The One Question
Timber Roots stared down at the scene of which he had been a part of just a moment before. A thin tree had come down over top of a large stallion, its trunk perfectly perpendicular to the pony. Where it had connected, the stallion’s back tore and bent in an unnatural way, pushing its belly into the ground. The pony’s spine had been broken, leaving the body limp. Blood trickled out of the wound and the brown stallion’s nostrils and mouth.
Timber could only feel overwhelming sorrow. His senses were dull, though even if he could hear the songs of the birds of the Everfree forest, they did not matter to him. The broken body in front of him was all that mattered. A cold feeling left him shivering and made his hooves feel heavy and immobile. In his peripheral vision, the usually green and dark Everfree became simply dark. Hues bled away, except for the ones that colored the crumpled stallion. Every miniscule detail of the corpse became magnified in his mind, from the matted blond mane to the slowly fading brown pelt. It was a strange feeling to observe one’s own body while not occupying it.
The sound of hooves running towards him caused him to turn and look at a particularly dark portion of the forest. Timber stared not in fear, but in fascination. At first it sounded as if one pony was approaching him, but as the sound got closer the hooves seemed to multiply into the hundreds. The thumping stamped out any thoughts he may have had. After what seemed like an eternity, the stampede stopped and only one large black alicorn pony trotted toward him out of the darkness.
The mare was a somewhat unappealing sight. Pieces of her dark skin were missing, providing a clear view to parts of the bones of her skeleton. The feathers on her wings were plentiful close to her body, but her wingtips were barren of any covering. The leathery parts were filled with holes as her wings were splayed out in the open air. Her limbs were thin and bony, lacking any muscle. The joints were clearly visible, almost looking painful. The darkness that formed her mane and tail flowed in a breeze which Timber could not feel himself, and clumps of it broke off and disappeared in the wind. Her horn protruded through the shadow looking wickedly sharp and had a gleam to it, as if it had just been polished.
“Timber Roots,” she boomed, towering a few meters over the large stallion. Her voice cut through him, shrill and sharp. “Your time has come.” With that statement, the darkness concealing her face cleared. It was skeletal, her thin skin draped over it, doing nothing to conceal the pointed bones beneath. She lacked eyeballs. Instead, her eye sockets appeared to be full of the essence of shadow itself. Two blood red dots marked her pupils. Timber felt a hole being bore into him, right into the very core of his soul. Surely, this was Death herself.
Though Death’s appearance was sickly and her posture menacing, the brown stallion felt comfort in her presence. He could not take his eyes off of her. She placed a solid hoof on his shoulder, and where their skin made contact, Timber felt warmth. The sensation reminded him of how it felt when he embraced his special somepony. Not an intimate or lusty embrace, but one of true love and passion for each other. One of pure, concentrated, love. Though he still felt chilly and melancholy, the feeling was not as intense. He needed Death. He needed her to take him, take him away from the cold, cold world he was in now. To where he did not know and really did not care, but he knew it would be better there.
Death spoke to him once again and inquired, “Is there anything in the world that you would like to know?” Timber felt a chill go up his spine. “You are allowed your One Question before you move on completely,” she added. What did he want to ask? He thought about his friends, his family. How would they fare without him? Would Carol eventually move on, even with their children? Would his fillies be successful in life, more successful than he ever was? The deep feeling of sorrow claimed him once more as he thought about his loved ones.
The dark mare moved closer to him, “Please, relax with me.” The two laid together on the grey forest floor. Timber pressed his body against hers, finding that even though her ribs were visible, they did not poke into him. The brown stallion continued pondering about his One Question. He did not want to waste it.
He thought about his life. It felt short now. At the time, his life seemed to drag on and on. Though he did not especially want to die, his life had gone into a dead-end. During school, he did not pay much attention, and eventually dropped out. School wasn’t for everypony, and Timber was one of them. After he got his woodchopping cutie mark, that was for certain. He met the love of his life during school and stayed in contact with her.
Carol Berry was her name. The two had it rough sometimes, both being stubborn and believing that they were always right. But their love always came out on top, and the two were married. They had three fillies, each one overflowing with love. Timber Roots’ family was how he got along, and how he made it through each day. But he found that his own personality was lacking, and that the days that went by blended into one. Everyday was the same, he’d leave home, chop trees down for a client, and then go back home.
Though today hadn’t started off much different, it clearly took a drastic turn for the worse. Now he could only feel sorrow, and a deep passion to move on in life. Well, not in life, but whatever came next.
He thought about death. Surely he was already dead, but he wasn’t wherever ponies go when they pass for good. What was that place like? Was it comfortable, like his home? Or was it cold and dull, like their current setting? Timber looked thoughtfully at the pony who would eventually bring him there.
“Death, what do you remember?”