Old Broomstick opened his eyes and was surprised to find that he was no longer where he had been, but was now lying on brightly sunlit, tender grass in what appeared to be a meadow. Wild flowers filled most of it. A gentle breeze blew in through the trees, causing the leaves to whisper soothingly and which made the vast field of flowers flow softly like the waves of a calm sea.
A moment before, he’d been slowly tottering along down Ponyville’s main road on his way to his latest task—to clean up the trash and remnants in a park in which Pinkie Pie had thrown a party the day before. That party had gone on into the small hours of the morning, much to the delight of the partygoers, happy and welcome crashers, and those who had simply straggled in when they were attracted by the merry, loud music and the jovial, shouting laughter of those who were already there.
Now, however, Broomstick was in this meadow, but why? Why was he suddenly in a peaceful and beautiful meadow, where the air quietly sounded only with the sigh of the breeze in the trees, the songs of birds, and the buzzing of insects? He had no idea.
He tried to stand, but found his legs too weak to lift him. Struggle as he might, he tried time and again to rise, only to plop back down on the cool grass.
“It takes a moment,” came a sweet and kindly voice from his left.
He turned his old, bleary eyes to his left to see the unfocussed form of a tall, graceful pony. She was a bright, faintly glimmering white. Her mane shimmered and rippled in muted, multihued tones. Upon her head rested the indistinct shape of a golden crown and upon her flanks was what appeared to Old Broomstick to be the shape of a golden sun, but, his vision being blurred, he wasn’t entirely sure. Still, he knew very well that the pony who stood next to him now was none other than Princess Celestia, the Princess he’d spent his long life praying to, worshipping, and adoring with all of his heart.
“Your… Highness?” he asked in a weak and trembling voice. “Where am I? What is this place?”
“You have loved many in your long life, Broomstick, and have helped many more,” she said, her voice gentle and loving. “You have often prayed that I would bring you to a place like this, a place of peace and serenity, and so I’ve come to answer your prayers.”
A smile of astonished delight slowly spread across the old stallion’s lips and, as he watched, his vision cleared, and he felt his legs grow stronger. Again, he tried to rise, and this time succeeded. On his hooves now, he bowed deeply to his beloved Princess, showing his respect.
Celestia smiled. “Come!” she said. “It’s time to go.” She turned and headed toward a narrow, dirt path that wound off into a cool and shaded wood.
Old Broomstick hesitated, staring at the Princess for a moment. She paused and looked back over her shoulder with an expression that beckoned him to follow. Smiling, Old Broomstick followed, but then hesitated again, astonished to find that his old legs didn’t feel so old anymore. In fact, they felt as if they were regaining the strength he had known when he had been a much younger stallion. Beaming brightly with this new sense of vigor, he happily trailed along behind Princess Celestia.
“If you’ll pardon my asking, Your Highness, to what do I owe the honor of your presence before this, your humble servant, and, if it’s not too bold of me to ask, what is this place?” Broomstick asked.
Celestia said nothing, but turned and smiled at him as they continued onward. Her eyes twinkled, and the smile on her face suggested that of a child about to reveal a sweet surprise to a close and dear friend. Intrigued, Broomstick followed silently and waited.
Before long, the path brought them to the top of a long hill that shallowly descended into a beautifully lush, green, and sweetly sunlit valley. Soon after, Celestia, with Broomstick right behind, reached the bottom of the downward trail, which Broomstick discovered took them into what looked like a village. Yes, it was a village, but none like he had ever seen before.
Just then, he was struck by a realization. He hadn’t seen the village from when they were at the top of the hill, only now as they entered it.
As they entered the village square, Celestia stopped and turned to look at Broomstick. She smiled. “And here we are, in the place where you’ve always wanted to be, dear, sweet, and devoted servant,” she said, her warm and gentle voice brimming with love.
As Broomstick watched, the doors of the cottages that surrounded the square opened and happy, smiling ponies of all ages stepped out to join them.
“Who… who are these ponies?” asked Broomstick, not recognizing a single face.
“Again, it will take a moment, but you will know soon enough,” Celestia assured him, the many ponies continuing slowly toward them.
The formerly vague and unfamiliar faces took on distinct familiarity as Broomstick watched them draw close to him. His astonishment was boundless as he began to recognize his mother and father, his grandparents, cousins, and many others whom he didn’t recognize but bore a family resemblance to nonetheless.
“These… these are all of my family and relatives who have crossed over the Rainbow Bridge!” he gasped.
“Yes, they are,” said Celestia sweetly, “and now you’re home, back with your beloved family and relatives once again, dear Broomstick.” Still smiling, Princess Celestia spread her broad, powerful wings and flew away into the distance as Broomstick’s relatives and ancestors gathered around him, hugging him, bidding him welcome home.
Broomstick romped and played happily with his brothers and cousins, as joyous as any young colt. He laughed and smiled, thrilled to be back among those whom he’d lost so many years before when they had crossed over the Rainbow Bridge. Just as he had prayed all those years to his beloved Princess Celestia, his prayers were answered and he was finally home.
* * *
“I-I don’ know what happened!” cried a shocked and deeply disturbed Applejack to an equally upset Twilight Sparkle as the rest of the Council of Friendship and several other townsponies gathered near, gazing upon the limp and lifeless form of Old Broomstick lying dead on the road. “I was jus’ talkin’ ta him an’ he jus’ fell over!”
“It must have been a heart attack,” said Twilight, checking for a pulse and finding none. “At least, that’s what I think it was.”
“He was such a good, old pony,” sobbed Fluttershy sadly, tears welling in her eyes. “He always helped everyone, never turned anyone away.”
“Well, he was pretty old,” sighed Applejack, doffing her hat. “I s’ppose it was jus’ his time.”
