Chapter Two, Which is mostly about the type of ponies you can meet at funerals
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Rainbow's Friend

Chapter Two, Which is mostly about the type of ponies you can meet at funerals

Chapter Two; Which is mostly about the type of ponies you can meet at funerals

There are many things one can often see in Ponyville, funerals are not one of these things.

The old graveyard just outside of the town’s limits rarely ever saw any publicity with the exception of a few ponies that dropped by every now and again to pay their respects to lost loved ones. Even the small group of six or seven ponies gathered there to say farewell to the newest addition to the rows of corpses had been more than the little cemetery had seen in years. It might have even been enough ponies for a party had the right host been there, instead of that boring old minister that was leading the group through the ceremony.

Upon arriving at the cemetery with saddlebags full of fake bones and bed sheets ghost costume, two mares were greeted by a morbid sight.

“You know Pinky, I don’t think today’s the best day for pranking.” The one said looking to her friend.

“Aww, why not?” the other whined, “Just look at all those ponies we can scare.” She continued pointing her hoof out toward the assembly of mourning ponies.

“We should probably leave them alone. They probably don’t want to be pranked right now.” Rainbow Dash replied.

“Well why else would they have a party in a spooky old cemetery if they didn’t want somepony to scare them?” Pinky Pie asked, confused by Dash’s logic. She pondered on the thought for a moment then continued. “They don’t seem to be having very much fun… This seems like a job for Pinky Pie, party planer extraordinaire.” Pinky then ran over to the “party” before Rainbow Dash even had time to protest.

When she reached the crowd, Pinky Pie was greeted by the one pony that didn’t look completely miserable. He was a lean grey earth pony stallion with a dark mane that was swept back over the top of his head. He had a shabby white cloth wrapped around his flank and much of his hind legs. He welcomed Pinky Pie with the type of forced smiles one would expect to find on a used car salesman. “Nice to see you could make it” he said.

“I wouldn’t miss a party for the world” Pinkie replied giving him a delightful smile of her own.

He chuckled briefly realizing the mare probably was not a formal guest at the funeral and said “Well I must apologize Miss, but I don’t believe this is the type of party you would be used to, but you’re welcome to stay regardless.”

By this time Rainbow dash had made her way over to her friend. “Come on Pinkie, let’s get out of here” she urged the pink pony, but with little success.

“Why such the rush?” the stallion asked.

“Well we don’t want to well… interrupt” Dash said, although her retaliation was useless as her counterpart was already prancing about trying to make for a more “lively” celebration.

The stallion smirked at the futile attempts by Pinky to cheer the other ponies up. Looking back to Rainbow Dash he said “It seems your friend wants to stay, you wouldn’t want to leave her alone now would you?”

Rainbow Dash just sighed, “If you want us to stay so much would you mind at least telling me whose funeral I’m attending?”

“This would be the funeral of a miss Lyra Heartstrings, and I am In Finem. I’m Lyra’s, well… let’s just say I was a close friend of hers.” He thought for a moment then continued. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance Miss…”

“It’s Rainbow Dash, and what kind of a name is In Fanim anyway?”

“Finem, In Finem” he corrected her “and it’s Latin.”

“Hey, wasn’t Lyra that street musician from town?” Dash asked.

“I’m sure she was, I’m not really from around here you see.”

The two talked a little while longer until Pinky finally gave cheering ponies up a break and came over to see what the two ponies that weren’t too depressed had to say. She sat next to her friend for a few minutes listening to In Finem and Rainbow Dash talk about Lyra. What really caught the attention of both friends was the fact that the body was never actually found, even though search parties had been looking for months. All that was ever recovered of the lost pony was a broken off minty green horn and a mangled lyre which both were found floating up onto the bank of a stream flowing out of Everfree.

The whole place fell silent as a metallic coffin containing the two recovered items was carried through the crowd. Even the light tan mare with the candy like mane that had been sobbing the whole time held her cries to watch four morgue workers lower the box into the freshly dug grave. The same song that Dash had heard going home the other day after the Wonderbolt show was being played by a small orchestra off to the side of the funeral. In Finem had said it was a composition written by Lyra herself, a project she had been particularly proud of in life.

The coffin hit the dirt at the bottom of the pit with a subtle ‘thud’, shaking some of the loose earth on the walls of the grave free. The tan pony in the front of the group began to cry again as her friends tried to comfort her. The minister said a few things and ended the service as quickly as he could so he could finally go home after a long day’s work. Shortly after, the group began to disperse and go home themselves.

Eventually In Finem spoke up “Well it certainly has been a pleasure talking with you Miss Dash, but I’m afraid you must excuse me, you see, I have a box to bury.” He said grabbing a shovel that had been resting against a tombstone in his mouth. As he trotted toward a pile of loose dirt next to the hole in the ground a disturbing smile began to form on the corners of his lips.

Pinky tapped dash on the shoulder and spoke up “Come on Dashie, let’s get out of here.” The pink pony’s usually curly mane had started to go flat and her normal bubbly expression had disappeared. “I don’t like funerals very much” she said.

Rainbow Dash looked back at the stallion who she had been talking with. She tried not to show it, but she found his lack of sorrow and even more, his smug contentment, unsettling. She didn’t hesitate to follow Pinky Pie out of the cemetery and back to town where they could get something to fill their stomachs.

In Finem had volunteered to fill the grave once he heard he had the opportunity to. It had been a way of saying goodbye for the last time to Lyra in his eyes. Nopony protested to this mostly because nopony wanted to pay a gravedigger to do the job for him, those jobs can be expensive when business is as slow as it is digging graves.

It didn’t even take In Finem fifteen minutes to fill the grave with fresh earth in his excitement. Upon placing the last few shovel loads of dirt into their proper position, he let out a long satisfied sigh. He patted the fresh earth with the end of his shovel, proud of the job he had done. In Finem took in the scene for a minute, and then tapped the grey headstone overlooking the fresh grave. It read;

Here lies
Lyra Heartstrings
A prospect in life,
And an inspiration in death

The simplicity of the inscription made In Finem chuckle, although he knew it was complete bull. Lyra had never been anything close to a prospect and the only thing she ever inspired was the local term for “strange obsessions”. None the less; Bon Bon had specifically ordered the inscription to be worded that way precisely. Sometimes Bon Bon’s love for the unicorn could blur her vision from the truth, or so In Finem thought.

Thinking about Bon Bon, he began to wonder where the mare had gotten off to. After looking around he spotted her a few grave rows over weeping into the dirt. Walking over to her, he thought of what would be best to say to a pony that had lost the love of their life and didn’t even have a body to burry. He decided on nothing, so, he just sat next to her leaning against an old faded tombstone waiting for Bon Bon to speak first.

“Why did she have to go so young?” she eventually asked him through her barely controllable sobs.

In Finem wanted to scoff at the question but he knew better, so instead he said “The world works in strange ways, but I’m sure she’s happy now, wherever she is.” He then put his hoof around Bon Bon and patted her back while he led her out of the cemetery. Upon reaching the rusted gates of the cast iron fence outlining the grounds, In Finem looked back to the freshly dug grave and smiled. He always was the type of stallion that took a certain amount of pride in his work, even if other ponies didn’t always look at his efforts the same way.