Interview with an Immortal

So, what all did you do for the next fifty or so years of your life after you discovered your problem?

     Well, the first thing I did after about a year was quit the EDF. I then decided to apply for the Wonderbolts. Of course it went well-- I was famous for my speed and wing power, not to mention my actual wings. These bad boys are larger than, yes, the royal wings of Celestia herself. The way I got them that way was through extreme exercise, body building, toning, and genetics. Most of my mother's family were earth ponies, so I inherited their think, dense bones. Naturally, my wings would have to be able to carry my weight somehow, lest they be useless, so they adapted to my physique.

     But anyways, when I applied for the Wonderbolts, it only took about four days of processing before I had the job. Hell, they didn't even put me through training since I already studied and knew the bulk of their techniques. I also developed my own moves, and taught to my inferiors. You see, it wasn't long before I became their captain, only about seven months. This was relatively unheard of, but I did it. My former lieutenant, Spitfire, also decided she would try getting in. She was accepted after a few months, and I personally promoted her to my wing pony, and we became tighter and faster friends every day.

     It was then I realized that she wanted to be more than friends. I felt the same way.

     It had started after our fifth tour together. We had just gotten back to Cloudsdale when I asked her out. I had taken her to one of the finest restaurants I knew of, Sunset's Garden. The food was remarkable, as always, but it was after that counted.

     We were standing on a bridge, looking down on a thin river. I had decided that before we went home to our weekend break, I wanted to leave my mark and show her I was interested in this relationship.

     I turned to the mare, called her name softly, and brushed some hair out of her face as she turned to me. I gazed into her eyes, combed my hoof through to the back of her head, pulled her to me, leaned in, and planted my lips firmly on hers. I could feel her blush, feel her melt into my forelegs as I wrapped them around her. I stood about four inches taller than her on hind legs, and used that to my advantage as I pushed my tongue against her teeth. She gently opened her mouth, and our tongues danced together. She moaned into my mouth as we continued for another minute before finally parting lips.

     This was probably the second mare I had ever gotten in a relationship with and wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible. The only other mare I fell for was a friend from high school. I was fifteen then, and we kept it together through our senior year. I was going to propose to her, but she died from a street mugging. I wasn't able to defend her. The bastards had stabbed me in the gut and shot her, then ran off with whatever they could find on her corpse while I lay bleeding out in an alley, barely able to breathe as blood flowed from my abdomen.

     Spitfire and I.. Our dating relationship hadn't lasted quite as long. I had finally married her after three years. What an idiot I was to think we could lead a happy life together. I never even told her my deepest secret.

     My inability to die.

     She also wasn't the first mare I had my way with. The one from high school beat her to it. But she didn't care. So long as she was deflowered by me and no pony else, it was fine.

     After a while, she had gotten pregnant. We waited about 322 days, which was usual. The foal, though.. It was a colt. He inherited her burning orange eyes and golden coat, but with a darker tint. His mane was blue, with rainbow tips. "He's got your tips," she laughed. Indeed he did.

     We decided to name him Rainbow Fire Dash.

     Raising him was interesting, though. The day he could fly, we were teaching him all we knew. We made him work out his wings and tone his body, so that he would be a powerful flyer like us one day.

     He was a rebellious youth, and often got in trouble at school. But he was practically a genius, "like me," according to my wife. Did I tell you I graduated from the Cloudsdale University for Gifted Minds? Well, I did.

     When he was about thirteen, I decided to introduce him to guns. I taught him everything about handguns, shotguns, assault rifles, you name it! When he completed his training, I promised him something special for his fourteenth. When that day arrived, I had given him his very own M-24 and a Glock 17. He was never able to finish telling me how grateful and happy he was, he was so excited. He and those guns had a history of their own.

     It was when Spitfire was about 54 when she realised something was off about me. She wondered why it appeared I hadn't aged a bit, while she had. I told her it was because I was part earth pony, and she bought it for about fifteen years.

     Then she say me down at the kitchen table for a talk.

     "Why is it I have grey in my mane and yet you, a stallion five years older than me, looks like he's twenty-five? What's up with you, Stormy?"

     I sat and sighed. I finally saw that this was it. I wouldn't be able to stay with her forever. She would die, and so would Fire. So would Soarin. So would every one else I knew.

     Then, I told her to excuse me for a moment. She sat there in anxiety and frustration hidden by her best poker face, but I was no fool. I could tell someone's emotions by the look in their eyes.

     I marched up to our bedroom, opened up the gun vault, and selected my .44 from the assassination mission back in '17. I then trotted downstairs and placed the gun on the table and and sat down. "What is this?" She spoke angrily. "A revolver? Is that supposed to answer my question?" She began to raise her voice. "What the hell is this, Stormy? You think this is funny?!"

     I then picked up the revolve with my left hoof. "Stormy, what the fuck you doing?! Put that down, Stormy!!"

BANG.

     I fell over onto the kitchen tile as blood sprayed from the back of my skull and gave the walls a fresh new coat of paint. Everything turned to nothing, and that was the last I remembered before an all-too familiar feeling set over me.

     My spine suddenly arched upwards as I sucked in a gallon of air and choked on it all. The hole in my head pieced itself back together in front of Spitfire's eyes as I sat up and gave her the serious stare. She quivered as she teared up.

     "What.. What are you?"

     That was all I would let her say before I removed my gold necklace with her feather clasped onto it and set it on the table. She knew what this meant. I knew what this meant. All pegasi knew what this meant.

     I wanted a divorce.

     "I won't sit and watch you grow old and die while I stay young. That's cruelness towards you and torture to me. I will not stand by while you slowly die before me. I've seen too many die in seventy five years. Too many. I won't watch you die, too. Not you. I love you too much. This is for both of us, because I know you'll be too weak to do it. I'll schedule an appointment with a judge and we can get our papers by tomorrow. They'll separate us for three months, and then, it's final."

     I could barely understand her through her sobs. "I don't understand! How are you still alive!?"

     "I'm sorry I never told you. I wanted this to last as long as possible. I'm a fixed point in time. I can't die because I didn't die like I was supposed to forty-three years ago. No matter what I do, I will always come back to life. But you won't. You will die one way or another, and there is not a damn thing I can do. So, to end the pain, I'm ending our marriage and our bond. I'm sorry, Spitfire."

     I spoke with very little emotion, seldom showing a tad of anger as I said "damn". She dried up her tears quickly and gathered her composure. "Alright."

     After our divorce, and when my forty-something year old son decided he would support his mother for the rest of her life, my forty years of fun and excitement mixed with sadness and tragedy began. I vowed never to marry another mortal mare again. But that didn't mean I wouldn't have my way with them.

     For the next forty years, I lived.