It's Called 'Living'

by appendingfic

Funereal Rites

IT IS LIFE THAT MAKES MANY CHANGES
-Terry Pratchett, “Reaper Man”

~~~

In every orderly universe, there exists a ritual, a rite, to summon forth the shade of Death. In such universes, they question the purpose of such a ritual, and in the end decide it is because it makes Death answerable, in some way, to mortals. Such researchers imagine a place where Death answers to no one, provides no answers except the inevitability of his coming, and find such a thought hellish beyond belief.

Regardless, in such an orderly universe, a sufficiently motivated scholar can find the directions for the ritual, and may, if brave or foolhardy enough, summon up the specter of Death.

One who is personal student to a sun god-queen knows little fear, and has no concept of things Mare Was Not Meant to Know. And an adolescent, knowing herself to be among the most powerful unicorns in Equestria, would foalishly believe she would be able to handle anything that went wrong.

It is these facts that led to the moment in which Twilight Sparkle first summoned the Pale Horse into her presence.

When the ritual was complete, Twilight stared intently at her guest to ensure she really was the Pale Horse. At first glance, she appeared to be an earth pony, but that was only because she lacked wings and a horn. She knew that the Pale Horse was the opposite of an alicorn, which embodied the creative forces of the universe, and had traits of all three races. By logical deduction, the Pale Horse, which embodied the force of destruction, would possess none of the traits of the three races...or, possibly, only the traits which they shared.

She was certainly pale, as her moniker demanded, with, yes, "coate pale, notte whyte as bone, whyche is deade, but whyte as milk, whyche is alive." And her eyes were "As blue as a glance into the infinite depths of the noonday sky." And, there, on her flank, was, "No Emblem or Mark, for what Sign could describe the Talent of Death, not the Bringing of Death, but the Being of Death?"

She grinned. "It worked!"

The Grim Trotter gave Twilight a cold, fixed glare. "Did you have a reason for summoning me, other than to prove you can?" she asked. "Some of us have duties to attend to." Her eyes narrowed. "As do you. A new life even now depends on you."

Shocked at the casual display of the Pale Horse's divinatory powers, and the casual almost-threat, Twilight shied away from the creature. Something changed in the Pale Horse's demeanor. She seemed to shrink, and her gaze softer. "I apologize, filly," she whispered. "I never had such an age of curiosity. It is hard to truly understand it. What is your purpose in calling me?"

"I just wanted...to know if I could," Twilight replied, terrified that, it being the Pale Horse's accusation, she would take Twilight immediately to the world beyond. "I'm sorry!"

"No, there is nothing to forgive. I...am not often summoned, and usually for a grave purpose. What of you? Surely you have studies, or can take some time for..." The Pale Horse seemed to struggle for a moment, as if looking for a word. "Your brother?"

"Maybe," Twilight replied. "Sort of. He's a baby dragon. I'm supposed to be in charge of him. But...I don't know how! None of the books in the library say anything about raising dragons!"

The admission seemed to startle Death; in truth, it did Twilight, too. She hadn't meant to say that. Certainly the Pale Horse didn't appreciate listening to her problems. Death had bigger things to worry about.

But she looked as flustered as Twilight felt; the flush on her cheeks was easy to see through her milk-white coat. "What do I know of caring for the living?" the reaper mare demanded. "Surely you have parents who can advise you. Teachers, at least? I did not think your people regularly allowed foals to wander libraries unsupervised."

"Ask Princess Celestia?" Twilight's heart hammered at the thought. Celestia was teaching her about magic, not child-care! And besides... "It's not like she ever had foals."

"Still, she has run this kingdom for more than a thousand years. She must have learned something. More than me, certainly." When Twilight hesitated, the Pale Horse sighed. "Go. Try it. If she will not help, she will know somepony who can. It will be a learning experience."

It was hard to argue with the reaper's argument, so Twilight let her head fall in defeat. "All right. I'll let you go. And, um, it was nice to meet you?"

That set the pale horse to laughing as she faded from sight, which made Twilight feel a little better.

The second time she summoned the Pale Horse, it was because Spike had become curious about death, and she thought the best pony to explain was, well, Death.

Spike stared at the reaper for an interminable amount of time. "You're beautiful," he murmured. Twilight started in shock, and the Pale Horse flushed from her ears to her hooves.

"What?"

Spike flushed a purple so dark it was almost black. "I meant-"

"No, don't worry. Few have ever said such a thing to me," the Pale Horse replied with a dismissive wave of her hoof.

Spike seemed to relax, but then he gave the reaper a strange glance, peering at her more intently. "Why are you a pony?"

Twilight could only stare at the dragon in shock. She had never thought to ask such a simple question, when she'd last met the reaper. To realize that already, her assistant was a scholar to rival her, was a revelation. And to think, dragons weren't usually known for their inquisitiveness.

"I know well it is hard to take the form of every life I collect. But why a pony, instead of a dragon? Your kind do not die often, or not quickly," the Pale Horse replied. "It seemed easier to be a pony, for all the ponies that are in the world.”

“Oh.” Spike nodded. “Hey, do you know when I’m going to die?”

The Pale Horse, if anything, grew paler. “Yes...and no. I know when you are...likely to die. But you have the freedom to choose a life different from the one I see. I cannot know for certain when you will die, Spike. But even if I did, would it help you to know it?”

She glanced between Twilight and Spike, eyes wide and watery with pleading. Twilight felt a spike of annoyance at the other mare’s condescension. She was a scholar; what would she lose by knowing when she would die?

Perhaps the Pale Horse knew ponies well, or perhaps she really could read minds (the research was unclear on that point), because she scowled and stormed forward (through the magic circle, some distant part of Twilight’s mind noted) until she was inches from Twilight’s face.

“To know the moment you are meant to die will rob you of your life. Those who have sought this knowledge have killed themselves from overconfidence, or become paralyzed with the knowledge of that fateful moment. But, for curiosity’s sake, tell me: what would you do with this knowledge?”

Twilight opened her mouth, but realized the moment before she spoke that her reply was...to test it. To seek out danger in the hopes of proving that she would last until the day she was meant to die. And if she learned she was to die in a year’s time, or a month, or a day...

“You already said it’s just a likely day, anyway!” Spike retorted. “So why should I worry about it?”

The words, as simple as they were, dispelled the spiral of worry that had threatened Twilight the moment she’d thought for a second about death. And next to her, Death stared at Spike with a vacant expression.

It took a moment for Twilight to work up a coherent thought, and in all that time, the Pale Horse didn’t say a word.

“Twilight?” Spike asked. “Did I upset her?”

“No.” Twilight stepped forward and hugged Spike tightly, a smile tugging at her lips. “I think...she didn’t expect you to be so smart, Spike.”

At that, Spike laughed. “I learned it from the best.”

The third time Twilight summoned Death, she had been called on another dangerous mission for Princess Celestia. There had been too many close calls in the recent past, and she was more nervous than usual. She didn’t even wait for the Pale Horse to fully materialize before she drew close to her (only to the edge of the circle; it still comforted her to have it there, even knowing Death could cross the line any time she liked) and demanded,

“Am I going to die?”

“Yes,” the Pale Horse replied. “Although I suspect I didn’t answer the question you asked me. I told you, Twilight, that what I know is only an approximation. Any one of a thousand things can change the time of your death. And with the possible exception of your assistant, who has demonstrated wisdom beyond his years, I will not share with anypony the moment of their death!”

“Then what good is this ritual?” Twilight snapped. “What can you do for us other than give enigmatic answers? My friends and I are facing mortal danger today. Any one of us may die, and all I wanted was...a little reassurance.” She sat down, hard, outside the circle, feeling tears welling up in her eyes. “They’re my oldest friends, you know. Aside from Smartypants, who isn’t real, and Spike, who’s...family. And every time we have to save Ponyville, or Equestria, I risk losing them.”

The Pale Horse sighed and settled down in the center of the circle. “That’s the risk you run when you come to love other ponies. Anypony can die any day, Twilight. You can’t demand reassurance that they won’t leave you; that’s inevitable. There’s no more help in knowing when they’ll die than in knowing when you will.”

Twilight stared at Death. For all that she’d declared that summoning Death was useless, there had to be a reason Twilight kept calling her. Of course she loved her friends, but having the inevitability laid out for her so clearly changed things.

“You’re right,” she said, feeling a sense of resolve building in her chest. She stood, summoning her bag to her side and turning to the door. “None of us are going to die today. But I won’t forget that they will, someday. I’m not going to waste this chance. Thank you.”

The fourth time Twilight summoned Death, it was...less amicable.

“Bring her back!” Twilight howled, only the sigils of the magic circle separating her from the Pale Horse. Death’s expression was unmoved, and the pale pony stood as still as stone.

“Who, Twilight? Many ponies died today.”

“You know who! Rainbow Dash!”

“She is dead, Twilight. I cannot change that-”

“You can! Legend says you will play a game for a pony’s life! Let me play for Rainbow!” Twilight summoned forth the chess set Rainbow had given her for her birthday five years ago, forcing herself to ignore the twinge in her heart at the thought.

The Pale Horse didn’t even look at the set. Her expression didn’t shift. “There is only one force in Equestria I must obey, and that is the Duty. Anything else is entirely within my discretion.” In response to Twilight furious glare, she clarified, “No, Twilight.”

Twilight lunged across the boundary of the circle, sending the Pale Horse shying away from her. She swung a hoof in the space Death had occupied a moment before, something that earned a narrow flicker of the Pale Horse’s blue eyes. “You don’t tell me no, Death. Nopony tells me no! Tell me, has anypony ever seriously tried to fight you? Seriously tried to hurt you? Because I think nopony ever has, and therefore, I suspect if I try, I can force you to bring Rainbow Dash back.”

“And what if she doesn’t want to come back?”

The Pale Horse’s words were like a slap; Twilight fell back, realizing simultaneously that she had yelled at Death, and that...maybe she didn’t understand as much as she thought she did.

“Doesn’t...?”

“It is my purpose to acclimatize the dead to their fate, to give them what they need to move on. And despite your continual insistence on summoning to solve your problems, I have no obligation to answer to you, or anypony. What transpires at the moment of a pony’s death is not for anypony else to observe. And no one has the right to question the only choice I am allowed.”

“But...” Twilight tried to articulate something, anything, to change the Pale Horse’s mind, but...with the rage fading, the reality of the situation was dawning on her. “I’m the most powerful unicorn in Equestria. I should be able to do...something.”

She was starting to shiver, but the chill eased as the Pale Horse drew close to her. She brought with her an unexpected and indescribable warmth; Twilight leaned into it unconsciously.

“You can remember her. She was a friend to you, and allowing your thoughts of her to hurt you betrays the happiness she brought you. You cannot bring her back, but don’t poison her memory.”

Twilight looked to the side, realizing that the Pale Horse was standing next to her. The attempt at a sympathetic expression was the last straw, and she started crying in earnest. “It’s easy for you to say. I...know I need to remember the good times. But it doesn’t stop it from...hurting!”

“I never told you not to feel, Twilight. The pain will...never go away. But the memories...will make things...better.” The Pale Horse stepped away, looking away from Twilight.

It struck Twilight that, even though she spent most of her time traveling the world, escorting creatures to the next world, the Pale Horse might have been more than a bureaucrat. She’d never asked, simply treating Death as some sort of library book. The Pale Horse had sounded like...she actually understood what losing somepony you cared about felt like.

“Do you need a hug?” Twilight asked hesitantly.

The Pale Horse shook herself and, when she looked back at Twilight, she was smiling. “It is an old hurt.”

Twilight did hug her, then, because even she knew enough to recognize the Pale Horse’s reply hadn’t been a “no”.

“I’m...sorry for yelling,” Twilight whispered. “You...you’ll take care of them...us, right?”

“Yes. Everypony deserves such care,” the Pale Horse replied. “They always have.”

The fifth time Twilight met Death, Rarity had been gone for decades. She didn’t tell Spike about her plan because he’d become jumpy as Twilight grew older, and it became clearer that, barring violence or sickness, he would outlive her by hundreds of years.

The Pale Horse was exactly as Twilight remembered her, eyes as ancient as suns with the body of a pony in her prime. It made her feel simultaneously old and ridiculously young.

Death looked at her, and Twilight saw only sympathy. “Why have you called me?” she asked.

Twilight took a deep breath. “I’m ready. Everypony I ever came to love in Ponyville is dead. I’ve done more for Equestria than any hundred ponies. I’m ready for you.”

“No, you’re not. Your life is not over.”

Twilight stamped at the stone floor of her lab and glared at the Pale Horse. “What more do I need to do before you’ll let me move on?”

Death sighed, and when she looked back up, Twilight could see the same hints of pain she’d found speaking to the Pale Horse when Rainbow Dash had died. “There is no checklist to life, Twilight, nothing you have to accomplish before you’re allowed to die. Life exists for you to enjoy. You should seek the most you can out of every moment you’re given!”

Twilight glared at the Pale Horse, feeling a strange sort of fluttering in her chest. “And do what? Make friends with ponies who I might still end up out-living? Look for ponies who’ll be heartbroken when I die?”

“YES!” The Pale Horse’s voice was like a six-inch-high word cut into stone, striking Twilight like a blow. “What is life for, otherwise? Every friend, every spark of love you can find, the greater your life is! I had forgotten that, only nursing my old hurts, until...”

“What is taking so long?” A pale blue unicorn appeared within the summoning circle, violet eyes narrowed in annoyance. “Trixie understands you cannot ignore the Duty, and the summoning is part of the Duty, but it doesn’t mean you need to jaw about wasting everypony’s time with every yokel who - Twilight.”

“Trixie?” Twilight demanded. “You - I thought you were dead!”

Trixie snorted. “Yes, well, one can imagine how that would preclude Trixie from socializing with Death.” Without missing a beat, Trixie turned her attention back to the Pale Horse. “Are you coming? We’re ready to deal, and you know Lauren doesn’t get much time to herself.”

The Pale Horse glanced at Twilight, something of an embarrassed tilt to her smile. But she was smiling, no hurt visible in her expression. “Yes, I’ll be right there.” Trixie vanished, and the Pale Horse drew close to Twilight. “She will, as all others, leave me in time. But it should not - will not - stop me from valuing the friendship I have now. Until we meet again, Twilight.”

When Death next met Twilight, Twilight had not summoned her. Twilight had been in the hospital for weeks, handling streams of visitors in between check-ups - students, colleagues, the Princesses, and Spike, who had parked himself outside her window and refused to leave. She suspected he knew what was coming, but had been careful not to mention it. He had some time after her, and she wouldn’t have her last weeks with him be sad.

When she heard, at midnight, the sound of hooves approaching her room, Twilight took a deep breath and tried to school her expression into a smile.

The Pale Horse slipped through the door and paused at the sight of Twilight.

“Who gave you balloons?” she asked.

Twilight glanced over at the arrangement of pink and purple balloons, and grinned. “Pinkie Pie’s...great-niece, I think.”

“Goodness. And she sent them because you’ve been brooding in the knowledge that your passing would cause pain?”

Twilight scowled at the Pale Horse, although she couldn’t work up any real force behind it. “You know I kept on making friends. You’ve met some of them, since.”

“Yes, well, I don’t often get the chance to tell somepony ‘I told you so,’ so let me be petty for a moment,” the Pale Horse replied, a tad peevishly. It was unlike the collected spirit she had met before, and she wondered...

Of course, until the last time Twilight met Death, she hadn’t been putting up with Trixie. “Was it worth it?” Twilight asked. “Taking on another friend?”

The Pale Horse glanced up at Twilight, startled, and her expression took the oddest turn. “I feel I should be asking you that. Or maybe not, because we both know the answer to that. Now, I think you and I have spent more than enough time talking in our existences-”

“Wait.” The Pale Horse paused in her approach. “I want to know. Do you have a name? Something to call you other than your Duty?”

The Pale Horse stared at Twilight for what could have been just a moment, or could have been an hour, and then she told Twilight her name. It was...oddly appropriate. She thanked the specter of Death by name, and, having made her final friend, Twilight passed on.