at one point—there were plenty of times I got book-bashed.”

“Yeah, I know,” Spike winced and rubbed his head, apparently remembering a few of those times himself. “But you should still be careful! Remember that article in the paper about the two librarians in the Manehattan library? A shelf fell over and almost crushed them flat!”

Twilight stared at him. She couldn’t help rolling her eyes, just a little.

“First of all, I’m ninety-percent sure whoever wrote that article made the whole incident up. Second, it said it was a bookshelf. There’s a big difference between a shelf made out of heavy wood and a few books you know—”

“Yeah, I know, I know…” Spike grumbled, growing sulky. His argument had been thoroughly trounced and he knew it.

Frowning, the dragon scooted to the edge of the book he was sitting on and jumped onto the floor, causing the piles he’d been ruling over to tremble slightly as he hit the ground.

“I still say you shouldn’t let your new immortality go to your head and—” he cut off abruptly when he saw the look on her face. “Oh—sorry.”

Twilight sighed softly, and sent a conflicted glance over her shoulder. Her new wings lay innocently folded against her back as if nothing had happened. They still didn’t feel quite natural to her. They always seemed to be doing something unexpected or embarrassing as soon as she stopped paying attention to them. She hoped that at some point or another she’d get used to them, but for now it was like being gifted with an extra set of hooves—useful in some situations, but very awkward in others. A lot like her new title and the immortality that had come with them. Until recently, she had been Twilight Sparkle the unicorn—personal student of Princess Celestia, bearer of the Element of Magic, and acting librarian of Ponyville’s Golden Oaks Library. Now, thanks to her friends, she was Princess Twilight Sparkle the alicorn—graduate student of Princess Celestia, former bearer of the Element of Magic, and one of the royalty of Equestria who happened to be working at the Golden Oaks Library. Every time she caught sight of the new appendages, she couldn’t help remembering how much had changed in her life since the moment she’d earned them...she didn’t know quite how to feel about the whole thing.

AND, despite Rarity’s assurances that they absolutely did not, they made her look fat. Which really wasn’t fair, but oh well.

Twilight felt like sighing again, but not wanting to make Spike feel more guilty she forced herself to smile and make a joke instead.

“That’s okay—at least I don’t need to worry about dying of hunger while we’re trying to take care of these books, right?” She started to laugh.

Grrrrrrrrowwwwlllll

Two pairs of eyes darted almost simultaneously to the dragon’s round scaly belly.

Spike raised his eyes to meet the alicorn’s and shrugged. “You won’t, but I will. That’s what I was trying to tell you while you were in No-Mare’s Land—it’s past time we took a lunch break.”

The purple pony blinked and glanced around the library, looking for the clock. Under normal circumstances she’d know exactly where it was located, but even the most consistent object’s position was an uncertainty in this new landscape. She quickly realized it was a lost cause and returned her gaze to Spike.

“You sure it’s that time? How can you tell?”

As if on cue, Spike’s stomach let out another loud growl. He raised an eyebrow.

“Right. Okay then.”

Twilight turned around, keeping her wings as tightly pressed to her body as possible to avoid hitting anything else. She started trotting toward the kitchen. “I’ll whip up a little something and—”

Spike groaned. “Ah come on! Not daisy sandwiches again.”

His condescending tone made Twilight look over her shoulder with a frown. “Hey! I know they’re not your favorite, but they’re quick to throw together! You want to eat soon, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but…” Spike glanced around at the towering books and gave a slight shudder. “I’m also kind of feeling suffocated in here. I was hoping maybe...well, ya know…” He waved his claw toward the library door. “Could we go out for lunch today? And maybe dinner too, please? If we eat in here, I’m afraid I’ll be tasting dust bunnies for months.”

The mare turned to face him directly. “Spike, we’ve been through this—several times. Just because I’m technically a princess now doesn’t mean we’re suddenly loaded with bits. I don’t even get a royalty check for the merchandise they’re making. Our budget is exactly the same as it was, and that means we can’t afford to go out for every meal.”

Spike’s ears drooped. His legs buckled in and suddenly he was on his knees before her, clasping his hands in front of him in a pleading gesture. The little dragon stared up at the mare who was the closest thing he had to family, eyes growing twice their normal size.

Oh gosh...not that technique! He knows I can’t—

“Please?” he begged. “I’m just a small dragon who will only eat so many hayburgers before leaving this world. Don’t you think I should try to take advantage of it?”

She tried to stare him down—she really did. But she only lasted about forty seconds before she had to give in with a giggle.

“Oh, all right,” she agreed. “I guess it wouldn’t set us back too far.”

“Hurray!!” Spike leaped up, fist-pumping the air. “Hayburger!!”

Despite herself, Twilight found herself smiling at his childlike excitement as she hurried upstairs to grab some bits. There were times she was honestly surprised at how mature Spike could be—and other times, she was reminded he really was just a colt covered in scales.

“All righty, Mister Hayburger,” Twilight teased, dropping the bits into Spike’s eager claws. “Be back before too long, okay?”

Spike grinned and started making his way toward the door. He got about half-way before he realized he wasn’t being followed.

“Hey—aren’t you coming?”

“Nope!” Twilight said cheerfully. “Personally, I like daisy sandwiches. I’ll eat here and get some extra work done while you take your break.”

And enjoy some precious alone time. Now that would be nice. I haven’t had a lot of alone time since my coronation. It could be just what I need!

Spike looked like he disagreed. “Don’t you want some air? We’ve been in here for hours! Come on, it can’t be healthy to—”

“I’ll be just fine, really. Don’t let me ruin your break.”

Seeing that he still wasn’t convinced, the pony gave the little dragon an encouraging smile and let her tone become more wheedling. “Hey, I bet you could squeeze an ice-cream cone out of those bits—maybe two scopes?”

Spike suddenly brightened. “Maybe...three?”

Twilight immediately dropped the smile and rolled her eyes. “Don’t stretch your luck, Buster.”

He shrugged. “Worth a shot.”

“Two scoops is plenty—oh, and make sure you wash your claws before you come back. I don’t want the candy cane incident repeated.”

“Hey, that wasn’t me! That was Pinkie!”

“I don’t care—I don’t want it repeated,” Twilight shuddered at the memory. “It took ages to get all those pages unstuck...even with magic.”

It was Spike’s turn to roll his eyes, but to Twilight’s relief he didn’t try to push her out anymore.

“Okay, I’ll see you later then. Have fun eating your sandwich.”

Twilight grinned. “All righty. See ya.”

In scarcely the amount of time it took for her to finish saying good-bye, Spike was out the door and the Closed for Cleaning sign was swinging in his wake. Twi shook her head and returned to settle back into her cleaning nook. There was still plenty of work to be done and, despite Spike’s insistence about the time, she found she wasn’t hungry yet.

I can make up for the time I took getting stuck in that book while he’s gone. It’s perfect!

Twilight gave a contented sigh, letting her thoughts wander as she mindlessly picked up a book with her magic, ready to spend a blissful afternoon with herself.

The blissful part lasted about five minutes. That’s when she noticed something that caused her brow to pucker and her lips to turn down.

“Hello, what are you doing here, Fundamentals of Magical Physics?” she exclaimed, bringing the book up to her face for closer inspection.

There was no doubt about it—same green leather, same gold lettering, same title and author. The problem was, she was pretty sure she’d already cleaned this one. Despite the overwhelming masses of books around her, Twilight Sparkle had characteristically worked out an organized system that kept track of exactly which books had already been cleaned. Supposedly, if she and Spike kept to the system, they shouldn’t have to do the same books over again. And yet, here was one that she was positive had already received treatment. Had something gone wrong?

She examined the volume at all angles, confused frown growing deeper, before finally opening to the title page. As her eyes darted over the letters, her frown suddenly evaporated and her wings sprang open as she let out a squee.

“Tenth edition?! How long has there been a TENTH edition, oh my gosh—!!”

Thwomp!

Her exclamation was cut short when something large and heavy suddenly slammed into her horn. A sharp pain exploded through the front of her skull, causing her magical telekinesis to fail on impact. She gasped, shutting her eyes tightly.

Of course, it had to hit my horn.

It was instinct more than anything that told her exactly what had happened—her traitorous wings had hit the book stack again, and one of the books on the top must have fallen.

But why, sweet skies, why did it have to hit my horn? That hurts! Ouch. Ouch Ouch Ouch!

If she’d been thinking clearer, she would have realized exactly what would happen next. But, as it was, she was totally unprepared when, half a second later, she was suddenly assaulted in fifty different places by both flat and jabbing edges alike, which forced her to the floor under a crushing weight. Before she had time to process what had happened, her face was being hit again, and more weight pressed onto her back. Her eyes squeezed shut immediately, and she could hear crashing noises echoing throughout the library as she tried to curl herself into a defensive ball.

As suddenly as it had started, it was over. The noises stopped. The weight pinning her to the ground remained constant, and the library was once again quiet.

Twilight opened her eyes. All she could see were dark pages, but luckily the edge of her vision was catching enough light for her to tell they actually were pages.

What in Equestria…?

She tried to move. The weight above her shifted slightly, but her whole body ached in protest at the effort. Nothing compared to the pain in her horn—it throbbed like a small heartbeat of pain, demanding her immediate attention. Something else felt a bit off, but she ignored it all and focused instead on trying to get her over-stimulated mind to figure out what had just happened.

The book stack. It must have been upset completely and fallen over—on top of me, of course. The ultimate book-bashing. That would explain why I’m surrounded—no, completely buried in books at this moment.

She tried to carefully push the pages smashing into her face over a bit with the tip of her nose, but she winced back when the sound of tearing reached her.

I’m sorry. I have a spell to fix you, I promise. But my horn’s really hurting right now, and I can’t see you very well anyway, so it’ll have to be later, okay?

The alicorn decided to focus on wriggling her wings back toward her body. They’d been caught wide open, and it was very...uncomfortable. It was slow going, mostly because she was trying to be careful about it. She tried to flick her tail in aggravation, but it was pinned to the ground too—she bit her lip instead.

This is ridiculous! There’s no way there were this many books in one—

The truth hit hard. She froze, jaw dropping a good inch. Then, she started struggling again, this time more frantic. Desperation made her movements wild, and she struck out at random as she tried to dig her way upwards. It hurt to move. She flinched at every snapped book spine and torn page, but pressed forward, mind racing.

It’s impossible for just one pile to fall in here! All the books stacked around me must have fallen too, and that could have caused a chain reaction with EVERY STACK IN THE LIBRARY!!! Why in Equestria did I have them packed together so tightly?!

She was moving, slowly, but surely. She bit her lip again and thrust herself up.

All these books, torn pages, scuffed covers, and I didn’t even bother sweeping the floor before we started cleaning so they’re probably getting dirty too! What if some of the print gets smeared? How will anypony read that word again!!?? What if—oh, sorry about that, book I can’t read the title so I have to apologize generally like this, but it’s for the greater good!—what if my horn was cracked and I can’t use the spells to fix them?! I’ll never forgive myself!!

She needed to get to the top. The books they, they—

THEY NEED ME!!!

While this sort of panicked thinking made her absolutely devastated, it also fueled her enough to squirm, push, and finally pull her way to the top despite all her body’s protests. She broke the surface, so to speak, in the space of two short minutes. Crawling on top of the book mass that had formerly submerged her in it’s depths, the purple princess looked around with wide eyes, trying to see all the damage at once.

Despite her deepest fears, not every book in the library had come crashing to the floor—not even half the books. There were still a considerable amount scattered all over, with the former piles of cleaned books mixed in with the former piles of dirty ones and completely frustrating her carefully planned system, but all the same, Twilight couldn’t help letting out a sigh of relief.

Thank goodness! I thought...I thought…

Then, she realized exactly what she had been thinking and burst out laughing.

What was I thinking?! That’s so, so ridiculously like me to be so ridiculously overly-concerned with the books themselves and so ridiculously under-concerned with my own well being!

She took a deep breath, grinning. “Don’t let your immortality go to your head,” she scolded in her best impression of Spike’s voice. It was hard to do when she was trying not to giggle.

Laughing some more, Twi tried another imitation, this time of her friend Rainbow Dash.

“Twilight! You...super egghead!!”

By this point, she couldn’t do anymore voices—her laughter was so out of control it almost tipped her over. She swerved to avoid falling directly on any books, and that made her laugh even harder at herself.

When she could finally stop laughing long enough to get a few deep breaths, she sat up and started practically examining herself. Her horn was first. She gently traced over it with the tip of her hoof. It was still sore enough to cause sharp pin-pricks of pain across her skull whenever her hoof made contact, but there were no cracks as she had imagined in her frantic frenzy. Honestly, it took a lot more than a fallen book to crack a horn, but she hadn’t been thinking clearly. The throbbing wasn’t a good sign, however. She’d need to let it rest for maybe an hour or so, but it should be fine after that.

The rest of her body was aching from the impact it’d received, but there didn’t seem to be anything seriously wrong. She would probably be achy for awhile, but she could deal with that. There was still something that felt a little off, but Twi couldn’t figure out what it was. She shrugged; she would be fine.

The books might be another story...

Twilight glanced hopelessly at the sea of books she’d crawled out of. It would take ages to fix this mess up without magic—there was no way she was going to have it cleaned up before Spike got home.

Oh, he’s gonna be so mad...

The books would all have to be cleaned off again, of course, and probably restacked despite the hazards. She’d have to repair all those broken spines and torn pages—poor things—as soon as she could use her magic again. But what to do with them for now?

Well, sitting here won’t get anything done. Come on, Twilight! Time to get going!

Standing up, she moved toward the edge of the mess and proceeded to clean. Her face wrinkled into a frown of concentration as she worked, sorting through the catastrophe in typical Twilight fashion.

And then she heard the knock.

It wasn’t a loud or demanding knock; nor was it particularly distinguishing. Yet, there was something about it that made the princess actually look up from a particular book she was examining without it having to repeat itself.

Twilight set down a beat-up copy of Your Diet and the Universe quizzically.

That couldn’t be Spike already—besides, he wouldn’t bother knocking. Maybe Applejack? Mayor Mare? Ditzy Doo dropping off another overdue book she just found in her fridge?

Whoever it was, they certainly had come at an inconvenient time. The library was in no shape for guests.

The purple mare rose to her hooves, clicking her tongue with irritation as she started trotting toward the door.

So much for some relaxing time alone.

Pushing her personal feelings aside, and positioning her body to block the worst of the disaster area behind her from the knocker’s view, Twilight pulled the door open.

“Hello! I’m sorry, but the library’s clo—”

The rest of her sentence caught inside her throat as she jerked backward, eyes widening in shock. Her wings once again flew open of their own volition, causing a few feathers to come loose as her eyes locked on the pony on the other side of the doorway—or rather, the lack of one. When she thought “pony”, she usually envisioned more than the bare framework.

A dark cloak wrapped around the, literally, boney figure, covering all but it’s hooves, lower legs, and face in a blackness reminiscent of the grave. The visible bone was a brownish yellow hue that looked like pages in an ancient tome—aged, knowing, and powerful. Resting almost casually on its shoulder was a enormous scythe. While it was a cold light that caused the blade to gleam, and the air drifting toward her from the skeletal form sent shivers down her spine, the two orange lights floating in the center of the dark eye sockets seemed to burn into her very being.

The idea that this might be a prop was disproved immediately when the skeleton raised a hoof and cleared its throat.

“Twilight Sparkle?”

The mare went rigid, sitting abruptly. She tried to respond, but her throat was still clogged by the residue of her last sentence.

“I have come for your soul.”

Remember that article in the paper about the two librarians in the Manehattan library? Almost crushed flat! Almost crushed flat!

The memory of Spike’s worried voice bounced around Twilight’s head, hitting other thoughts and feelings aside like they were marbles. She was vaguely aware her breathing was becoming uneven, and her head light. She felt…

Faint? Am I becoming Rarity?

No—fainting was something the mares in romance novels did, and Twilight had never considered herself the type of pony to even open one of those books let alone make an appearance. She was a practical mare, the type who held together—the type who did not faint.

Still, the more she stared at the figure before her, the more it was starting to sound like a good idea. She was a princess now after all, and the princesses in the stories she’d read fainted all the time.

Maybe I should indulge myself, this once. Might as well make use of my benefits, right? I wonder what it’s like. Oh no, I should have studied Rarity more! Do I fall left or right!? I have no idea—maybe I’ll ask her. Huh, funny. I wonder if Princess Celestia has ever fainted. No, forget it Twilight. There’s no way an esteemed alicorn like her would ever…

Wait a second…

A different memory of a definitely sulky Spike suddenly presented itself. Don’t let your immortality go to your head—

The alicorn gave herself a hard shake, losing more feathers in the process. Once she was sure she’d gotten over any and all desire to faint, she looked up with a glare.

“No, thank you. Now take the mask off, Rainbow.”

“Rainbow…” The skeleton cocked its skull, and somehow managed to look a little confused despite having no facial features to assist it. “Rainbow...Dash?”

“Playing innocent?” Twi huffed, crossing her forelegs over her chest. She was feeling stupid, and feeling stupid made her temper flare. Not only had she managed to completely overlook what this whole thing obviously must be—another of Rainbow Dash’s dumb pranks—but she had let it upset her so much she’d actually thought she was going to faint for a minute there! “Just pull down the hood, or I’ll do it for you.”

The boney figure remained silent, its burning eyes never drifting from her face. She huffed again, ready to pull down the hood with magic whether it hurt or not, when something caught her attention.

The forelegs of this costume were very thin...a little too thin.

When somepony is pretending to be a skeleton, that pony doesn’t actually become thinner because they can’t get rid of fat, skin, or muscle, Twilight’s thoughts flashed. They just put on a costume. So...to get your foreleg to look that thin...you’d need to...to...use some kind of magic? Maybe cloth that makes all flesh invisible? I guess Rainbow could have gotten something like that somewhere...but if that’s the case, wouldn’t it make her a little more pegasus- and, well, mare-looking?

It was true. The more Twilight examined the figure before her, the more she could see that there was something definitely male about it—maybe something about the shape of the jaw—and the ancient bones were dense, instead of light and fragile like a pegasus’ should be.

Rainbow couldn’t pull that off—Pinkie might, but is there honestly anything Pinkie couldn’t do if she put her mind to it? That is, anything except laughing as soon as she realized her prank had worked really, really well...right, this isn’t Pinkie either. Who, then? No pony, that’s who. Then what? An illusion? A spell? A hallucination? Whoa, maybe that book hit me harder than I thought...do I have a concussion? What if I’m not really even awake? What if—

She was snapped out of her thoughts when the possibly coma-induced spector addressed her.

“Rainbow Dash carries scythes around often, then?” It spoke in a soft monotone, almost a whisper. “How unusual for this day and age. Perhaps we’d get along.”

“No...wait, what?” Twilight blinked rapidly in confusion.

“It’s an underrated hobby, really. Used to be all the rage, but updated farming techniques, you know?”

She couldn’t tell if it—he—was being sarcastic or completely serious. If this all came from her head, she’d really underestimated her creative capacity.

There is a way to check…

She grimaced at the thought, then sighed. Lifting her hoof reluctantly, she started to reach out toward the skeleton.

As proven in all studies with the sensory magics, even the most prominent delusions or hallucinations can’t be felt...

Before her hoof came even close to making contact, she paused. Slowly she raised her eyes to meet the skeleton’s.

“Err...sorry, but…” she found herself swallowing. “Could I make sure you’re real?”

Without a word, he let go of the scythe and extended a hoof out to her. Twi was a little surprised when despite losing one of its main supports, the scythe remained stock still with no sign of magical aura anywhere around it.

She turned her gaze back to the upheld hoof, and felt her fur start to stand up. She didn’t exactly know why, but the thought of touching it was making her stomach turn. This was probably all just some sort of illusion, and yet...

Bracing herself, she thrust her hoof forward—

And flinched back immediately when she felt it make contact.

Nope, definitely real...

“Uh…thanks for that,” Twilight acknowledged while she rubbed her hoof against her chest. It was so cold she could still feel tingles. She quickly moved on. “You’re not...a pony’s skeleton brought to life by some sort of necromancy, are you?”

“Of course not—how morbid,” the creature shuttered as it took hold of the scythe again.

“No necromancy?” Twilight said faintly. “You sure?”

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

“Well, yeah, but—”

Don’t freak out, you still have one more checkpoint…

“This isn’t Discord, is it?”

“No.” The tone was firm, and somehow unquestionable. “I believe he’s busy at the moment.”

“So…” Twilight’s mind rolled. She didn’t really want to say what she was thinking, but she knew she needed to. “You’re...Death?”

“Yes.”

“Not...anything else?”

“Death is many things, Twilight Sparkle. How do you mean?”

“I...I don’t know. Sorry,” Twi apologized, dropping both hooves back on the ground. “It’s just I...wasn’t expecting you today.”

Death nodded. “Apologies. I did not have time to send a notice.”

“A…? Right…”

A thousand thoughts rose up in Twilight Sparkle’s head. Of course, Twilight Sparkle being Twilight Sparkle, she was able to organize them into four categories without breaking a sweat.

First of all, this is really Death in front of me—a little conflicting, even if he can’t do anything to me. Come to think of it, he’s a lot smaller than I thought he’d be. Is this what he’s always like? Second, what in the world is holding all his bones together like that without chartallge and muscle? He seems more solid than I am! And that scythe staying so perfectly balanced without any sign of magic aura is surely a sign of magical intervention...is it the same kind that holds him together? Is it more subtle, like earth-pony magic, or can it be very apparent, like a unicorn’s? Has his magic already been discovered and studied, or is it something that remains a complete mystery? Have scholars been driven to insanity trying to figure it out? And if that’s the case, is the fact I’m itching to grab some paper right now a bad sign? Anyway, third, why is he here? He said he has come for my soul, but now that I’m an alicorn that can’t be possible. And yet, here he is, as I’ve unfortunately proven beyond a doubt. Maybe he got the wrong library? The wrong Twilight Sparkle? Or does he not know my recent alicornation has made me immortal? Wait, what!—everypony knows alicorns are immortal!!! Maybe he didn’t see the wings, somehow? They’re kind of hard to miss, especially since I gave him a pretty good view when I first...ugh, embarrassing, don’t think about that. Fourth, this means I’ll have to tell the Pony of Death himself that there’s been some sort of mistake—tell the professional that he’s muffed it up. He probably doesn’t get that one often. What if he feels like I’m attacking his authority? What will I do if he gets defensive? And why is this eerily similar to that day I was introduced to the royals at Canterlot as their new princess? Ha, as if interacting with the court wasn’t hard enough, now this. Focus, Twilight, focus, how do you address the problem to him in a tactful way?...

As the mare let her mind scramble about, she tried to her avert her gaze from the skeletal being from time to time so he wouldn’t feel like she was staring at him. He didn’t return the kindness—the burning eyes never drifted away from their target for even a second. It was impossible to tell what was going on in his mind. Neither one said a word for what felt like a long time.

Then Twilight’s stomach suddenly let out a sound that resembled a dying goose.

The lavender mare started and blushed. Maybe I should have eaten after all...

“Well,” she laughed a bit, but it sounded a little forced—making light of embarrassing situations had never been her forte. “Sounds like it’s time to eat, huh? Would you like to join me?”

It was at that moment when Twilight realized a truth, a truth she had really always known deep in her heart—it’s always a bad idea to cover up your embarrassment by rambling, because you never know what the hay will come out of your mouth and whether or not it will seal your doom.

WHAT IN EQUESTRIA!!!!???? Who did I think I was talking to, Fluttershy??!! Sweet skies, I don’t even know if he can eat! Twilight, you ninny, bad, bad, stop it, ignore that please Death, oh heavens what is he doing—?!

The lights in the skull’s eye-sockets disappeared, than reappeared—Death had just blinked at her.

“Lunch would be nice, actually.”

Twi suddenly found her throat was very, very dry. She swallowed as quietly as she could.

Why me? Why me? AJ, Rarity, Pinkie, Rainbow, Fluttershy, Spike—WHERE THE HAY ARE YOU!!!!!!???

The princess immediately felt guilty. She knew with all her heart that if her friends were saavy to her situation and the effect it was having on her, they’d be right there to support her in any way they could. But they didn’t, and they couldn’t, so she was on her own for this one. Knowing she was alone made it all so much worse.

Or, mostly alone...

Biting back a resigned sigh, Twilight opened the door wider and beckoned Death to come in. She even managed a small smile.

“Come in—Welcome to Golden Oaks!”

Death took a moment to wipe his hooves on the Welcome mat before stepping in, keeping his giant scythe in one hoof. He glanced at the upheaval around them with an almost curious expression.

“S-sorry about the mess,” Twilight shivered, feeling the temperature rise and drop alarmingly as he walked past her. Her wings started to floof out a bit. “Me and my assistant were in the middle of spring cleaning.”

“It is fine,” the skeleton murmured. “I have seen worse, believe me. I’m quite impressed you managed to keep it so organized. Your system seems to be working well.”

“Oh—” Twilight blinked at the unexpected compliment, wondering how he’d figured out she had a system so quickly. “Th-thank you.”

“You are welcome.”

Twilight moved to shut the door, almost forgetting not to use her magic until her horn throbbed. She shut it by hoof and turned back around to see Death had picked up one of the books and was examining it. The mare resisted the urge to grab it away from him, but still watched carefully until he put it back down. A little frost had appeared where his hoof had touched the cover, but otherwise all seemed undamaged.

She let out a soft sigh of relief, only to jump a second later when the Pony of Death swiveled toward her.

“They mentioned you were quite good at that sort of thing,” Death explained. Twi somehow realized he was continuing their earlier conversation. “Perhaps you could sort out that mess of a royal crypt in Saddle Arabia. At least it would be a convenance for me. Why the royal family always insist on dying in there as well as being buried has always been a mystery, but it might be more pleasant if the place was...thoroughly cleaned.”

The living pony shivered slightly. She was suddenly very, very glad Death was considerate enough to whip his hooves before entering the library.

At least he seems more at ease in here...

“Uh...thanks,” she gulped. “Maybe I’ll do that, someday. Anyway, the kitchen’s in the back, so if you’ll just follow me we can get our lunch.”

Death nodded. “As you wish.”

“Try to keep to the path,” The princess instructed, gesturing to the preciously preserved floorboard. “And just a warning, it’s little tight in there.”

“Do not worry on my account. It couldn’t be worse than a coffin, no?”

The alicorn nodded—slowly—and started trotting in the direction of the kitchen. Her fur stood up on end a bit when she heard the sound of quiet hoofbeats following her, but she kept going. It wasn’t too bad if she pretended the creature following her wasn’t holding a particularly large scythe and was known for...well…

Why me?

She tried to convince herself this was a good thing. She tried to be thankful she had some extra time to figure out how to tell Death about the mistake.

She tried not to scream.

Deep breaths, deep breaths—we’re almost there.

The kitchen was a rather tight affair if Applejack wanted to come and cook a meal for her extended family, but it could hardly be compared to a coffin. It was warm, despite the capricious functioning of the stove, and had been known to get rather lively on evenings when she and Spike were celebrating the completion of her latest project. But now, the entire room was quiet.

Twilight hurried forward and pulled out a seat for her guest. Her heart sank a little when she realized she’d just grabbed the chair Spike usually used.

Spike, forgive me for using your chair to...just forgive me if you ever find out.

“Won’t you sit down?” she questioned aloud.

The skeletal figure made a move as if to take the offered chair, then paused. Glancing up at the scythe, he cocked his skull and turned back toward his hostess.

“Excuse me, but is there a particular place you would like me to put this while we eat? I’m afraid it might be an inconvenience.”

“Oh,” the mare said lamely, giving the tool a quick look over. “Uh, by the wall over there is fine, I guess.”

Death turned to see where she was gesturing and nodded. He shrugged the scythe off his shoulder and set it down.

The tool didn’t lean against the wall when released as Twilight had naturally supposed it would; it didn’t even sway. The pole stood straight up on itself, apparently as unaffected by the laws of physics as Pinkie Pie, and looked for all the world like it was perfectly content to remain there until the end of time. Once again, there was no magical aura or even a notch in the wooden floor to help hold it up.

How…?

The former magic student managed to turn away, despite her brain screaming at her to examine this mystery a little longer. She tried to focus on trotting over to the fridge instead.

“I...hope daisy sandwiches are okay,” she called over her shoulder.

“That will be fine,” Death assured her, and the princess heard a soft scraping noise as he sat down. “Please avoid any spinach or salt on mine, assuming you use those sorts of things.”

Twilight nodded as she pulled out all she’d need for their meal—daisies, bread, and some jam. She honestly didn’t know any pony who put spinach or salt on a daisy sandwich, but since she’d read the bone section in Healthy Eating Habits for Ponies she understood why her guest felt the need to make sure.

“Bone loss, huh?” she observed out loud.

“I suppose.”

“I see. Oh, I do have some fresh milk. Would you prefer that to drink?”

“If it would not be terribly inconvenient for you.”

“Oh no, it won’t be. Here, I’ll get that now…” The princess pulled out a glass from one of the cupboards and poured the white liquid. “Do you want any kale or cheese?”

“I believe I’ll pass. I have been trying to slim down some.”

Twilight paused, glancing over at where her guest sat. Once again, she really couldn’t tell if he was messing with her or being completely serious.

“Huh...okay then.”

Balancing ingredients, dishes, and the milk as she trotted back over to the table wasn’t easy. Twi came very close to spilling Death’s requested beverage once or twice. But luckily, this was one of those times her wings proved their usefulness—the feathered limbs helped carry things and keep her balanced until she was able to set everything down and hoof Death his milk.

“Thank you,” he said, taking the glass. It started to fog up.

“Sure, no problem,” the mare breezed, picking up the bread.

Let’s see—just make sure the slices are all even, there we go—jam now. Oh shoot, I have to open it. And it’s one of those lids that screw off. Good thing Applejack isn’t here. She’d laugh. Sorry I’m not used to doing it this way, AJ—wait, is he watching me?

Death was watching her. She supposed she couldn’t blame him—if she saw a mare sitting on the floor with one foreleg holding a jam jar tightly to her chest and the other pointed up at an awkward angle while trying to get a grip on it’s lid with wings flown out on either side of her, she’d probably stare a little too.

Blame, no she couldn’t—blush, yes, she very much could.

“You aren’t using your magic,” Death observed.

“Oh, yeah,” the alicorn dropped her gaze back to the jar and continued her quest of trying to unscrew the lid. “My horn got a little beat up before you came, so I’m resting it a bit. It’s usually not a good idea to do magic when your horn’s hurting, you know—”

She looked up, and realized Death didn’t have a horn.

“Or...maybe you don’t…” she sighed.

“I see,” Death nodded. “That explains the bruise on your forehead.”

Twi blinked. There’s a bruise?

The spector held out a hoof. Twilight understood his silent offer and gave the jar up with a defeated sigh. It took less than a second for him to hoof it back to her, the jar now successfully decapitated—

Bad personification, Twilight. Very bad personification.

The jam was a lot colder than usual but at least it was obtainable, and the lavender pony had no more trouble while finishing the sandwiches. She put them on two plates she’d brought over and passed one to Death. Since the ingredients would just take up space if she left them on the table, the mare decided to put them away before she started eating. The journey was a little easier this time since she didn’t have quite as much to carry.

She was just coming back when she saw Death take his first bite. Despite the fact he had no cheeks, the food somehow stayed in the area of his teeth and jaws without flying all over the place as he chewed. It was kind of like watching a pony eat through an X-ray.

Twilight watched, fixed in fascination. He’s chewing, he’s chewing...oh wait, he’s going to swallow...

The bony pony gulped. The mashed pieces started traveling down his backbone, where a normal pony’s throat would be. Twi lost sight of them when they passed by where his cloak was fastened, so she trained her eyes on where she thought they’d appear next. Only, they didn’t. It was as if the sandwich bite had vanished completely from existence.

How…?

The skeletal being leaned forward to take another bite.

Twilight Sparkle’s mouth was watering—she needed a quill and some paper. She needed a quill and some paper, and she needed it now!

QUILL-PAPER-QUILL-PAPER—don’t I have some in here? Oh wait, I forgot, Spike confiscated my kitchen supply so I’d eat. I’ll have to find the ones in the main room...wait again, gosh dang it, I’ll never find them in there now! The bedroom supply. I’ll just run up there and—

She was snapped out of her obsessive state when she noticed Death staring at her again. Smiling apologetically, she went to take her seat. This might, she realized, be a good time to get both of their minds on something else.

“So, how has your day been, Death?”

He paused to wipe a leaf off his skull. “Average.”

Twilight nodded, and wondered what exactly an ‘average’ day for Death must be like. She picked up her sandwich and took a bite. “Planning...planning on doing anything fun this weekend?”

“Not particularly. The job doesn’t exactly come with set time off. Or any time off, really.”

“Oh,” Twilight swallowed. “I guess it wouldn’t...that’s rough.”

Death sighed. It sounded like the the wind moaning through a forgotten pass. “Sometimes.”

The two continued to chat as they ate. Twilight did most of the talking, asking him about where he’d last been, what the weather had been like, etc. She never dared ask about his job in much detail. Death answered all her questions briefly. It was only every once in a while that he would ask her a question, but when he did he seemed legitimately interested in knowing the answer. Twilight could honestly almost say she found him pleasant company, except for...well…

It was when they both had finished their food when things started getting awkward again. They both seemed to realize it was time to address a certain subject, and neither one seemed to eager speak first. At least, Twilight knew that’s how she felt. Death’s thoughts were a mystery. For a while neither one said a word, the living pony nervously folding and unfolding her wings, the not-really-living pony staying completely still.

She broke first.

“Okay, Death…” Twilight sighed, moving a hoof up to rub her forehead. “I’m...a little confused right now.”

“It happens to the best of us.”

“Yes, well…” She took a deep breath. “To be quite honest, you’re what’s confusing me.”

“Ah,” Death nodded. He didn’t seem surprised.

“I told you I wasn’t expecting you today,” the mare continued, fidgeting slightly. “And that was true. It’s just, what I didn’t tell you was I wasn’t expecting to see you at all—ever.”

Her wings opened, this time intentionally. Please notice...

“I mean, just a little while ago, I knew I’d see you at one point and you’d...you know…”

“I do.”

“But, things being as they are, I think—and don’t take this the wrong way—that you may have made a mistake. In coming for my soul, that is.”

There.

It’d been said, at least. Twilight bit her lip, her eyes on the Pony of Death as she waited for his response.

He didn’t seem mad. In fact, he’d started swirling the milk in his glass around in an off-hand manner, eyes completely focused on his idle pursuit. For a moment Twi wondered if he’d even heard the last part.

She jumped when he abruptly stopped and looked up at her.

“Oh. Is that all?”

Twi nodded, slowly letting out a sigh of relief.

Perhaps this will all go smoothly after all. He’ll apologize and leave, and I’ll go back to sorting through the books—easy.

Except, he was cocking his skull at her again, the way he always seemed to do before asking a question.

“I respect your opinion, Miss Sparkle, and I hope what I am about to say will not offend. However, I have been doing this sort of thing for a long time—longer than you have lived, longer than your great-grandmother lived, longer than Celestia has been in charge of raising the sun each day. In all that time I have never made a mistake before. What, pray, makes you think I have made one now?”

Twilight swallowed, suddenly feeling very, very nervous. His tone was the same soft monotone it had always been, his eyes scorching into her soul like they always did—she had no way of telling if he was getting defensive, or if he was just curious.

Erring on the side of caution, she decided he was furious.

This started going downhill fast...

The mare floofed her wings a little more. “Look, I don’t understand a lot about your job. I admit that—I accept that. But there’s one thing I do know, and that’s that you don’t have any power over me now.”

She stopped, surprised. Her tone had been firm, but diplomatic—undaunted, but understanding. In her own mind, it was probably the most like her former mentor she’d ever sounded.

Whoa…

She sat up a bit taller, feeling a good deal more confident. Making sure she was looking Death straight in the eye, the purple pony explained herself.

“You see Death, just recently Princess Celestia sent me an unfinished spell of Starswirl the Bearded and asked me to complete it. I...well, to be brief, I accidentally performed said unfinished spell, completely turned my friends’ lives inside out, sang a few songs, had a moment of inspiration, fixed my friends, and then figured out how to conclude the spell. As it turns out, that whole thing was really the final test that the Princess wanted me to take before exalting me, and I passed. So, I became the fourth princess in Equestrian history, and also an alicorn—an immortal being. Thus, you can’t take my soul.”

Twilight, satisfied she had made her point, sat back and waited for her guest to respond. Death didn’t move a muscle—bone. Cautiously, the alicorn folded her wings back down. His silence was unnerving.

It’ll be okay, no sweat. I have at least fifty more facts, cross-references, and resources ready for when he tries to unhinge my argument. Not to mention a whole town of witnesses, the word of three princesses, and, if worse comes to worse, the completed spell itself. He’ll see the truth than, I’m sure of it.

She braced herself, ready for anything.

Except, perhaps, no challenge at all.

“Congratulations.”

The alicorn started. “What?”

Death blinked. “I said congratulations. The wings suit you.”

“Oh,” Twilight let out a slow breath, relaxing. “Thank you. Now that we’ve cleared things up, was there anything—”

Death raised a hoof. Twilight stopped speaking immediately. She couldn’t tell if it was by her own free will, or if some sort of power had intervened.

“Congratulations, Miss Sparkle,” he began. “That, as I understand, is a great achievement for your kind in a lifetime. I applaud a fulfilling life.”

The Pony of Death met her gaze, staring straight into her grape-colored irises. His eyes seemed to trap her in their flaming depths, and she was unable to look away even as they burned away at her very being.

“But,” his pianissimo voice never crescendoed, and yet the whole room seemed to fill with its authority. “But, that has not changed a thing. Princess Twilight Sparkle, I HAVE COME FOR YOUR SOUL.”

A strange sensation was beginning to spread over the lavender princess. Her soul was still burning, burning like somepony had lit it on fire, and yet her body was being covered in a layer of ice. First her hooves, than her legs…

So, is this what dying is like? Weird.

Wait till I tell the girls and Spike about this...hey girls, want to know what dying feels like? Remember that time Pinkie gave us jalapeno muffins she’d been keeping in the freezer? Well it’s like that, except about a billion times more bearable.

Twilight forced herself to blink. It wasn’t easy—in fact, she couldn’t remember anything being so hard. But once she finally managed to do it once, the second and third times were much easier. She had to blink about fifty times before she could finally force her head away, and hundred more times after that before she could give herself a good shake.

“What was that for?” she snapped, irritated.

“What was what for?” Death questioned.

“That—the freezing, burning thing,” Twilight shook her head again, trying to get rid of some spots that had started floating through her vision.

“I’m still not certain what you mean, but from my perspective, it looked like you were about to faint for a minute there.”

Twilight blinked. “Really? Because it didn’t feel like I had any control over it at all.”

“That is usually how it works.”

That isn’t how it seems to work with Rarity...

She turned back to the skeleton. “Did you happen to notice if I was leaning more to the left or the right?”

Death looked thoughtful for a moment. “No, I’m afraid I didn’t.”

Twi sighed. “Drat.”

Recalling herself, the alicorn quickly sat up and cleared her throat. “Anyway—what do you mean?”

“About the fainting, or before that?”

“About how me becoming an alicorn hasn’t changed anything,” Twilight stressed, pulling her wings in; they’d come open again at some point. “Not that I’m doubting your word, you’re the professional after all…”

She pinned her hooves on either side of the table and stood up, voice rising. “But of course it’s changed things! Everypony knows alicorn’s are immortal—Princess Celestia and Princess Luna have lived at least a thousand years, without any signs of advanced aging! There’s no way that could happen if they weren’t immortal, right?”

“Did Celestia tell you that?”

Twilight paused. “Well...no, we haven’t actually talked about it. But that’s—that’s just because we didn’t need to! It’s too obvious. It’s an unwritten law of the universe. Becoming an alicorn means that that law now applies to me—it makes sense! No pony really knows why, but there are theories dating thousands of years that try to explain—”

“And yet,” Death interrupted. “I think you’ll find none of them can explain why your heart hasn’t been beating this entire time.”

Twilight puffed her chest out. “Hey! Who read the theories, you or me? Of course they explain—”

The realization of what he’d said hit like a ton of bricks, forcing her to sit down. Hesitantly, she waited to feel that constant, subtle drum that had accompanied her throughout her whole life.

She waited. And waited some more. Her hooves slowly went to her chest.

No…it’s not...it’s not…

But it was. Twilight Sparkle was now entirely void of that one element that all creatures possessed—a heartbeat.

No...

Shock was starting to spread through her entire body like a spiderweb. She slowly brought her gaze up to meet Death.

“Did you do this?” she whispered.

Death shook his head. “It had stopped before I got here, Miss Sparkle.”

Her gaze went to the floor. She tried to remember when she’d last felt it.

All those books...falling...I dug my way out...my horn was hurting, all of me was hurting...and something else was wrong...

“You’re definitely leaning to the left this time.”

Twilight jerked back up straight, shaking herself. Death watched her a moment, and nodded when she didn’t start tilting back down.

“You’re a strong little pony. I’ve seen that realization take down full-grown centaurs.”

Twilight felt her whole body spasm at different rates. Her teeth were chattering. “N-no way, this, this is impossible, you’re impossible—”

Death looked unamused. “Now you’re just in denial.”

Twilight shook her head. “No, I’m n-n-not…”

“It’s all right—that’s a perfectly natural response,” Death leaned his skull into his hooves, letting out his windy sigh. “I’m used to it.”

“No!” Twilight felt unnecessary guilt curling in her gut. “I—”

I can’t believe this. I can’t believe this is happening.

The mare brought both her hooves and her wings up to cover her head. “It’s just, I’m supposed to be immortal! If my heart has stopped, that’s a clear indication that I’m not, so I must have done something wrong and I have no idea what it is! No pony said I was supposed to do something else! I just assumed the immortality came with the wings! And anyway, if my heart hasn’t been beating ever since you came here, how have I been moving and breathing like nothing’s wrong?! Why haven’t I fallen over, or something?! How in the world did I not notice my heart wasn’t working?! Why did you let me invite you to lunch and just sat there letting me flap my lip when I was supposed to be dead as soon as you arrived?! This should be a dream—a cruel, twisted dream! But it’s not, because I felt your hoof earlier and I ate my sandwich!! You don’t feel or eat in a dream! But what else could it be?! This doesn’t make sense!”

Twilight finally had to stop to breath—or gasp, rather.

So apparently I still need oxygen?! How??!! None of this makes any sense!!!

The gasping pony weakly lowered herself to the table. Her head started to ache, and that just increased the dull pain in her horn. All was quiet—all she could hear was her own ragged breathing.

Then Death sighed again and a slight rustling noise started. Curious, the purple pony looked up and saw her guest was reaching into his cloak, apparently looking for something. After a minute he pulled out a small black book bound with something that looked suspiciously like an elastic band. With a flick of his hoof the band snapped off and he began flipping through the pages. The flaming eyes darted from one page to the next so fast it seemed impossible that he was actually reading anything, but apparently he was because after a few minutes he suddenly stopped. Turning the book around, he slid it across the table toward his hostess.

“Here—I understand you are a ‘written word is law’ sort of creature.”

With dread, Twilight slowly pulled herself up and glanced at the book in front of her. To her surprise, there was nothing but a blank page at first. Then, black ink started seeping through the white surface, like molasses in sugar, creating what Twilight immediately recognized as some sort of form.

Carefully, she pulled the book closer—it was as cold as a block of ice. She leaned forward and began to read:

Name: Twilight Sparkle
Race: Unicorn Alicorn
Age: 22
Date of Death: Spring 8
Time of Death: 2:05 P.M.
Cause of Death: Heart attack

“Wait—” Twilight’s head snapped up. “Heart attack?!”

“Yes,” Death nodded. “It is the sudden occurrence of coronary thrombosis. It can be fatal—”

“I know what a heart attack is!” Twilight cried, throwing her hooves up in frustration. “What about the books!?”

Death blinked. “I suppose some horror novels have been known to cause heart attacks, but—”

“No, it’s just—I thought—the books—arggh!!!!”

She threw her head back on the table. It made a rather satisfying thonk sound.

“.......Didn’t that hurt?”

Twilight jerked her head up, eyes flashing.

“THE CLOSEST THING I’VE HAD TO A HEART ATTACK ALL DAY WAS WHEN I OPENED THE DOOR AND YOU WERE STANDING THERE!!!”

She finished her rant, panting. There was no way to see herself, but she was pretty sure anypony looking at her eyes right now would be thinking ‘crazed’.

Death, however, looked nonplused. He took a sip of his milk, which hovered in his mouth until he swallowed. It fell, then disappeared.

“Miss Sparkle,” he set the glass back down. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I’ve really spent too much time here already. Can we get this started now?”

Twilight wilted. It was official, no more ifs ands or buts—Death was here for her soul. And when Death said he’d come for your soul, he didn’t mean he’d be taking it to the dry cleaner and back. No—he meant he’d come to move it on...forever.

Oh Princess Celestia, what’s wrong with me? Why am I the only alicorn who somehow didn’t gain immortality? Why is Death here for me? What did I do wrong?

Twilight blinked, and suddenly found her eyes were welling with tears. She tried to whip them with the back of her hoof, but they just came faster.

“It’s not as bad as all that,” Death comforted. “I’ve heard it’s quite nice where you’re going. There’ll be a lot of ponies who’ll be happy to see you, and the food is divine. You should consider yourself lucky your body’s not immortal...”

It’s not like I really wanted to be immortal...the truth is, I was really scared when I first first realized that that’s what must have happened to me. I’ve never had the desire to live forever. But Princess, I never thought I’d die so soon. I wanted to help Equestria, just like you do. Instead, I’m going to die. I haven’t had this role for very long, and it looks like I already ruined everything.

That was what hurt the most—the thought that she’d somehow failed. Twilight let out a small whimper, and buried her face in her hooves.

I failed. I don’t know how, or why, or if there was something I could have done before I was at this point to stop it, but it’s true. I failed.

“They also say time doesn’t matter there,” Death was still talking. “So once I’ve collected your friends, you’ll be able to just hang out without worrying about that sort of thing. That would be enjoyable for you, no? You seem fond of them.”

My friends…

Pinkie, Rarity, Rainbow, Fluttershy, Applejack—what will they do when they find out I’m dead? They’ll get over it, I guess, but it’s going to be really hard at first—I know that’s how it’d be for me if one of them suddenly died. Pinkie, she’ll be unconsolable for a while...maybe a very long while. Rainbow will be upset, so upset she might cause some sort of freak rainstorm all by herself—I can see that happening. Rarity will be devastated, and her fashion line will undergo drastic changes from her mood swings—thus, she’ll suffer twice. Applejack will try to be the strong one, to help everypony through it, but inside she’ll be breaking too. Fluttershy—oh, poor Fluttershy. She’ll just cry, because she won’t know what else to do...

And Spike…

Spike...

He thinks he’s just leaving me for a lunch break. He thinks his “see you later” is just that. What will he do when he comes back and finds out I’m gone? He’ll look around a bit, maybe shrug and figure I went to get some fresh air after all. Then, eventually, he’ll walk into the kitchen...he’ll know...and he’ll be all by himself...

Something inside her snapped.

“NO.”

Her voice was so altered it even surprised her. She lifted her head, teeth gritted, eyes full of fiery determination.

Death didn’t notice. He was reaching inside his clock again. “No, you’re not fond of them? My mistake.”

“NO, Death,” the princess commanded, sitting up straighter than ever.

“No to that first no, or ‘no’ yes?”

“DEATH!!!”

“Yes?”

“Death, listen to me—I’m not dying today!”

Death didn’t answer. His eyes suddenly brightened, and a moment later he pulled out a clipboard and a quill.

“Here,” he said, passing the clipboard across the table. “This is the waiver. Now, if you’ll just sign here—”

Twilight shoved it away. “I’m not signing that!”

He blinked. “I would. If you don’t, I can’t guide you on and your spirit will either get lost or remain here. Neither one is a good option—that is to say, while I’m sure your friends love you immensely I doubt they’ll appreciate your ghost haunting this library for all eternity.”

He picked up the rejected item and hoofed it over to her again. “Let’s do it now, shall we? I’d prefer to get it out of the way before you separate and can’t hold the pen as well. You can use my favorite quill, if you like—the ink is cherry scented.”

Twilight was one skip away from spontaneous combustion. Her frustration was so very real it was turning her face an impressive shade of mauve. She bit her lip to keep from screaming and forced herself to breath deeply.

Calm down, calm down, you’re not getting anywhere like this…

She closed her eyes, focusing only on her inhalation for a minute. Once she felt more composed, she opened her eyes and took the waiver from Death—but she made no move to sign it.

“Death, listen,” she entreated in a quieter tone. “I know you’re just trying to do your job, but...is there some way we could work around this?”

“You mean, so you live?” Death asked bluntly.

“Yes, preferably.”

The skeleton shook his head. “No.”

Twi bit her lip. “...Please?”

Death stared at her. “Your time has come, Miss Sparkle—there’s no compromising that. You can come with me or remain here, but either way I have to separate you. It will be a more pleasant experience if you let me assist you in doing so naturally, but if you don’t, I have...other means.”

A trickle of unease ran down the mare’s back as she turned to glance uncertainly at the scythe next to the wall. It was still standing perfectly straight, but something seemed a little different about it now. It seemed... alert, like a cobra preparing to strike.

No, that couldn’t be...I’m imagining things, right?

She jumped as the blade suddenly flashed. It’s gleam was deadly.

Oh…

With a gulp, the princess turned back to Death. “You’ll kill me?”

The boney being shrugged.“You’re already dead, technically. I will take initiative to separate your body from your spirit. My scythe was specially made to make a clean cut between the two—efficient, if painful. But as I said before, that’s only one way of completing the process. You can separate yourself, with no pain and only a little help on my part, if you’re willing. Believe me, I prefer it that way myself—I do not seek to put you in any sort of pain. But, if you insist on being stubborn, I will have no choice but to cut you loose.”

Death paused. “That, and I forgot my plunger, so it has to be the scythe.”

“Plunger?” Twilight repeated, blinking.

“Yes, plunger—that would’ve been the less painful way to separate you by force, but I left it at home today. Apologies.”

“Errr...that’s okay, I guess.”

But it wasn’t really. She was determined not to give herself up so easily and knowing that there was a less painful option if things went sour would have been comforting. And things going sour was more likely than not. Twilight could clearly see Death wasn’t about to be talked out of taking her soul and that meant the only other way was to fight him for it, something she really, really didn’t want to do. While it was very true she’d faced monsters, fallen royalty, and even the spirit of chaos himself, it was also very true that through all those times her friends had been right there beside her. It was the magic of friendship that had won those battles, not the magic of Twilight Sparkle. If she chose to fight Death, she’d be up against the being who’d erased dynasties, the one who held the tyrant and the mail pony as equals, the call most every pony feared—no doubt about it, the most powerful creature she’d ever been in the presence of—and she would be on her own. If push came to shove there was no way she could possibly fight him off, even if her magic was accessible.

He’s not going to back down—I guess I can’t blame him too much, he’s just doing his job. But I’m not going to give up either! I don’t want to never die, but I can’t die now! I need to get my soul out of his reach; the real question is how? Maybe if I offer to clean the Saddle Arabian royal crypt in exchange? No, he has too much integrity to accept a bribe. I guess I could try talking to him about the magic of friendship—

“Miss Sparkle,” Death broke into her thoughts, his soft tone spending a shiver down her back. “I don’t mean to rush you, but it’s getting late. If you’re going to sign that waiver—”

“Just a second,” Twi pleaded, closing her eyes. “Just one more—”

She turned up the velocity of her thought process, sorting through all the possibilities like three-by-five cards. She hadn’t been Princess Celestia’s student for nothing, after all, and she’d been in enough life or death situations to learn a thing or two about quick thinking in high pressure circumstances.

Trickery—no. Some sort of diversion—no. Monkeys—monkeys? Actually fainting—absolutely not. Come on, come on, there’s got to be something…girls, I wish you were here...Princess, I wish...

“—second.”

Then, unbidden, into her mind popped three names. Unfortunately, they met absolutely nothing to her at first.

Leaf? Felicity? Dogear? WHO THE HOOF—

Then, like a flash, something came back to her.

Wait, my second year at the Princess’ school for gifted unicorns—we were supposed to write essays on assigned folklore. I was hoping to do mine on Starswirl or Clover the Clever, real ponies with lots of legends around them, but Celestia gave me three stories I’d never even heard about before: The Legend of Leaf the Lucky, The Tale of Fearless Felicity, and Dogear, A Musical. Why are these coming back to me now? All I can remember is I hated all of them, but I don’t even remember what they were about…

Death coughed. Twilight shot straight up, fur bristling.

“Sorry,” The skeleton wiped the side of his mouth. “Dust.”

The mare glared. It was very possible he’d done that on purpose as a reminder. She’d nearly jumped out of her skin!

Then again, maybe that’s what he had in mind...gosh, what am I doing? I’m supposed to be trying to figure out how to defeat the Pony of Death here...

It hit her like a lightning bolt.

The Pony of Death, that’s it!! That’s what the three stories had in common! Leaf was a gambler, and an exceptionally good one. His ‘luck’ often got him into trouble, and one day he was mugged. The Pony of Death had come for him, but Leaf managed to convince him to play a game of poker and won back his soul. Felicity was a warrior, the type who swore and beat things when she was upset. One day, a griffon took her down in battle and the Pony of Death came for her too, but she managed to beat him at a card game and lived to fight another day. Dogear—sweet skies, that one was the worst! He was a lazy, good-for-nothing colt who could talk his way out of any work and went fishing when he should have been in school! Plus, the author kept throwing in enough bad puns in the musical numbers to sink Dogear’s fishing boat, even if he hadn’t ended up tripping out. But the point is, the Pony of Death came for him too! And, he also beat him at cards! Oh my gosh, I can’t believe it—Dogear the Dope is actually teaching me something!

Little Twilight had just rolled her eyes at all these undoubtedly terrible ponies, quickly finished the essay, and forgotten all about it. Now, grown-up Princess Twilight was taking quite a different viewpoint.

Leaf, Felicity, and Dogear had all defied Death himself because they wanted to live.

And they all won using the same method. A card game.

“...Since we’re just sitting here, would you mind getting me some more milk? I seem to be running low.”

Twilight debated—it was a long shot, putting her life in the hooves of a bunch of foal-stories. But then, Princess Celestia had personally assigned those stories to her, knowing she would read and analyze them.

Maybe they were just foal-stories, but then again, everypony thought Nightmare Moon was just a foal-story before she came back. Maybe Celestia gave me that assignment not because she thought I’d enjoy reading about the characters, but because she realized something like this might happen and she figured I might need a way out! Maybe she led me to those stories just like she led me to make friends the day she sent me to Ponyville! She’s always been teaching me in ways I didn’t understand at first. It’s worth a shot, right?

Twilight took a deep breath, and threw her whole life on the line.

“Hey, Death, how about a game?”

Death cocked his head at her, lowering his glass. He looked...surprised. “Game?”

Twilight let out the breath. If her heart had been working, it would’ve been thumping rapidly. “Yeah, sure, why not? We both want two completely different things right now—life and death. You, yourself, just pointed out it’s kind of hard to compromise, right? But, if we play against each other, the winner can take all, fair and square. If you win, I’ll…”

Twilight trailed off, biting her lip. Death watched her, as if urging her to continue.

“...If you win,” she continued quietly. “You won’t need to use the scythe—I’ll sign this waiver and go with you. But, if I win, you don’t separate me at all and I can keep on living.”

The mare leaned forward, hoping against hope, and held her hoof out across the table.

“What do you think, deal?”

Death stared at her hoof for a long moment. His gaze dropped and he began running his hoof up and down the edge of the table.

Please work. For Equestira’s sake, please work!

The hoof stopped moving. “What sort of game?”

Twilight Sparkle could have brust. He’s considering it…!

As for the game, that was easy—there was only one card game she’d ever felt confident about.

“Ever played solitaire?”

Death blinked. “I was under the impression that was a single player game.”

“Well, yes,” Twilight admitted, waving her hoof in the vagest gesture she could manage. “Usually. But there are ways to play with two ponies. Since you’re short on time, we’ll play the quick version—we’ll work on two separate games, and the first one to finish theirs wins.”

For not having eyebrows to raise, Death did a pretty good job of portraying the essence of 'raising an eyebrow' in her direction.

“I don’t mean to sound accusing, but it does sound like you made that up on the spot…”

Twilight pretended to be overcome by a sudden coughing fit. When she dared to glance up, she saw Death was leaning back in his chair, boney forelegs crossed in front of his chest. His skull was down and the glowing specks had completely disappeared, like he was closing his eyes.

“Cards…” he said slowly.

The flames reappeared and he lifted his skull. “Just to be clear, this is a terrible idea.”

Twilight gulped and nodded. “Yeah, I know.” She reached her hoof back across the table toward her fate.

After gazing at it for a minute, the Pony of Death reached out his own hoof and took it.

Twilight felt her soul soar. “You better not back out.”

“Same to you,” Death replied, and they shook on it.

Upon release, Twilight promptly got up to get the cards—and just as promptly nearly fell face-first on the floor. Putting weight on the hoof she’d shaken with had apparently been a mistake.

“Miss Sparkle? You were leaning more to the right that time.”

“Thank you, Death,” the mare sighed, shaking her hoof violently to get the feeling back.

“Glad to be of service.”

There were two decks of cards in the magic kit Fluttershy had given to Spike for his last birthday. It had seemed like a mistake at the time, Twilight remembered as she pulled the box out from under her bed, but now she couldn’t help wondering if it was another manifestation of Pinkie’s uncanny sixth sense, as Fluttershy had hinted their friend had helped pick it out.

It wouldn’t surprise me at all, actually. Looks like my friends are here for me through this after all.

She smiled.

Death hadn’t moved when she came back with the cards, but she couldn’t help thinking the scythe looked a little closer to the doorway than it had before. Quickly trotting past and setting the decks on the table, Twi took a minute to wipe the taste of cards out of her mouth before explaining the game.

“Ahem,” She cleared her throat. “Just a review of the basic rules: the goal is to create four piles of cards—one per suit—in ascending order, beginning with the ace. We’ll both have seven piles of cards in front of us—the first will have one card, the second two, and so on. The rest of the deck will be kept for when we run out of moves. Each pile will have the top card face up. These are the only cards we can move, and we can only move them to another top card that is the opposite color and has a number value that is one above. Once a top card is moved, we can reveal the card underneath and that card becomes a top card. After we’ve used all the moves in front of us, we pull the first three cards of our individual decks, use the top ones first, and set all the ones we weren’t able to use aside. We can repeat this process until we’ve been through the deck, and when we return to the new deck we need to make sure we go through it in the same order. Does that make sense?”

“You really do like rules,” Death marveled.

Twilight lifted her head proudly. “Yes. Was that all clear? Questions?”

Death looked over at the decks she’d set down on the table. “...Could I have that milk now?”

Two minutes later, with the two games set up and a fresh glass of milk in Death’s hoof, Twilight swallowed some last minute doubts and prepared herself for a battle unlike any she’d ever fought before.

“Ready?” Death asked, tapping the cards.

The alicorn gave her best try at a confident smile. “You bet.”

And they began.

Twilight immediately went into a sort of hyper-focus mode, pinpointing every sense on the cards on the table in front of her.

There’s a four of spades and a five of diamonds, but the four of clubs is also available and it’s the only card in it’s pile...hmmm, if I get one of the red princesses when I go through the deck I could move it into the space that would create, and that would mean I move the wizard of spades on top of that, opening up several future options then if I move the four of spades. Of course, that’s assuming I get either the princesses of diamonds or the princesses of hearts when I go through the card pile—

She didn’t allow herself to even look up to see how Death was doing. Doing so might throw her off, and she couldn’t afford that. This was literally a game of life and death for her— losing wasn’t a option. She had to make sure she made the right moves.

A tense silence hung over the whole scene like an oppressive monarch. Even a fly wouldn’t have dared buzz. There was no way to tell how much time had past, but it felt like an eternity.

That is, until Twilight realized she had a problem. Then things seemed to speed up considerably.

I have the four aces, and the diamonds are there through nine, but there doesn’t seem to be anyway to retrieve the two of clubs from the deck! Drat, if only I had a red five available so I could get that four of spades out of the way! Where the hay is is the five of hearts!!??

Her throat grew dry. She heard Death go through the deck again, and her whole body tensed. She refused to look up. She would not be beaten by fear.

But that didn’t help the fact her moves were dwindling.

No, no way. There must be something I can do to turn this around. Where’s the three of spades? Not here...probably under the wizard of diamonds, who I can’t move. Go through the deck again, that’s it...I can move the seven of spades over to the eight of hearts here, but that just gives me the fool of hearts, and I can’t use that. Nope, nothing. Why? Did I miss a move somewhere? No, I carefully planned each choice, weighted every odd…

There could only be one explanation. An unsolvable deck.

It happened every once in a while. They had been annoying at the most in the past. Now, it was lethal.

Why now?! Merciful heavens, why now!!?? Of all times…

The mare frantically tried all the available moves, just in case something unforeseen would open up, but all this revealed was the predicted end. No more moves.

That was it. Twilight Sparkle had lost.

Her head dropped into her hooves. She barely held in a sob.

No...it couldn’t end like this! Why did I have to suggest a game that relies so much on dumb luck?! Something like...oh, I can’t think! I can’t think!

Will I still be able to think when I’m dead? Or will I just...exist?

Will I still need oxygen? My breath is really heavy right now.

I miss my heart.

Girls, I’m sorry. Spike...I’m so sorry...

She looked up, eyes glistening with unshed tears. It was too late now—she’d made a deal with Death, after all. There was no reason to make this torture last longer than it needed to. She’d failed.

I’m sorry...

She opened her mouth, determined to tell Death the horrible truth if she could get her voice to work at all.

And stared.

Death was sipping his milk, looking thoughtful as he moved the cards. And Twilight never seen anything like it in her life.

“Umm,” she finally cleared her throat. “Death?”

“Hmm?” The skeleton looked up. “Finished already?”

“No—I ran out of moves…” She trailed off, her gaze still lingering on the cards before him.

“So I win?”

“Uh…”

No.

The lavender mare reached her hoof across the table and pointed at one of the card piles. “You see this, right?”

Death blinked, cocking his head, but left the question unsaid.

Twilight sighed. “The cards...they’re…” His blank look made her squirm. “Well, you see they’re...not quite right.”

Oh for...he’s still looking at me like I’m crazy. Why do I feel bad for bringing this up?

“Not quite right?” Death asked. “How do you mean? I am following the rules, no?”

Twilight shook her head. “No.”

Death ‘raised an eyebrow’ again. Twilight slapped her forehead and with a sigh explained.

“You can’t put the same colors together, remember? That’s a two of hearts and a three of diamonds in this pile. They’re both red, right? They can’t go together.”

Death stared down at where her hoof was pointing, looking confused. His light specks seemed to squint.

“Is that so? Hmmm...I apologize. I must have missed the symbols on those two. This can be fixed easily, however. I thank you.”

Twilight fidgeted. “But...Death, most of your game is like that. A lot of the same colors are together.”

Death blinked at her. “Really?” He looked over the cards again. “Oh…well, no excuse for that, I suppose. I must be mixing up my symbols this afternoon. You said the diamonds and the hearts are red, correct? So this means neither one of us wins—interesting.”

Twilight blinked at him. A small vine of suspicion was creeping into her mind.

“You...can’t see red?”

The Pony of Death glanced up at her. “No.”

“Can you...see color at all?”

“Do black and gray count? Sometimes dark blue, if I squint hard enough.” He brightened. “But once I came to fetch an old stallion who punched me in the jaw and I thought I caught a glimpse of what you call ‘heliotrope’.”

The princess winced. “I’m so sorry.”

“Why? It was pretty.”

Twilight opened her mouth to reply, and ended up closing it again immediately like a goldfish. Death was examining both games with a critical eye.

“What are the usual rules for when a pony cheats, Miss Sparkle?”

“The other player wins by default,” the mare answered automatically.

“Ah. Well, it seems I have cheated, doesn’t it?” the being said, sitting up. “Even if it was unintentional. That means this game goes to you.”

Joy suddenly filled her chest, so intense it was almost painful. She’d won. She’d won.

And yet, her joy wasn’t complete.

I won, yes, but it’s only because Death couldn’t see the cards properly. I’m happy, but...this doesn’t feel right.

A lot of conflicting emotions were suddenly bubbling in her, and it made her feel slightly sick. She distracted herself by looking more closely at Death’s game. It was a little shocking to see how bad it was. The closer she looked, the more she realized it wasn’t just the color scheme that made this game a failure. All his moves, while technically correct, seemed totally at random with no method or strategy to support them. He probably would have lost quicker then she had, if he hadn’t been stacking the same colors together.

That should have made her feel better, but it didn’t. She turned away, feeling even more sick than before.

“Miss Sparkle?”

Twilight bit her lip and turned toward Death.

“Didn’t you hear me? You won. I have no power over you,” Death cocked his skull. “Aren’t you happy?”

The princess dropped her gaze. Yes, she’d won, but...

“Can I ask you something, Death?”

“Of course.”

She swallowed. “You knew I had the advantage over you, but you agreed to play me anyway. Why?”

Death didn’t answer right away. When Twilight looked up, she saw he was gazing at her thoughtfully.

“I suppose,” he mused after a minute. “I like games. I’m actually quite good at Scrabble, believe it or not. I just don’t get to play them very often, especially with other creatures. When the opportunity comes, I can’t dismiss it, now can I? I’ll probably get it trouble later, but if I’ve learned anything from this job, it’s not to waste opportunity.”

Twilight nodded slowly. “That’s...it?”

His boney shoulders shrugged. “Playing games seems to bind two creatures together in a way I’ve never really understood. I’m hoping one day, I will understand.”

The alicorn felt a huge lump in her throat. She looked away again.

This isn’t right...this isn’t fair...I want to live...but…

She knew what she had to do. It wasn’t what she wanted to do, but her conscience wouldn’t let her do otherwise. She took a deep breath and turned back toward Death.

“You want to play again?”

The specks widened slightly. “Play...again? For your soul?”

I’m sorry, everypony. But I can’t do it like this.

Twilight nodded. “Winning because you couldn’t see everything that I could doesn’t feel right to me. I technically lost too, so it’s only fair we have another game. This time, I’m sure we’ll both do better.”

And she gave him a smile to show she meant it.

Death blinked. “You could still loose, you know.”

“I know.”

“But you’re willing to do it anyway?’

“Mmm-hmm,” Twilight bobbed her head.

Death continued to stare at her. After a minute, he shifted. “You’re a strange one. Probably the strangest creature I’ve ever met.”

Twilight blinked. “Really?”

Death nodded. “No pony has ever dared play me again, you know.”

He paused, looking thoughtful. “Or dared to have lunch with me. This is a new experience.”

“If you think I’m strange, just wait until you meet Pinkie Pie,” Despite herself, Twilight giggled. “Has the Pony of Death ever had a birthday party?”

“No.”

“Trust me, you’ll like it,” the mare pulled her cards together and began shuffling them before she could change her mind. “Let’s get started, shall we?”

Death blinked again, but he started gathering his own cards without another word.

The second game wasn’t nearly as tense as the first, and was over fairly quickly. Because she wasn’t so nervous, Twilight was able to work faster and more efficiently than before. When she finished, she looked up to see Death still moving his cards around. He must of sensed her looking at him—he raised his head and met her gaze.

“Done?”

Twilight grinned. “Yep.”

Out of curiosity, she glanced down at his game. He’d managed to get all the colors right this time, but his moves were still as haphazard as before.

If he’s like this all the time, it’s no wonder he always lost in the stories…

Death noticed her inspection and shrugged. “Cards aren’t my favorite.”

“I can tell,” Twilight admitted. Saying any more would be rude.

The bone pony sighed. “You play like Celestia—very maneuvered.”

Twilight smiled. Maneuvered, eh? “Well, in games like this, it’s more important to figure out the right moves than to just—”

Wait…

“Wait a second—” Twilight started. “You don’t mean Princess Celestia, do you?”

“Naturally,” Death was reaching for the black notebook. “Who else?”

The purple mare felt her eyes pop. “But—you’ve played with the Princess?”

“On many occasions, actually,” Death affirmed, flipping through the pages.

“For—” Twilight waved her hoof. “You know?”

Death let out a new noise—a snort? His eyes gleamed as he looked up at her.

“That all things must die is an unwritten law of the universe, no? What made you think that a rule that applied to you wouldn’t apply to all other alicorns as well?” Death returned his gaze to the book. “Your kind seems especially determined to live as long as possible, however—I haven’t as of yet been able to beat one. I figured you’d be the same, to be honest.”

“I…” Twilight couldn’t believe it. She shook herself. “Are you saying I didn’t do anything wrong? That...all the other alicorns had to beat you at a game to keep living, like I have?”

Death shrugged nonchalantly. “They keep winning more years. The two sisters are regulars—Luna was a bit hard to get to for a while, but now that’s she’s back things are easier. Miss Cadence I’ve only had the pleasure of seeing once, in a cave underneath Canterlot.”

He paused. “She beat me at tiddlywinks. Tiddlywinks, can you imagine?”

“She’s an expert,” Twilight put in. “She used to be my foal-sitter, and I was never able to best her either.”

Death nodded. “All the creatures who manage to beat me always have something they feel they need to live for, something to push them past their fear, and rarely is it themselves.”

A thought came to the mare. “Even Discord?”

Death’s specks slanted. He set done the book and began tapping the table top with the tip of his hoof in an irritated manner.

“Discord—he just likes to spite me. He makes up his own rules, and even then I have a sneaking suspicion he cheats, though I haven’t been able to prove it.”

Twilight sympathized. I know what that’s like, she started to say, but then she noticed something.

There was a movement inside her chest. Something was warm, alive, and very ba-bum-y.”

With an excited squee, the pony flung open her wings. “It’s beating again!”

“You won,” Death reminded her, reaching for his quill.

Twilight giggled, feeling so light she wouldn’t have been surprised if she started floating.

Hello, long-lost friend!

She stood up, ready to twirl around the room out of sheer glee, but became so dizzy she had to sit down again. Death was counting the cards in his winning pile.

“How many cards are there in a deck?” he asked without looking up.

Twilight thought for a minute. “I’m thinking it’s fifty-two.”

“Hmm...fifty-two minus twenty is thirty-two…” Death murmured. He picked up his notebook and began to write. The quill stopped scratching and the being quickly surveyed his handiwork. Without a word, he passed the book over to Twilight and beckoned her to read.

Twilight looked it over:

Name: Twilight Sparkle
Race: Unicorn Alicorn
Age: 22 54
Date of Death: Spring 8
Time of Death: 2:05 P.M.
Cause of Death: Heart attack Dealt time up

“Does that look right?” Death questioned.

Twilight grinned. “Perfect.” She leaned forward and sniffed.

Oh, it is cherry-scented.

The bone pony nodded. “And I suppose you’ll challenge me again, when that time is up.”

After taking a moment to think about it, the princess shrugged. “Maybe. I do intend to live as long as my friends need me, at least. But I don’t want to live forever, especially without them.”

Closing the book, the alicorn passed it and the discarded waiver back across the table. “Hey, we can play Scrabble next time you come—I’m pretty good at that one too.”

Death seemed interested. “You’d dare challenge me to a game I’ve already told you I’m good at?”

Twilight’s eyes gleamed.

Oh, just you wait. I’ve been searching for a worthy opponent...

The Pony of Death studied her for a moment. “You’re interesting, Miss Sparkle. I’ll be looking forward to it.”

He bowed his head in acknowledgment. “I must leave you now. Things to do.”

Twilight stood up again, this time without the dizzy spell. “I understand—here, I’ll see you out.”

As the two passed by the scythe, it started to twitch. The blade flashed and it suddenly shot toward them. Twilight flinched backward, but her companion caught it with an almost careless gesture, not even breaking his stride.

I was never able to ask him about his magic. I wonder if he’ll take the time for some questions when he comes back?

Twilight pondered this all the way to the front door. but she didn’t bother asking any questions yet. Instead, she opened the door for her guest. She even managed to shake off the shiver she felt starting as he passed her.

“See you later,” she said.

Death paused, looking back. Reaching out a hoof, he lightly touched the tip of her horn and pulled away before she could react.

“A thank-you. For lunch,” he bobbed his skull at her. “ ‘See you later’, Miss Sparkle.”

He turned. As he did so, the door slammed shut, forcing Twilight to quickly dodge to avoid it.

Blinking, she hesitantly opened the door and looked out, but the Pony of Death was gone. For thirty-two years, anyway.

She shut the door and reached up to rub her horn. It was so cold…and yet, if her guess was correct, the skeleton’s touch had been meant as a parting kindness. Cautiously, she tested her theory by trying to lift a few books with her magic.

They rose without the slightest hiccup, and her horn felt just fine.

So he did heal it...I didn’t get to thank him, but I guess he didn’t want me to...

Remembering all those books she’d abused trying to climb out of the avalanche, Twilight trotted over to the mess. She found herself stumbling more than once on the short journey, and suddenly realized she was exhausted.

Gosh, who knew meeting Death himself, finding out you’re going to die, and trying to win your soul back was so tiring?

She managed to perform the repair spell, but she was too tired to do more than that. Setting the books back down without even trying to restack them, Twi leaned back and closed her eyes.

Vaguely, she was aware of the library door opening again.

“Hi Twilight!”

It was Spike. His break was apparently over now. Slowly Twilight opened her eyes and turned to look at him. He was peeking around the edge of the door, grinning at her.

“Sorry I’m late, but you’ll never guess who I—holy smoke! What happened?”

He stared at the de-piled books in front of her, as if not able to believe what he was seeing, then darted to see the damage in person.

“Did some of the books fall over? Let me guess, your wings hit them.” Spike turned toward her forlornly. “Does this mean we have to clean them again? Please say no. If I have to clean an extra book, I might—gah!”

Twilight threw herself onto the little dragon, wrapping her forelegs and wings around him in a tight hug. She squeezed her eyes shut to block out the tears, but they came anyway. The tears were followed by sobs, loud, choking sobs.

“Twi? Twi, are you okay?” Spike managed to get out, sounding worried. He reached his small arms around her to return the hug.

“Twilight?”

That was Fluttershy’s voice. Twilight looked up, and saw five very familiar mares standing outside the door, staring at her.

“Oh, hi guys,” she sniffed, and squeezed Spike tighter.

“Uh, are you okay?” Rainbow Dash flew over to her, carefully avoiding the book towers.

“Oh my—” Rarity trotted up next to her, her brow furrowed. “I guess Spike was right when he said you needed some help in here, desperately. Dash, don’t just hover there! See if there’s something in the kitchen Twilight can drink.”

Dash rolled her eyes, but flew off toward the kitchen anyway.

“Oh shoot,” Applejack was trying to keep her voice low, but Twilight heard it anyway. “He didn’t mention Twilight pulled the books out of storage too. No wonder she cracked.”

I don’t put books in storage. You know that.

Fluttershy gently squeezed past Rarity, somehow not disturbing the books that surround them in the slightest. Tenderly, she placed a comforting hoof on the alicorn’s shoulder.

“Spike met us in town and told us you needed some help cleaning the library,” she whispered. “I...I think it was good timing. You look really, really tired.”

“She’s right,” Rarity put in. “Twilight, dear, why not let us take care of this now? You’ve done enough for the day.”

“And, uh,” the yellow pegasus glanced down at the purple pony’s forelegs. “Let Spike go now? He’s...turning blue.”

Twilight quickly let go of the dragon. “Sorry Spike.”

“Nah, that’s okay.” Spike brushed it off, looking at her with genuine concern. “Twilight, what happened?”

Twilight wiped her eyes. “I... don’t really want to talk about it.”

They’d never believe it, especially right now. Applejack already thinks I’ve cracked...

“Twi,” the mare in question called, poking her head around Rarity. “They’re right—you look plum beat. I’d suggest you go upstairs there and rest for awhile—right now, sugarcube.”

The alicorn shook her head weakly. “But, you all don’t know the system yet…”

“I’ll explain it to them,” Spike patted her wing comfortingly.

“But…”

Pinkie suddenly shot out of nowhere and flung her arms around Twilight in an even tighter embrace then Spike had previously been in.

“My turn!” she giggled. “Twilight, don’t worry! We’ve got this!”

The purple mare laughed a little and hugged her back. Twi closed her eyes and felt herself become the center of the group hug. It was a bit awkward, since a lot of ponies were reaching from over each other to hug her, but it still felt very, very warm.

“Thanks, everypony,” she whispered. “This afternoon’s been...strange. I really do think some rest would help…”

There was a zoooom noise above their heads, and suddenly Rainbow was back, gagging.

“Twilight!” Dash shook herself. “What is in that cup on the table?! Seriously, it tastes like death.”

Five mares and a dragon jumped as Twilight Sparkle suddenly snorted and started laughing hysterically.

Fin.

Author's Note:

Thanks for reading!

Proofread by the esteemed Hogsbury Mudsworth. And basically my whole esteemed family. Thanks guys!

Comments

[Demarikus]

Honestly the best short story I've seen on this site so far.
Keep it up!

[TalkingwiththeRain]

9578395
Awwwww...:twilight blush:
I really appreciate that. Thank you.

[DarkPinkie]

Now we need a sequel for their game of Scrabble. Old mare Twilight versus Death. Lets see if Death can make many words with XXZV or something.

Also who knew that Death could just be challenged repeatably to games in order to get immortal. I mean, it is a trope but still.

[TalkingwiththeRain]

9578497
Yeah, pretty simple actually. He gets lonely...

[RBDash47]

This was a fun conceit -- I liked your take on the princesses' immortality.

Why the AU tag?

[TalkingwiththeRain]

9584890
Mostly because it's not cannon. Also I want an excuse if I ever want to bring Death back in any of my future stories, heh.

[RBDash47]

9585630
I mean, no fanfic is canon.

I didn't notice anything that would make it an AU, so unless I'm missing something, you might want to remove the tag; lots of people will pass over AU-tagged fics because they don't want to deal with learning a new universe's rules, but your fic seems like it could fit in "offscreen" in the show's universe.

Just my two cents.

[TalkingwiththeRain]

9585719
Thanks for the advice! I'll think about it.

[Catlovingmermaid]

This was great.