Know That I Love You

by Snowybee

Rating: teen
Tags: Dark, Sad, Drama, Adventure
Length: 11359

After meeting an untimely end, Diamond Tiara must decide if she deserves another chance at life.

The Game: Each month, the recently departed are given the choice to gamble what little they have left in death for a chance to reclaim their life. Hundreds upon thousands scour a dark corner of the world, racing to prove themselves worthy and saintly in the eyes of Reapers.

However, only one soul can earn this right at a time. Forced into cooperation with one another, each soul must constantly face up to their own worth til the very end.

An ordinary mare who sought to reconnect with her old home meets her end in a tragic disaster. With a toll of utter loneliness, Diamond Tiara must persevere through the unforgiving Game with no one at her side.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2016-05-04 02:42:12 UTC

Day ?: Deliverance

I recall, by about the tenth one, I had started counting the doors I randomly gave a shot.

The first room; that one’s hard to remember. A head full of fuzz, and a single door to take. I had stood up, wobbly and gurgly and none too pleased. This thick, silken mass of a carpet cradled me for what I assumed was a while, given the imprint I left in it. Even turning my head to observe the spot nearly lit a fire under my lunch. I had to take a seat after a few seconds of trying to clear my senses, and unconsciously I pulled the thick cush in either hoof to my face, as if to make it a pillow.

Warm, orange light, well, lit the room. I held up an arm to catch some of it, and even the shadow it cast on the carpet looked about as cuddly as a bunny. I snorted at the thought: a bunny? Was I twelve again, or something? I somehow felt at ease with notion, upon reconsideration. A few brainless giggles escaped me.

I raised my arm higher to edge my shadow up to the wall. Since the light was overhead, that would have failed anyways. The walls came to attention, thanks to the little folly. Pitch. Black. I scooched a little closer the the wall to the right of the rather plain-looking wooden door, and pressed my hoof to it.

A clear wall. I could make out motes of dust beyond it, revealed by the warm light above. The surface chilled through my frog to my wrist. Quickly, the appendage snapped back to me, and I pressed it under myself, between that astonishing carpet and my coat, astonishing in its own right.

By rolling to my right to further the pressure, I noticed the back wall of the room. A frame, tall and wide. Wide and tall, a painting filled it out. It was a chair.

Just a chair.

Well, not any ordinary chair.

The chair, oddly-crafted it was. A mockery of some space-age eyesore catching on in Equestria these days, the seat consisted of a half-sphere with a faux leather cushion with in. Legs of blushing rust, three briery horns propped on their tips, held it up. You could find a piece of twisted debris at a carriage wreck that would be able to hang out with such chair legs. Any stubbing incidents would be a nightmare.

Just an empty chair. The thought, honestly, put me on edge. I found myself in an unfamiliar room, ‘livened’ up by an aimless work of art. Who would make it? Who would buy it? I was in one of those parties' house, on their turf.

Naturally, I said ‘fuck it’ and struggled with the door. My physical malaise had passed by then, so overcoming that door was child’s play. I hadn’t quite panicked, but my hooffalls woomphingagainst the carpet created a frantic swing. My ear twitched. It wanted to hear a wet ‘ol ride cymbal, but all it got was fuzzy kicks.  To even ponder such a drum beat was absurd.

The distraction didn’t last. The hallway, I conceded to myself, had no end in sight. The path of red ended at the eye of a needle, entering a level of smallness that tangibly blocked my conception of any path further than that point.

My steps gained a tempo, and my mood evened out. I simply trotted in the absolute silence.

I fretted over some thing before my deliverance into that small room. Did anything exist before now? It tasted like a dream, with a repulsive aftertaste. I felt a tingle in my chest. Some hole tightened with time, where a thorn once made home. That thing had tortured me, buzzed in my ear like a fly. It sapped my energy one moment, then disquieted the next. That thorn stung when I noticed it, and itched when it didn’t matter. I had, had to know it was there. I couldn’t let it go.

Then, this moment of silence. I wished not to speak in this moment. Eventually, my eyes slid shut for the first time since I awoke.

I felt that next door appear to me. My eyes weren’t necessary, nor my hooves. It gave way for me. Dozens of other doors like it surrounded me, cornered me. I spun a lazy spin to take in my situation. The space on the floor was wide, and inviting.

But the doors peered down at me!

The scab in my chest tingled. I couldn’t keep my eyes shut anymore. The itch shot up and down my neck, a griffon’s stranglehold should their claws have been of finely shaved steel. I curled into a ball, focusing on the warmth of the carpet. I rocked, rocked back and forth.

I sobbed.

Even the thought of ignoring my pain made it worse. I put a hoof to my chest, and pressed down as hard as I could. My flesh creased and tore away with ease. I stopped just short of my ribs when the lightheadedness set in. That rib pinched my spine under the pressure, the point of their meeting becoming sensitive to the beat of my heart. The frog of that hoof felt something like a little guppy flopping under it.

I could tear it out to ease the pain. It was just the matter of a few inches. Simple.

If a one-mare stalemate were possible, then that’s what ensued. I held my hoof to the bone, scraping at it a few times to affirm the pinching in my stomach. All the discomfort kept me from backing down completely, oddly enough. With a groan, I had rolled on my back to face the inky black up above. A sourceless light, I had realized, gave the dust in the air any meaning to my eyes. I could see perfectly clear, yet no matter where they searched, my eyes couldn’t find a lamp, a sun, a fire. Nothing.

The warmth made itself perfectly known to my skin, despite that. The bare muscle not under my hoof felt no pain under the warmth. My insides, wrapped up by all my flesh and fur, couldn’t share in the warmth. Experimentally, I lifted my hoof from the wound. The faintest ray of light pierced the thin layer of flesh still left just barely, and touched my heart. My body shook, from loin to shoulders. The almost ethereal, barely present shock of the light was enough to lay me low. Well, lower.

Unconsciously, my bloodied hoof drifted lower on my body, spreading the cool substance on it. Clouds of blood rose from the hole on my chest, as if I were submerged in water. I studied it carefully, pausing my wandering hoof at the last second. No time for distraction.

The blood formed a metallic rose, and in its luster I could see my reflection.

A pony, a mare! She had beautiful blue eyes, yet they were sunken and torched. Her coat, a lovely pink, made fluffy through what likely was a great deal of care. Even more pampered was her mane, a violet dabbed with white. This pony cared a lot about herself, I surmised.

My blood clouded the air even further. The claret bouquet rested on the other side of things. I saw that mare within it, but her reflection was captured by it merely through circumstance. Truly, it awed me far more than that pony, who stared with as much awe as I. A pang of jealousy hit me.

I wanted to turn into something like that, too. To be turned inside out into something so majestic. The rotten heart in my chest cavity begged to be dipped in the light, before it was too late. Before, so too, my blood dripped away like the pretty mare’s.

Before I knew it, my vision blurred. A painless fog seized my head. First my hind legs, then hips to shoulders; a cold wing cradled me and lifted me upward and aggravated the storm behind my eyes. I couldn’t feel even one more thing.

I guessed that, at last, my book had shut. I smirked, imagining the pretty mare applauding at me. I couldn’t conceive of any one else who’d clap for me in this place.

My eyes drifted shut…

And then I fell back down.

I cried out! I cursed, most unladylike. I floundered on the ground, struggling to find my bearings. Most unladylike. Even with these reflexive actions, that thought needled me. I looked up to find the rose, and to my horror, it drifted higher and higher. I reached out to it, but it didn’t respond. The petals fizzled, dried and cracked. Bits and pieces of the foul thing rained down on me, fading away before I could think to scoop any up and fix it. My hooves moved with uncertainty as they grasped the air. Why was the stench so foul? I couldn’t smell a thing earlier, perhaps. I could hardly recall.

I heard a door shut. Just as suddenly, I got my wits about myself. There were countless doors. I was assured of my solitude, so sure before. I didn’t even know anyone else could be here, besides that mare.

Me.

“D-Diamond.” My voice irritated my throat. Desperately dry. “Diamond.”

“Oh? I didn’t think you could hear quite yet.”

The other spoke. I shivered. No one else could be here. No one. Alien dread overcame me. I could remember, so faintly, to have never felt anything so strongly. I needed to show composure in new company, yes. Yes, that was it. Such ridiculous thoughts couldn’t be thought by a normal pony.

A snappy response was necessary. I opened my mouth. “Ah.”

I tried again.

“Aaah.”

The other giggled. “I suppose you can’t remember what words are still. Not quite, anyways. You do remember how to make them, so that’s a good sign! It’s a great sign.”

Muffled steps. They came in threes, a gallop. The other was like me, then. I could see myself in the rose earlier. Maybe, just maybe, I could see the other. I needed to put my eyes on them. Given that I couldn’t see the other where I lay, they must have been behind me.

Behind. Away from my eyes. I needed to… turn around. Sadly, my legs only knew forward. With no other recourse, I rolled over onto my back and craned my head. Clear as day, I saw the other standing a few lengths away, watching me with a playful glint in their eye.

They were nothing like me. A bright green, with strange golden eyes and adorned with a pale grey blazer. Gold… a pleasant thought. Did I like gold before? I filed that one away.

“Oddly enough, ponies like you tend to be the most amusing at this step, Miss Tiara.” The voice; it had high pitch to it. Not so high to obscure the maturity behind it, either. A mare. She moved forward, then broke right to begin pacing a circle around me. “You and your facades. A big machine of lies and concessions. A changeling who’s always the same. You are one thing to one being, then another to the next.” She sniffed. “I could sense your disgust earlier. To be sincere before another pony; even here, you still can’t let that one go.”

I grit my teeth. “Who do you think you are?” I grunted out at her. It came so easily, too. My deep, though feminine voice, proved more pleasant than the other’s to my ear. Hoarse as it was.

The other took a few more steps to land a spot right over my head, and she tilted her head to look down at me. All of the mirth had left her eye in an instant. I didn’t gulp, but the stare unnerved me. Yellow, rather than gold. A nocturnal beast watching its plaything, it had no intention of giving me any meaning or love.

Never again did that mare give me such a look.

“I’m your savior, Diamond. You should show more respect.”

“H’oh? My savior, you say?” I scoffed. I rolled my eyes. Such simple acts returned my nerve to me. “You didn’t do a very good job then if this surrealist’s wet dream is where you brought me. Do you have any idea how long it’s been since I’ve… I’ve eaten?”

The other smirked once more when I tapped my chin in thought. “I’m sure your wandering has felt like days, Miss Tiara, but I assure you that you’re in no danger right now. Not from starvation, at least.”

I flipped my mane. Boy, did that feel good. Even when half-baked, I could tell when my glorious locks deserved admiration. “Are you the butler of this shitty hotel, then? You look the part, Miss…”

The corner of her mouth twitched. “Lyra. I’m no mere butler, I’ll have you know. I’m the manager of them all at this little 'hotel', and I deemed you worthy of a personal visit. I’m now very certain that ‘good manners’ weren’t how you planned to get yourself back into your father’s life.”

Father. A shard of ice slashed through my neck and shoulders at that word, yet I couldn't comprehend it.

“F-father?”

She waved her hoof, a slow cut to the air. It wasn’t like I could voice any more than I did, so I obeyed. ‘Lyra’ stepped to the side, revealing a small, wooden stool. Dollar store in aesthetic, but it seemed unearthly in its shape and grain, as if someone painstakingly matched, raised and folded to the original defects to somehow make it utterly seamless.

I knew what sat ontop of it. I simple marveled at the little stool to avoid acknowledging it. A huff from my left side; slowly, Lyra moved her right hoof to pick it up.

I all but lunged at her!

“Stop!”

My face met grate. Hard. Almost cutting into my flesh where the grates made contact. I fell back, clutched my head and hissed through my teeth.

Lyra picked up vase. A beautiful red flowers swayed inside it..

My eye shot open. I felt it. Behind five parallel golden lines, she held it.

“They always do that, Miss Tiara,” Lyra said after a fit of chuckling. “Isn’t it something else? They don’t even know what is I’m taking, but they react so, so… instinctively when it’s endangered.”

My ears roared. “What do you mean, endangered? I swear, if you... “ I shot to my hooves, worked my jaw, stepped around nervously. “If you…” I glared down my nose at the smaller mare. I was, at most, a head taller than her, yet she watched me playfully behind her cowardly magic.

“If I what? Drop it?” She looked me dead in the eye. Slowly, her wrist tilted. Panic gripped my mind. I didn’t even move, for fear of causing it to drop sooner. My eyes pleaded with hers, hers staring right through me.

I fell. My throat locked up. I couldn’t breathe! In that split second I charged. Shoulder first, right into her barrier. A resonating snap gave the very next step purpose. I lunged once more! Strong wind sliced through my fur, painless. The gale caught strands of ripped carpet and sent them behind me, keeping my sight clear on the vase.

Just mere inches from the ground. Then, something held me back. The momentum crushed my lungs. Pressure around my torso told me I was caught. Caught by something big. Just as quick as I had moved, it yanked me away.

I cried out! I stretched my arm out at the doomed flower. The thing threw me aside through a cloud of fibers and dust, obscuring the aftermath.

At last, I collided with the transparent walls. My breath completely escaped me, and I coulda sworn my guts did too. I bounced from the wall and plummeted to the floor, face first.

“So it’s agreed, then!” Lyra cried to me.

I groaned. I knew right away that my rose was safe, but that did nothing to ease the pain in my back. Slowly, I looked up at Lyra, and I gasped.

A large shadow loomed behind the mare. Formless. Its outline nearly blended in with the darkness all around. Two carapaced, bone-white appendages reach through their veil of darkness, two wicked talons as white as the rest. Held most delicately in its left was the vase with contents utterly unscuffed. Lyra watched me from the corner of her eye, and glanced to the creature’s right talon. It idly flexed as she hummed. “You almost reached it. That’s quite the rarity, to tell you the truth. I’m sure you will give us a most exquisite game.”

Her horn shone, bright as the sun. I raised an arm to shield my eyes, on reflex, until it faded after a few moments.

Then, I was all alone.

What had I agreed to?

***

Lyra left me to my own devices. I stayed in the ‘atrium’ for a while, calling out her name, cursing; whatever I felt like shouting.

I had no clue which door I came through anymore. Whatever one I decided to take could have been that very door, leading me back to where I began. The prospect seemed tempting, but it was a long shot. I picked a door and ran with it.

The hallways, long and featureless like always, stretched for ages. Every single one. I stayed any thoughts through that first door. Just focused on moving ahead. Not surprisingly, I wound up in another atrium. Exactly the same in every way.

It probably WAS the same one. I couldn’t trust that Lyra for a second. Through the second hallway, I began to think.

And I began to remember.

I remembered my home, and the ground beneath my hooves felt more solid. I remembered my name, and I felt like someone watched me. I remembered friends and faces, and felt like I had done something with my life. More than existing in indescript blackness, anyways. For all I knew, everything that came to me seemed like how it should have been.

Diamond Tiara; a simple mare who lived a simple life. She shared a roof with an eccentric griffon couple, Gregory and Galena. We did everything together, because apparently ‘third wheel’ wasn’t something those bird brains could understand. It weirded me out, as an Equestrian, but I learned to accept it with time.

Up in chilly Vanhoover, an equally simple town. That was home. Anything I could really remember happened around my arrival there, up to now. I didn’t know what ‘now’ was, but I felt spry as always. Certainly not that long.

The mare I was was employed by a bustling bakery, aptly name, well, the Bustling Bakery. She swore to buy enough stock so that she one day could petition a name change, but the folks were nothing but pleasant despite the affront to any sensibility their naming conventions were. It didn’t take long for my teenaged self to get to know all the faces around town, fronting that place.

The mare I was had many friends. They all agreed I was sassy and crude, yet sweet and humble. They never pried about my time before moving to Vanhoover.

That thought crossed my mind at the eighth door, when I bothered to count.

I paused my hoof just before it reached the handle.

My mouth moved on its own. “A-and never come back, you selfish little… little…”

I heard another voice alongside my one. Where I stuttered, it fronted rage. Hatred. I heard other echoes, remnants of a tirade, laced with curses. That one bite still was clear as day.

I gripped the handle as my legs gave out. It was like someone gouged my back with a knife! I retched, coughed. My stomach spasmed, but I had nothing to give. I wanted it to stop. I didn’t want to hear it. I wished it away.

And it went away.

I lay there, panting. Curled up and clutching my stomach, I sobbed once more. That memory faded too quickly me for to understand, but the sheer grossness felt all too familiar.

The mare I was could forget it with a thought.

And I was Diamond Tiara. Her friends often asked what her special talent was, how she got it. I told them I didn’t remember.

And that was all there was to it.

***

By the fourteenth door, I stumbled into a lobby.

Not just any lobby. Wait, it was just any other lobby. The walls were a solid blue with marble texture to them. The carpet no longer warmed my ankles. Still plush, but spare like any normal carpet was. Benches lined the walls, spaces equivalent to their own length between them. Square, gold filigree lent a pattern to the walls, matching with the benches perfectly.

A door clinked shut. I jumped, and may have squeaked. Very quietly, I assure you. I wheeled around to find a pair of automatic doors, suited to an elevator. The meter just above denoted numbers, B, then 1 to 51.

So I wound up the first floor. That is, if I had taken the fucking elevator. I droned in confusion, looking between the sunlit corner down the hall and the elevator. There were no answers to be found, so I hesitantly pressed forward. Sore legs whined for some sort of destination.

I hugged the wall a few meters before the stripe the sun’s light engulfed. My head tilted  and my ear swiveled, reaching for some sign of life.

Humming. Slow, swingy. Spacy, not much rhythm, lost a few times. The mare vocalized a bit.

“Truly, I know,

Oh, truly, I know who you are,

December will bear...]”

The voice went back to vague humming. I heard the sound of bristles on tile, quick strokes. I snorted; what did I have to fear from a cleaning mare? I turned the corner and strutted right down the middle of the hall. A set of turnstiles blocked the way, so I decided to do what came natural. “Who’s over there, huh?! I wanna file a complaint!”

The mare meeped in surprise. I scanned the actual lobby; bright, bright sunlight washed out the blue on the walls, and colored in the ivory floor tiles. Something like incense tinged the air and dim faux-torches studded the walls, otherwise bare. Another hallway opposite of me suggested that another elevator was indeed present. To the right, a wall mostly comprised of glass made up the front doors to this place. Revolving doors: the shit-for-brains’ alternative to actual doors.

On the left, a large desk lined the wall. More turnstiles stood guard on either side, though the right gave enough room for a door, presumably to access the other side of the desk. A mare peeked over said desk. She blinked twice when our eyes met, then lowered the broom held in her magic to rest against the wall.

“A complaint? Was our service not to your standards, Miss Tiara?” she asked, worried.

Immediately, I hunched lower and bared my teeth. “How do you know my name?”

The mare ducked lower behind the desk, only her striking red eyes showing. Definitely evil.

“I-I, I mean, my job is to check in our guests. You’re the only one who on the list left, s-so I made a lucky guess.” She stood up some more and shot me a big smile. “Yay me, right?”

I cocked my head. “Check in? I’m already in, you dingus. Those are the front doors, right?” I said. I pointed them out, and only then did I notice how the bright light outside completely shrouded the outside world. I tried to squint, but still my eyes stung. I pushed my way through the metal bars to get a better look outside.

“You don’t remember coming in then, I take it,” she said. She tapped her chin with the tip of the broom handle. “That’s pretty typical, actually. I can assure you that, while you didn’t use those doors, you are indeed checking in. Right now.”

I glanced back at her a few times during my fruitless venture. No matter how hard I looked, only the shade of pavement showed on the ground. Anywhere else, and there was nothing but searing white.

She cleared her throat, and leaned forward in a half-bow. “My name is Fizzy, Miss Tiara, and I’ll be at your service for your stay while in Limbo. Now, if you’ll--”

“Wait, wait. What did you say?”

“Limbo. You know, realm of the soul, the sweet embrace of death. Didn’t Lyra…” She bit her lip when my confusion didn’t budge from my brow. The broom lazily floated up to her face, and turned sideways.

I pursed my lips. “What are you doing?”

Snap! “I swear, if that mare refuses to explain this one more time! One more fucking time! Why, t-that rude bitch has got some nerve lumping work I’m not qualified for on me just because she can’t pretend to stand some clients for even five minutes!” Spit rained from her mouth and her hooves dug grooves into the tabletop.

Fizzy took a wild swing at the desk. An innocent bell got caught by the broom and took to the air! I hit the deck in no time, and the thing splatted across the wall like a water balloon. Not even time for one last ‘ding’.

“It’s bad enough that I have to do this bookkeeping crap all day, oh no! Now I have to have the recently departed grovel at my hooves, punch me in the face, offer sexual favors, pray to Celestia or whatever when I have a fucking line forming behind them. And then THEY get worked up to, and then I have a right fucking riot on my hands. Good thing these bozos don’t know a thoughtform from their own assholes, or I’d have to lay down a back-alley beatdown to restore order.” She threw the two pieces of the broom to the side with a rather childish grunt of disgust.

I stood back up steadily, brushing my chest off. I stepped towards the huffing mare. “So, you got it rough up in here. I get ya, I get ya. You’re saying that I’m…” I swallowed hard. “That I’m dead, basically.” Her eyes, I realized, weren’t quite normal. Lattices, angular irises that lacked any sort of pupil. The largest face of the gems they appeared to be gave her eyes a vague resemblance to a normal pony’s eye. I could tell she was looking at me.

“Hm?” Fizzy straightened her bow and mane while magicking a new bell from behind the desk. “Sorry. I have a short temper, as you can see. That’s what happens when Our Lady takes your ability to hide emotions.”

I gave her the old deapan. She seemed to catch on.

“Right, right. I’m grateful you’re not flipping out on me, by the way.” Another object floated up to the tabletop. About the size of a tea plate, a metal ring. A fancy design filled it in, in the shape of a cross. “It says on your file that you agreed, but knowing Lyra, you don’t know to what. In good conscience, I can’t brand you with this until you know what you’re getting into.”

I hopped backwards. Mine traitorous tail moved to cover my cutie mark, like some loser I used to know. “B-brand?! You’re outta your fucking mind if you think I’m gonna agree to that!”

She sighed. “Look, it’s not an actual brand. It’s a soul mark that gives you the privileges of a Player by replacing your cutie mark, but our PR decided to call it a ‘brand’. I swear, no one can be honest about their services. They think the working pony won’t get it.”

I tuned out her goddess-forsaken whining. “Player? Privileges? And how do I even know if I’m dead?” I took a seat and crossed my arms. “Prove that, while you’re at it. I don’t think sitting here for an hour to listen to this nonsense will be worth my time if it’s all bullshit.”

She scooched the brand closer to me. Admittedly, her little nose scrunch had me jealous. “If your time in the Neverending Halls wasn’t enough proof, then you must be the sort who thinks reality is all just a dream. Those ponies can burn in Tartarus for all I care.”

“I have free will. Even if this isn’t a dream, I can just say ‘no’ all the same.”

Her eyes darkened. Literally, actually. “Retaining the memory of your last moments is a complimentary service of ours. If you’re so eager to remember what it feels like to have your sternum sticking out of your back, then be my guest.”

I swallowed. “F-fine, let’s just say I buy this. What did I agree to, except not really?”

She leaned forward even more, stretching to get in my face as much as possible with that dead-serious facade. My eyebrows shot up at how apparent her ribs were, but her huff pulled my attention away.

“You agreed to play the Game, Diamond Tiara. What Lyra took from you was your entry fee, and those who win the Game are brought back to life.”

Brought back to life. My face blanched. “Are y-you serious?”

“How real did feel, having your most precious thing ripped away?” Fizzy whispered. I looked away from her, tossing my mane to cover my face up a little. “How real did that feel? Lyra’s report says your will to reclaim it was abnormally strong, and assumed that you had agreed.”

Shivers tingled me from neck to tail. “H-how does a pony get a chance at this game? By being good in life? I-I don’t think--”

“There are exceptions, but anyone gets a shot. If you die from age, illness of heritage, or a deep-seated misfortune not curable by undoing the passage of time, then you’re the exception. Of course, you can simply decline and reclaim that precious thing right now, then pass on to Elysium.”

My heart quickened. “I can get my rose back just by asking for it?”

Once again, she moved the brand closer. “You won’t, most likely.”

“H-how do you know?!” I stomped up to the desk and knocked the brand aside before leveling her with my gaze. “Whatever that thing was isn’t worth risking to get back my worthless life!”

Fizzy propped her head on one hoof. “Do you know what the last thing you were doing before died was?”

My jaw clenched. “I… I know.”

“Our Lady has taken only one thing from you, Diamond Tiara,” Fizzy spoke. She held a hoof to her mouth, eyes searching. “It’s almost poetic, really...”

My jaw trembled.

“Your body.”

And that’s all it took. A tear, a small bead of a tear, dripped from the corner of my eye. I wanted to bawl, to scream. A hole formed in my chest, stealing all the air and life from me. I tilted forward, fell into the desk. With my faced pressed on it, it felt almost like another pony. I put both forehooves to the wood, and snuggled it.

I laughed.

“Oh, Fizzy. You don’t know how happy that makes me.

“Of course I agree.”

Day 0: The Game

Fizzy escorted me to the the back room of the lobby. My errant cackling didn’t cease for a good few minutes, but I forced myself out of that dreamy, wonderful state. She didn’t grill me as to why I broke down either, and I avoided remarking on said lack of remarking.

“Now, I know I put the real soul mark back here somewhere. Just bear with me for a minute, okay?”

I stood off in the doorway, watching the mare wave her rump in the air while she rummaged through a bottom drawer. The way she waved around the metal rod didn’t make me very comfortable, after all.

I mean, the moment she took her eyes off her own magic, it seemed to go haywire! Every ring ding and scratch the masterless rod struck out made me that much more nervous. And judging by the state of all the file cabinets back there, it wouldn’t be the last time.

Just as the rod drifted over Fizzy’s head, it pointed straight up. “Aha!”

“Finally,” I droned. “My unlife isn’t getting any shorter, you know.”

Her tail flicked at me.  "You're not allowed to take that tone, Ms. Hysterical." With a good fit of wheezing, she closed up the cabinet and waved the dust away with her hoof. "It's not too often a cutie mark like yours shows up," she said and waved the brand-thingie. "I don't have even the first clue as to how this works, but it do."

"That's very reassuring." My eyes shifted. "I guess I gotta turn around now, right?"

"Only for a moment, yes." She raised an eyebrow at my hesitancy. "I already said that it doesn't hurt, Miss Tiara. If you have an embarrassing scar or something, then it'll probably not be there anymore. Usually."

"I just don't like sticking my butt out," I grumbled.

Fizzy sighed. "Fine. Just turn to your left so I can see what I'm doing."

She began channeling some spell into the thing. I swayed side to side a bit. I needed to talk! "So, uh. Your eyes."

"I'm a twinkle-eye," she said with surprising haste. "My kind died out a thousand years ago, and no one has bothered to even remember us."

My jaw dropped. "Y-you're one thousand years old?"

The rod tapped the ground a few times, sending sparks from the brand into a small shower all around. "About one thousand sixty-eight, actually. I was just twenty six when I died, so that's how I look now."

I flipped my mane, perhaps a little flustered. "That's absurd. Only the Princesses could be that old."

She chuckled and tapped the ground again. "Any pony born before the princesses would technically be older. Just, you know, dead."

I shivered. "Now that I think about it, how come I've never heard of your kind? They didn't even teach us about crystal ponies until their empire returned, so I don't think you're lying." I pointed at her chest. "A-are you related to them?"

Her mouth shifted into a tiny little smile, and she began to level the mark towards my flank. The way her cheek twitched made me sweat. I had to fight my tail to keep it tame.

"Windigoes wiped us out, and your princesses couldn't do anything about it. Why would they celebrate such shame, when ignorance is so much easier?" Something between a choke and chuckle came from her lips. "Believe me, I understand that sentiment. I look to My Lady for strength I don't have anymore. It’s easier to devote myself to her ideals and ignore the past.”

A tear rolled down her cheek. My jaw tensed, but I don’t know why. Something she said…

I yelped! I got so caught up in staring that the brand snuck it’s way to my ass. I broke right, away from the thing. My shoulder rammed one of the cabinets, domino-ing into the next and raising a head-rattling ruckus. Dust clouded the air. Coughs convulsed in my torso for a brief moment, and then.. I blinked.

My flank didn’t even hurt. I grasped at my cutie mark blindly, and not even a bit of irritation flared. Fizzy’s red magic formed into windshield wipers, of all things, and swept most of the dust about her in one smooth motion. Still, the mare wiped her snout good before peeking at me.

“I said it wouldn’t hurt, didn’t I?” she said.

I tried to form words, but I gave it some thought. The magic that jolted through me didn’t really feel like anything. Yet, my muscles went completely haywire, and a pure wall of information overloaded my nerves for a split second. My mind rounded about, trying to find some memory to compare it to, but the poor thing could only dizzy itself in confusion.

I was panting. Slowly, I arched my side to get a look at the damage.

The mark stared back.

A silver, lifeless eye atop a cross, webbed with ornate nonsense. A circle, as the brand suggested, surrounded the cross. It hardly contained the filigree web; lines of silver waved in some invisible current as much as a few inches outside the mark, little fibers. Not unlike how I’d seen germs drawn. I had a feeling Fizzy wouldn’t appreciate the comparison.

A green hoof edged my vision. Fizzy stood over me, a small smile dressing her. Whatever misery draped her seemed to have slid off. I eyed her rather unblemished, bare hoof.

“Consider your contract final, Miss Tiara. You are now a Player in the Game.”

***

They called it Mourner’s Maw. The first room the dead saw in their new unlife, where the ‘kind’ and ‘helpful’ angels on the other side greeted them.

Fizzy was certainly both of those things. Though a little off her rocker, she seemed to take this Lyra’s incompetence in stride and lend me a hoof through this. She told me on the way to the left elevator that ‘Mourner’s Maw’ was the place we aimed to leave behind. A few buttons input, then we waited.

I couldn’t even know where to begin to start.

“So…”

Fizzy’s ear twitched. “Yes, Miss Tiara?”

I huffed. “Stop calling me that. Do I look like I’m wearing a tiara? You even covered up the one of them with this creepy eye thing.”

She didn’t move to acknowledge me, simply stared ahead. “It’s a soul mark, designed by Our Lady.”

My hoof stamped the floor. “That’s a good one. What are you, Fizzy? You must have played the Game like I’m gonna, right? How come you’re still in this place, win or lose?” With mock disgust, I wiped my hoof on my chest. “And who is your lady, or whatever? She ain’t mine, I’ll tell you what.”

The air chilled. Lights, faded. I stepped away from the twinkle-eye, whose body seemed to suck in the life from the room. A faint, black dot pried itself into the air, a dagger through fabric. Another followed, then another! The first, the one my mind fixated on, rent itself even more into the space it occupied, fraying erratically around the edges, almost a flame. As soon as the next dot came to life, the previous rained onto Fizzy from its weight, a blob of vacuous goop. The fiery little spiders edged their way up her body to coalesce around her neck, leaving less than half their little brethren hanging up above.

When the next one dropped, it clinked against the dark ligature. A marble to concrete. The bounce ended near instantly, and the next flames to fall stacked upon one another in the same fashion until they met with the final flame, the six o’clock one.

Fizzy turned to face me. I raised my forelegs, shaky though they were. The mare tested the chain of her collar with a few tugs, side to side. It did nothing to impede her, and followed her motions lethargically.

She cocked her head. “I’m a Reaper, Diamond,” she said oh-so plainly.

The sight of that gross thing around her neck made my stomach twist into itself. “R-R-Reaper?”

“There’s Players.” She raised her left hoof. “And there's Reapers.” She raised the left. “Those are the two beings you’ll meet in the Game. The ones with minds, to be specific.”

No matter where I looked, a pallor dominated the room. A nauseating orange glowed from her leash, so I avoided even glancing past it.

A quaint bell interrupted my thoughts, and Fizzy grinned.

“Oh, this is my favorite part of the job! C’mon Diamond.”

A red cane shimmered into existence right around my torso and dragged me along. “W-Wait, hold on! Just what the fuck are you?” I clawed the carpet in panic, but to no avail. I couldn’t fight her magic. Why why why couldn’t I?!

As if a knob had been slowly turned, color returned to the world. I could see the pink in my coat become more lively, as always. I didn't cease cowering under my forelegs.

"Pfft. Come on, Diamond. Stop acting like a baby. I didn't even do anything scary," Fizzy said, laying the snark on thick. I flicked my tail at her, though she merely giggled. My breath hitched from what I assumed was the elevator departing.

"If a fat stallion bending over to pick up something can be scary, then a freak being freaky can too," I grumbled.

"Touché."

***

Immediately, I felt small.

When the doors opened themselves up, droves of ponies and things filled out the massive chamber. Tall, arched windows lined the opposite wall, letting in a beautiful sunset. A murmur washed over me. Anywhere I looked, ponies spoke in hushed voices to each other. The feel of the gathering felt eerily similar to any I'd ever experienced in life, but the little details on their faces made it hard to swallow.

Some wore hats and ties. Some were young and old, but not children or husks. Some washed, some unwashed.

Some lady curled on the ground. Some comforted the pony beside them.  Some stood at the fringes, pained and angered eyes scaring away intruders.

I bunched my shoulders as we passed.

Glassy eyes followed me. I glanced around. They were the only ones that paid me any mind. Those eyes didn't belong on posh unicorns or beautiful pegasi. They belonged on chilly, homeless colts.

Fizzy came to a sudden halt, halfway to the stage up front that only came into view a minute or so ago. She turned around and stepped close, putting her hoof on my shoulder. "I'll leave you to it from here, Diamond. Just keep calm, and wait til the Game Master takes the stage. It'll be soon, since we were just waiting on you."

My ears rung from the shouting. Not wanting to compound it, I simply nodded.

She kissed me on the forehead and hurried away. I tried my damndest to look into her eyes, but the way she wheeled around thwarted me. I shouted after her. The mess of limbs and tails ahead nixed my motivation to pursue her.

So, I just stared ahead, unblinking.

"What the hell?"

Someone chuckled from my right. "That girl is quite the character."

A familiar shrill in the voice. A griffon! She took a seat next to me before I could protest.

I protested anyways. "Do you mind?" I dropped onto my rump.

She nudged me with her charcoal wing. Not a very common color. "You seemed like you needed company. It's nothing to be ashamed of, as you can see." Her claw waved through the air, a gesture to the pitiful scenes all around. The griffon pointed a claw to a couple not far off, a stallion and a mare. She held his head on her hip and patted his neat mane. I couldn’t really see much more, but it was rather sweet.

“They went together, at least,” I piped up. “Not all of us can say as much.”

My companion knitted her claws, eyes low. “It’s a bit tragic as well. Who should think a moment together could end with death and still imagine it to be a beautiful sight?”

My mind worked up a random inkling. Just a little one. I thought of a waitress at the place I worked, Límon. She came from out of town like I did. A fast talker, hard to converse with as a result. She was still a very hospitable earth pony, and a good friend I spent a lot of time with. I don’t think anything could ever get to her, nor could I imagine it.

Límon was a character of my story, in a way. No one could convince her or her boyfriend to tie the knot. Said it was too ‘formal’ for what they had, an irreplaceable thing at that. Through and through, she was to me how she fronted herself to me. What if she were here? My mind suddenly craved an answer, watching those two off in the crowd. Even my own fate just sated that primordial curiosity for about a day. Funny.

I nearly wretched. The griffon seemed to sense it, and already her claw rest on my shoulder. Her voice was warm, despite the nature of a griffon’s speech. “Don’t wander into thoughts like that. This isn’t the time, nor place, to think like that.”

I gasped. My eye swiveled to glimpse her. Bright green eyes, shiny and lively as much as the next. Her confusion caused me to hesitate, but not for long. “H-how did you know…”

“I can tell, my friend!” She said with a good ‘ol chuckle. “I’m not a mind reader, well, in the most obvious sense. I saw you staring and comparing. Not that hard to figure out.”

There was no way I could let her feel smug about it, so I crossed my arms and looked away.

“I spoke to that couple about an hour ago, actually,” the griffon said, thoughtful.

“So what? Are you just having a ball, going around and being friendly at a bunch of dead ponies? You’re being awfully chill,” I said. My tail twitched. It usually took a lot more to set me off, but her friendliness was just that insufferable. Kid me would get huffy around this point, for comparison.

A beat. “They aren’t a couple,” the griffon spoke. “They don’t even know each other. The colt just happened to look like her son who survived her.”

My next thought hit that wall, and my jaw snapped shut. I held back a yelp when it pincered my tongue, for fear of disturbing some nonexistent monster.

The griffon leaned over and looked into my wide eyes. “The poor boy lost his life in some ill-conceived stunt to impress some friends. He just wants his mommy, you see. Not even maturity’s shame can prevail in Limbo. You have to fight as only yourself, and nothing else, because the next soul you meet will surely be doing the same.”

“D-Don’t we only have to prove ourselves to the Reapers?” My fidgety hoof brushed at my bare neck.

She shook her head, back and forth. Slowly. “The Game is a competition, my friend. To every victory you take, you may stomp the chances of another soul who desired the same thing as you. It’s a bit cruel, to be made to face our tangible worth, is it not?”

The dark griffon’s body hunched deliberately. Her shoulders were a bit high, and her eyes were focused yet. Her drooped wings twitched a bit. I glared at her. “Who are you? There’s no way you’re another Player.”

“H’oh?” She smirked at me. “I’m Eta. And I assure you I am. Not all of us dead people are wrecks like crowd in this room. You certainly aren’t, yourself.”

“I can’t trust you if you’re my enemy, then,” I retorted. “Either way, you can go fuck yourself.”

I took a sharp breath. Was she really getting to me that bad?

This ‘Eta’ grabbed at her wing, and yielded a fresh feather. The black plume twirled in her claws. “You shouldn’t take the attitude with everyone you meet, my friend. The Game isn’t single-player like most of your old arcade games.” With a puff, she sent the feather into the air, over my head. I stepped away from its descent, still keeping my eyes on the griffon. Her eyes followed the feather all the way to the ground, blank. “The Reapers aren’t exactly safe either. It’s all a big stage, and you would do well to remember that. There are heroes, and there are villains. Their ‘Lady’ can change how everything works at whim, after all.”

I’d had enough of her talk. Promptly, I turned away. “You talk like you know something, Eta,” I said over my shoulder. “When I agreed to this game, I intended to do it my way, and that’s what I’m gonna do.”

I began to walk away. After a few steps, it was clear Eta wasn’t going to stop me, and I didn’t look back. For all I knew, I’d see her again out there. Out where, I wasn’t sure.

***

I took to the right wall of the cavernous room. The crowd was unnaturally thin, so I got a lot of space to myself. All these ponies were too nervous to flock like they cared for the usual personal space and distance they’d yearn for in life, yet ponies like myself still remained. I bumped shoulders with a brainy looking unicorn with her mane done up. I got chuckle, imagining she went on her toilet or some other equally dignifying fate.

Fizzy said they were waiting on me, but it had been at least thirty minutes since I got to the damn ball. I hated having to think about the possible lies that griffon said, as well as Fizzy’s wicked chain tying her to some otherworldly being who called the shots in the fucking afterlife. I remember a phase I went through where I was obsessed with Tartarus and grim reapers and shit, and did my mane up black and did my shopping at the local gimp box. At least THAT side of me got some sense of closure.

Horns blared!

I yelped, my heart banging its head on the nostalgia table in the most violent manner. A procession of glaring lights… marched out from either side. I searched for whose hoofsteps those could be through the lights, but they did a good job making that a mystery. The two processions met near the center, seven lights on either side flanking the generous gap. More than likely, the star of the show would take that spot. Maybe a literal star.

The lights dimmed. I blinked frantically to recover, sneaking a peek at the ponies around me doing just the same.

“Good evening, honored guests!” cried out a voice, tinny and feminine. A chill not unfamiliar seized my spine once more. Center stage, a metal horn ripped through the very space itself. The air frayed apart, revealing a velvety purple pulse from the other side. The wound yawned open further, a mouth bearing all its teeth, teeth in the shape of jagged remains.

Two ghostly fires twisted to life on either side of the mouth. They arched up, and I could see the faint outline of the jaw. The hazy specter flared its ethereal wings, casting the sunset through the great windows under a sheet of water to the eye. A movement dragged my eyes back to the mouth.

A hoof! An armored hoof pushed the top of the maw, while another forced the jaw below open even further. The metal blade emerged once more, along with the head it was fastened to. Not even an inch of the pony’s coat showed under all the armor, from the surprisingly slim torso to the flanks flourished with draconian wings. Though her helmet lacked any sort of openings, she took to the stage with grace from the shrinking tear behind her.

A unicorn knight. I recognized the blade on their helmet, at last. They were the stuff of history nerds, last time I checked, but the polish and poise emanating from this one was far from any imitation I had seen. Not to mention the first Reaper I met was a millennia old. I wiped at my eyes, just to make sure. Could she be even older than Equestria?

Thus spake the knight, though far’ from’est’ ye old ‘spaking’. “I welcome you all to my Game, Players. Once again, Our Lady has given me the honor to lead this most interesting of contests. Whether it is a contest of honor, of passion or of cowardice befalls on you, the Player.”

I suddenly noticed the fourteen other knights alongside her. Unlike their leader, their armor literally glowed. Tastefully placed patches of their outfitting glowed a soft, perfect white, and their halberds shimmered a rippling aqua regia. I silently thanked my old best friend for telling me about just enough chemistry.

Equally as faceless as their master, the knights stood vigil even as their commander paced in front of them. “I understand that your exits into our lovely corner of Limbo might have been jarring. Sudden. Shameful, unfair, deliberate. Perhaps the sword that claimed you hung over your head for all your life. Perhaps your earthly anchors are true and just, or perhaps the fear pulled you into our Game.

“No matter the sort you are, you are now playing under my terms. Those who pride themselves of their sweetness, their demure beauty; those who lavish in selfishness or fear conflict and demoan disorder. You are those who are not fit to win in my Game, unless you change your ways.” She paused her steps halfway on her rebound to the center. “The Game is an opportunity, first and foremost. Those worthy of life will take it with all they’ve got, and take the next opportunity after, and the next and the next thereafter. They will make it all mean something.

“I can promise you that no one has bested my Game to this day. I can also promise that those who neared that coveted success were souls of the highest caliber, and were properly rewarded for their conviction.” On cue, the glowing knights stomped twice in unison. “I, Morning Crest, swear on my title, the Knight of the Lady, that no wicked soul shall survive under my light. I shall extend my hoof to those Players who so desire the chance, those who prove their worth.”

My deadpan shifted into more of a frown. This Morning Crust made it sound like there’d be no winner to the Game. I thought knights were supposed to be humble. My fellow Players seemed captivated by her tripe; if she wanted to make an impression, I’d have to begrudgingly call it a success.

“Upon the next sunrise, my Game will formally begin. While sleep is mere luxury to the likes of us in Limbo, you may partake in it until that time comes, or you may wander outside the Highrise, if you so desire."

Crust stepped up to a knight right from the center, my right. "However, you have one imperative goal to meet before I call this Game on. 'Tis a basic rule common to every Game, no matter who the master may be." She placed a hoof on their flank and traced a little circle. They stiffened up just a bit.

"Your soul marks contain a pre-designed spell, a forma, that binds you to another Player. You must choose well your partner in this Game. You must put aside selfishness in lieu of trust, and work to spread the light of the Lady."

A murmur rose from the crowd. Me? I quietly grit my teeth. My ears wanted to hear some form of protest, disgust at this 'Lady', how she and this corpse of a unicorn entitled themselves to us.

The murmur remained dull.

The ghost of her hoof traced itself on me as I watched her pontificate. I had signed my life away of my own will, hadn't I? If I were the Lady, withholding any scraps of dignity would tickle me. If I could get away with that... well, I wouldn't lie to myself.

"And so you understand how to use the forma. Please, make yourselves at home in our humble High Rise for tonight. My Twinkling Sentinels shall soothe any curiosity that burns at you till then, as much still remains for me to do."

Wait, huh? Understand?

My ears pinned to my head when she turned her back to the room. The voices suddenly picked up life. My face burned! I couldn't believe I zoned out on probably the most important lecture if my life. It wasn't any more interesting the the least important one, in hindsight.

The knight made an exit as ridiculous as her entrance, rending open the jaws of the shimmering dragon framing her whole display. One by one, the sentinels turned in step and filed off the stage, armor once again twinkling obnoxiously.

Immediately, I caught a colt moving toward me from the corner of my eye. I kept my ass planted on the ground and put on, rather deepened, my frown. The best one I had. He wheeled around once he got close enough without a word.

So the mingling began. From my spot on the ground, the tops -- not just one -- of the elevators bustled to life. I still had the impression that most souls in here made to immediately find their buddy. I swallowed. Probably ponies who hate taking chances, just like me.

Perhaps, to the old village idiot, this would be the easy part. To me, the thought of spot-interviewing the dead version of a bus stop's lot of ponies and having my life depend on it immediately put me in a grim mood. Having to go up against a fairy tale character known for their sheer insanity didn't simplify my choices.

I was prepping my third evil eye when this melon-green mare trotted up to me. A rather tiny, primped one with a photogenic blonde mane. I can’t stress how shiny that mane was! She squatted to meet my eyes and pursued whenever I tried to look away.

"Hee hee. Why so shy?" she said.

"You sound like a tool if you say a laugh like that."

She giggled for real, even blasted with my best evil eye yet. "You look like a pretty tough mare, I must admit. I wouldn't mind calling you a partner for this Game craziness."

I snorted and leaned back against the wall. "I don't think your back could handle carrying to the two of us, green bean, so I'm not so sure I feel the same."

Green Bean tittered behind a hoof. “Now, now. With your gloomy aura stinking you up, you’ll end up all alone in no time. The Reapers never said if there’s an odd or even number of dead people, did they?”

A bead of sweat ran behind my ear, but, surprisingly, the nervousness I felt wasn’t so strong. “What’s your point?”

She chuckled. I swear, she may as well have traded all the punctuation in her sentences with laughs. Both of her forehooves tapped together in an errant rhythm. Her shoulders relaxed, where before they were actually tense. “Well… my darling brother told me to find a partner that wasn’t him. I was so distressed at the mere thought! However, when I saw your face, I felt like I’d be in good hooves,” Green Bean said warmly. “Even if I have to call myself your humble servant, if that’s what it’d take.”

I sputtered. “I think we’re getting a little ahead of ourselves. So, you said you were a cooky earth pony who probably has no friends?”

“I’m a crystal pony,” she pouted. I was sorta glad that she didn’t get offended by anything else I said.

“That explains a little bit.” I gave her a once over, to which she took notice and blushed. She wasn’t going to win any physical contests any time soon, and she seemed pretty melodramatic. Even the afterlife has limits there. Green Bean’s hooves glistened with sheer perfection, and her coat shimmered without blemish or tousle. So, I had to wonder how exactly appearances worked in Limbo. I’m sure the Diamond in my heart looked as good as she did, tenfold, yet my hooves and coat were merely… average, like when I was alive. If we were stuck with our crummy mortal limitations, would the Game be fair?

Then again, it was a real possibility that this Game didn’t work like the land of the living did. Maybe ponies like Green Bean were the cream of the crop, where thick, dull brutes failed. Maybe this was a test like in school, where you had to solve mysteries, or some shit. I hummed to myself in a stilted manner.

Stock still did Green Bean remain, and her cheeks burned more and more. Seeing her being so shy about a stranger staring threw me for a loop. Could I actually count on a pony like her? No, I couldn’t.

I shivered. Perhaps I could use her as a guinea pig. I myself was a strong mare, physically and mentally, where Green Bean seemed like the exact opposite. What were the odds that the Game favored ponies like her? If they didn’t, I could just leave her.

I plastered on a smile. “I think I’ll take you on, Green Bean.”

Her ears perked. “R-R-Really? Do you mean that?” She bounced between her hooves. “You’d actually partner with me?”

“Might as well take someone now, you know? Maybe we can get to know each other, get more up close and personal…  think of strategies or something before the Game even starts.” I rubbed the back of my head. “W-Well, as much as we can about a Game we know nothing about.”

Beanie’s eyes widened with every other word I spoke, she leaned closer and closer. I cleared my throat right before she came into hugging distance, so she backed off. “Hmph. I did some sleuthing, I’ll have you know. Some ‘Light Heart’ escorted me and my brother, and she told us a lot of stuff.”

I ‘oohed’ at her. “Who knew I picked such a juicy berry? How about sharing then, partner.”

Her fading blush flared back into full force. The mare reared back, eyes searching for some form of escape. Something caught her eye. “H-Hey! Why don’t we go down to the lobby and get some air? We can talk where none of these chumps can hear, eh?”

Before I could voice an answer, an invisible force seized my torso. The floor beneath only our hooves iced over, then Beanie hopped forth, one foreleg stretched out. The trail sped a length ahead of her on her way. The force dragged me along with little resistance, perfectly matching her trail. My partner took hairpin turns and weaved between the thinned crowd. I didn’t have it in me for surprised gasps, so the ponies Beanie skated around did it for me. It took enough focus to stay on my hooves, rough hooves poor for impromptu ice skating.

With her next sudden turn, we headed straight for a clump of ponies. It didn’t register fast enough; the ice trail lifted off the ground and over the shocked onlookers. My heart pogo’d from my stomach to throat, up and down we went.

I squinted my eyes, fighting the urge to shut them entirely. Beanie did the stunt once more, this time over a… a dragon! A small dragon! Sleeping on the floor! I whipped my head back to get an actually look, but the force over me pulled me behind a column.

Before I knew it, the elevators came into view.

“Hey!” I cried out. They weren’t automatic, last time I checked.

Not missing a beat, Beanie swiped her foreleg against the ground, lancing a shard of ice through the air. It hit the button dead on. Quick, Beanie bunched her shoulders and just made it between the doors. I did the same. My forehooves thudded against the un-iced carpet upon entry. The world turned upside down for a moment, then my back slammed into the wall of the elevator.

I braced for a fall straight on my head. It didn’t come; Beanie’s hold set me down gently on my rump, but I still clenched my eyes shut.

With a fit of coughing, Beanie gasped at me. “I’m sorry! I thought I could stick your landing. I’m so so so--”

My hoof silenced her. The edge wedged her mouth open a little, so I got a little tongue. The fur on my neck bristled, but the sensation was easy to ignore. “I ain’t mad, Green Bean. I may not look it, but I’m a mare who appreciates a good joy ride.”

She blinked twice.

I pulled my hoof away then polished it on the carpet. “If anything, I’m grateful you pulled this little stunt. Hell of a lot better than just explaining how things work around here.” Another pair of ponies entered the elevator, whispering among themselves. They took the honor of setting it to the ground floor, so I turned my attention back on the blushing filly before me. “So how can a crystal pony use magic here, Green Bean?”

She cocked her head. “My name is Winter Berry, first of all. ‘Green Bean’ was cute the first time, but I have a little dignity.”

“Right. I’m Diamond.” I stepped to the right to get a look see of her cutie mark; indeed, three crystalline berries hung from a gold vine. Her tail flicked to the side weakly.

“Second: it’s not actually magic.” In the frog of her outstretched hoof, a swirl of icy mist formed. The shape shifted, from a ball, to a cube. From a cube, to a pony, a detailed one at that. I couldn’t help but lean in closer. Berry smirked, and the mist shifted to a reflection of my face, all three-dimensional.

“The Reapers called it a forma, like our soul marks, but I just think of it as spells, like we’re all used to. Light Heart said it was all the imagination and strength of your mind given a form you could use.” She flicked that hoof, and the mist dispersed. I shook my head, having gone nearly cross-eyed while watching. “The Game is a contest of strength, yes, but it’s nothing you could just see in a pony with your naked eye. Fortunately, I’ve always been a good judge of character, so I came to you.” An airy giggle punctuated that statement. Berry seemed so calm, all of a sudden. Was she so confident in a complete stranger? I’d seen the sort in my life: ponies who cling to the first they see. Like old friends...

I was ready to ditch her earlier. In a way, I still could and not feel a shred of regret the moment I did it. Bile burned my throat anyways. This wasn’t the time to have a heart; not a chance. She wasn’t like Límon. She was a filler character, nothing more. We’d go our separate ways, win or lose. There was no getting around that. One of us wouldn’t matter. I didn’t need more weight holding me back!

 As a show of good faith, I smiled at Berry. “Your little stunt was like something out of a comic book! You just did it like it was nothing, too! I think my natural charisma may have saved my skin in the end.”

With a huff, Berry brushed back her mane and gave me the snootiest pout she could. “Nay, Diamond. It’s just the beginning. The beginning of the end’s ending, in other words.”

That nugget of nonsense ran a few laps in my mind. The end’s ending.

Sounded about right.

The bell sounded off. As the doors slip open, the blinding light from the lobby yawned onto the floor, reaching for the wall. Our first step was toward the sun, I thought. No matter what, every step was to reach it, close as we could. A real pretty way to look at it. I nudged Berry and narrowed my eyes at her. She nodded to me.

A wave of sensation emanated from my hip as I stared into her eyes. I glanced to her own mark. A blue circle filled the once blank panel, a dazzling image. That was it. We were stuck together.

I took a deep breath. “So, you gonna show me a thing or two?”

Day 1: Birds of Fire

Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter.

Day 1: Circadian Rhythm

Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter.

Day 1: Demons

Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter.

Day 1: Closed Doors

Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter.