Chapters Because I Could not Stop for Death
Since then – ‘tis Centuries – and yet Feels shorter than the Day I first surmised the Horses’ Heads Were toward Eternity — Emily Dickinson
Zecora had only walked a few paces when she stumbled over a saddle bag bearing Solar Gleam’s cutie mark. She peered at the ground, bent down and slipped her head and neck through the strap.
The small grey unicorn guiding her into the dark stopped and turned around, the bluish-white glow from his horn casting sharp shadows around Zecora’s feet. He stared intently at the shadows for a moment, then pointed to the bag.
“Ooh--something new! We mostly just get bits and pieces of rock and bone and whatnot pulled through the Rift; don’t see a whole thing make it through in one piece! Is it yours?”
Zecora furrowed her brow and cleared her throat, but no sound escaped. She shook her head.
The colt smiled: “Well I guess it’s yours now! When we make it back to the the Compound you’ll have better light than just my poor horn, and a place to set your things down. You look tired.”
Zecora sighed and nodded and thumped her chest with a hoof. She coughed a bit and tried again to speak, but to no avail. She frowned and shrugged at the colt.
The young unicorn smiled again: “Not to worry, talk when you can. I have forever and a day--I’m patient!”
Zecora and her guide walked along for several minutes, passing the dark outlines of unseen objects and structures, just beyond the range of the unicorn’s illumination.
After several minutes Zecora began to make out the outlines of a walled compound, lying next to a wide, reed-lined stream. A narrow bridge spanned the stream, and between the far bank and the compound wall, she could just make out jumbled, uneven rows of grave stones and markers.
She raised an eyebrow and pointed at the graves.
The colt looked at the stones and markers and shrugged: “Most of the creatures who dwell here feel some need to mark their passing. Nopony here has a body, so the graves are just for show.”
Zecora furrowed her brow and thumped her chest again.
The colt nodded: “Yeah, I see it, but I’ve seen other ponies and whatnot come through the rift lookin’ like they had a proper body, too. We’ll ask old Gil when we get inside--he has the best sense of these things.”
Zecora glared, but followed her escort over the bridge, pausing to look down into the swirling, indigo-tinted waters. She turned back toward the stream after crossing, and walked to the water’s edge, reaching out with a hoof.
The colt cut in front of her: “Oh, I wouldn’t do that just yet! You might want to keep your wits about you for a time!”
Zecora furrowed her brow and backed away from the stream, turning away as the colt trotted toward the compound’s gate: “Come on--Gil will be very interested to meet you!”
The two approached the compound wall, and Zecora was finally able to get a good look at it in the gloom. It was roughly five yards tall, and seemed to have been cobbled together from a variety of giant bones, scraps of metal, and slabs of stone.
The unicorn colt stepped up to a low entryway and tipped his head down as his horn glowed a pale green. The weathered piece of ship’s decking blocking the entrance slid upward, allowing Zecora to duck underneath and pass inside. Her eyes adjusted quickly to the brighter conditions within, and she looked about in wonder.
Spread across a blue-green sward was a hodgepodge of lean-tos, tents, shacks and cabins, constructed of everything from more driftwood to animal hides to unidentifiable metal fragments, to fractured panels of what appeared to be iridescent glass. A variety of trees and tall plants dotted the compound; many were familiar to Zecora, but some were clearly otherworldly.
The colt guided Zecora to the door of a hut, crafted of some kind of reptilian hide stretched over a framework of bones and metal struts. He rapped his hoof against the entrance and stuck his muzzle inside a bit: “Are you here, Gil?”
There was a scraping sound and the door swung inward on crude hinges. A decrepit, semi-translucent rust-colored unicorn with a tattered white mane and mountain peak cutie mark shuffled aside and bowed: “Please enter my humble abode.”
Zecora followed her guide inside and looked around at the collection of strange metal scraps, books, parchment fragments and unidentifiable knick-knacks arranged along various shelves and tables.
The colt pointed to Zecora: “I just found her now as the Rift was closing. Pulled that saddlebag in, too.”
Gil rubbed his tongue along his teeth and nodded: “So my sense was right--the Vacuum pulled in another poor spirit. It’s been a busy few weeks…”
He pointed to a large cushion next to a hovering, glowing orb: “Please, take a seat. Let’s get to know each other a little better before you’re found out. What’s your name?”
Zecora furrowed her brow and cleared her throat as she tapped the top of her breastbone lightly with a hoof: “My friends call me Zecora / and I live in Everfree / I’ve skills with beasts and flora / and...and…”
Gil tipped his head and raised an eyebrow as the zebra’s voice tailed off, and she sat in confused silence: “Zecora, is it? I think I’ve only ever seen one other zebra here in the Vacuum.”
Zecora began breathing heavily and licking her lips: “I--I don’t know what’s happened to my voice…”
“Your voice? I don’t understand--your voice sounds perfectly pleasant to me, although that little rhyming couplet was a bit odd.”
Zecora closed her eyes tight and took a deep breath: “That’s the way I always talk!”
“Really? Always?”
“Yes--ever since I was a little filly. I don’t think I can even remember a time I didn’t speak in verse and rhyme!”
“Well, that was close just then.”
Zecora bit her lip: “I can’t recall a single time / I didn’t speak in verse and rhyme!”
Gil nodded: “There you go!”
“Yes, but--but I had to think about it, I had to run the words through my head and force then into the proper pattern. What’s wrong with me?”
“Well, you are dead, that tends to change a pony.”
“I am not dead! I can feel my heart beating!”
Gil smiled indulgently: “I, too could feel my heart’s phantom rhythm for quite some time--years, really. I finally accepted my death about the same time I accepted my unreality.”
Zecora stood, agitated: “No! It’s not a phantom heartbeat! I can--”
The colt pointed to the floor beside her: “She does cast a shadow, Gil.”
Gil furrowed his brow and walked up close to Zecora. He swept his eyes across her form from muzzle to flank, and down to the floor. He stepped back and rubbed his chin for a moment.
“She does indeed appear to cast a true shadow. I’ve never seen a being here in the Vacuum cast a shadow.”
Zecora sat back down with a sour expression: “I told you!”
The ragged, translucent unicorn stepped closer again and peered at her face and chest: “Are you injured? Perhaps you’re dying, and are in a transitional state. I have seen that a time or two…”
Zecora looked down: “This? No, this is not my blood. It belongs to my friend. She was using powerful dark magic in an attempt to seal and contain the Void after I was pulled inside.”
“The Void?”
“That is what we call this creation you seem to refer to as the Vacuum.”
“Ah, not a bad name for it. As for this friend of yours--I assume she is a powerful wizard.”
“She’s actually quite young. She became an alicorn Princess only two years ago, and has gained some skill in dark magic in recent years.”
“‘Some skill?’ It must be more than that! This Void, as you call it, has required all of Grey Thorn’s power and cunning for centuries!”
“Well, she is also imbued with Death’s power, and has been wielding it as well, in the role of Harbinger.”
Gil’s eyebrows shot up: “Wait, what? She is a living being, wielding Death’s power?”
“Yes, and that, in combination with her dark, blood magic was enough to finally seal off the Void.”
Gil sat down: “Interesting. Another tried something similar, based on my young friend’s report. A unicorn preceded you by only a few minutes.”
Zecora nodded sadly: “Yes. Solar Gleam and I were working in unison, trying to seal the breach and constrain the Void. He tapped directly into it and was drained from his body.”
“And was immediately seized by the Sentinel; I am sure he’s already in the Swamp. Many who are drawn in may linger and evade for a time, but in this case, your friend must have made direct contact with the Sentinel.”
“The Swamp?”
“That is what we call the heart of this place where the Sentinel makes its home. It's where it consumes a being’s essence.”
Zecora furrowed her brow: “Well then, who dwells here?”
“The vast majority of those here are mere shades, devoid of any essence or spirit. Think of them as animated images; most do not even have a true consciousness anymore.”
“How awful!”
Gil nodded: “Yes--I rather imagine this is what Tartarus is like.”
Zecora looked pointedly at her host: “You seem to have an engaging consciousness--how can this be?”
The haggard pony leaned back: “I believe I have the honor of having been this place’s first fully-aware, living pony victim. I was pulled in before Grey Thorn had completed and matured it.”
He stared up at the ceiling: “It was still quite powerful, but raw and not-entirely tested. I was able to shield a part of myself, a piece of my spirit. I hastily cobbled together a defensible ‘blind spot’ and took shelter.”
“This compound.”
Gil nodded: “Though of course, at first it was merely a shack. I discovered that certain materials of an alien nature had the ability to shield or screen--at least a little.”
He stood and walked to a shelf of metallic and glassy bits: “I was able to use this material in conjunction with what little essence and magic I had left to create a defensible space.”
The unicorn colt pointed out a small window: “And the Swamp wasn’t complete yet!”
“That too. The Sentinel hadn’t truly taken root yet, and what we now call the Swamp, where it does its work, had yet to take shape. I was able to settle-in before the Vacuum and Sentinel were perfected and fully-harnessed by Grey Thorn.”
“And others have joined you?”
“Yes. Over the centuries this compound has grown, little-by-little, as other beings--unicorns, mostly--have eluded the worst of the Sentinel’s depredations.”
“Could you fight the Sentinel? I mean as a collective?”
Gil shook his head sadly: “No. We do not have that much power; it takes everything we have just to stay hidden. And even then, eventually we all succumb and simply fade away, becoming yet another empty shade.”
“Why?”
“Even without the direct action of the Sentinel, the very nature of the Vacuum is draining. It’s just that the Sentinel and Swamp are far more rapid and efficient.”
“How have you lasted, then?”
Gil sighed heavily: “I don’t really know. I suppose I simply have more natural tenacity than most. Everypony else eventually fatigues and falters and fades. Maybe it has to do with me being first--perhaps I have an unknown connection.”
Zecora nodded: “And perhaps you’ve stayed intact this long in order to help me!”
Gil smiled: “I am no believer in fate, but I believe even less in coincidence. You may be onto something. Unfortunately, I’m not really sure how I can help you.”
Zecora smiled back: “You can help me find a way out of here, back to the outside world.”
Gil’s smile softened and turned into a frown: “There is no way out, Zecora. I fear your days here will be most unpleasant until your mortal body dies from lack of food and water. Then you will join us here in the compound.”
Zecora set her jaw and reached for her bags: “I refuse to accept that! Surely between your knowledge and wisdom, and the materials I have in my and Solar Gleam’s bags, we should be able to devise some plan. I can’t just sit here and wait to die!”
The ghostly unicorn sighed and slumped onto a low bench next to Zecora: “I admire your fire, but I assure you it’s all quite hopeless. Many spirits over the centuries have probed and explored and finally failed.”
Zecora emptied out her bag and Solar’s on the floor in front of her: “Yes, but I am entirely in possession of my spirit, and have supplies as well!”
She began arranging her various powders and vials and compounds as Gil’s companion looked over her shoulder: “Also, your world has been badly weakened and fractured over the last few weeks. It is not the same Vacuum you knew.”
The colt looked up from the floor and nodded: “She’s right! We’ve never seen anything like these last attacks through the Rift!”
Gil licked his lips: “True. If everything you’ve reported to me is correct, then maybe things have changed enough to try again.”
Zecora raised an eyebrow: “Again?”
“I attempted to escape not long after Grey Thorn completed the Vacuum, and before the Sentinel and Swamp were entirely established.”
“How close did you get?”
“I don’t really know--I didn’t truly understand how this place works, and in the intervening centuries, its layout--its geography, if you will--has changed and shifted.”
He leaned forward and examined Zecora’s supplies, including some food and a pair of water bottles: “In fact, if it weren’t for my little friend, here, I wouldn’t really know much of anything, anymore. I haven't left this compound in at least four centuries. He is my eyes and ears.”
The colt smiled and looked with curiosity at several vials.
Zecora paused in her stock-taking and peered at the colt: “So he’s free to roam?”
Gil nodded: “By and large, yes.”
The zebra raised a blood-matted eyebrow: “How can that be? Why hasn’t he been fully absorbed and reduced to a shade?”
Gil furrowed his brow for a moment, then his expression cleared: “Of course--he’s dwelt with me for so long that I don’t even give it a second thought! Naturally you don’t understand; how rude of me!”
He tipped his horn toward the now-grinning colt: “Zecora, allow me to introduce Bramble!”
Because I Could not Stop for Death
“Bramble?! But--but that means he’s Grey Thorn! I’ve read Twilight and Celestia’s notes!”
Gil smiled: “You are correct. He is, indeed, Grey Thorn--in a way.”
Zecora raised an eyebrow as she eyed Bramble warily: “What do you mean, ‘in a way?’”
Gil closed his eyes and sucked against his teeth: “This place is sustained and powered by the life essences of its victims, yes?”
Zecora nodded.
“Well, like many an old wizard or alchemist, Grey Thorn was a firm believer in using himself as a test subject.”
“So he used his own essence to create this thing?”
“Again: in a way. Let me take you back to the final creation of the Vacuum; make yourself comfortable.”
Gil nodded at the glowing orb, which dimmed to a pale, reddish, ember-like glow. He sat on a cushion adjacent to Zecora and tipped his horn up above their line-of-site; an image flickered into view.
A thirtysomething grey unicorn with a twisted brier cutie mark stepped into the scene, joined by a somewhat-younger Gil. They stood in Starswirl’s hidden library before a table made of a translucent, shimmering greenish stone.
Gil pointed at the unicorns: “That one on the left is Grey Thorn; the other one is obviously me.”
Zecora furrowed her brow and opened her mouth to speak; Gil cut her off: “I know, how can this scene be? Shouldn’t this be from my perspective?”
“Yes.”
Gil smiled: “Have you experienced dreams where you’re outside yourself?”
“Of course.”
“Think of this like that. This place shares many features with the dreamscape, and over the centuries I have re-imagined my entire store of memories in third-pony perspective.”
“Why?”
Gil shrugged: “To see things from a different angle--both literal and metaphorical, to challenge my own memory and interpretation of those recollections, and sometimes, just due to plain old boredom.”
Zecora smiled: “I can understand that. If I were trapped in a library for centuries I would grow weary of rereading the same books over and over. I might wish to retell or recast the stories.”
“Exactly! Now back to our particular tale…”
The scene resumed with Grey Thorn tapping at a set of plans: “So you can get the others to help? Especially Dark Iron?”
Young Gil nodded: “Yes--he needs to disappear for a bit, anyway, and I know whatever Iron does Hotspark’s going to want in on.”
Zecora furrowed her brow: “Dark Iron?”
Gil sighed: “Do you know your pre-Canterlot unicorn history?”
“I know there were clan wars. Again, I’ve read Twilight’s notes and spoken some with Celestia.”
“Right, well a bit over a thousand years ago, those had largely ended, and Celestia was intent on building her new city in the heart of the contested area, in an effort to quell further troubles--though jealousies and tensions remained.”
“Canterlot.”
“Correct. And many disaffected unicorns or those whose families had fallen low were attracted to the promise of a new start in an unaligned place.”
“But it didn’t quite work that way.”
“It never does. In any event, there was a group of us in our twenties who were on the margins, and Grey Thorn eventually, how do I put this, made himself known to us over the course of several months.”
“Meaning?”
“He had gone ‘quiet’ years before, hiding in Starswirl’s shadow, avoiding public places. So he put out feelers through some of the less-reputable members of society that he was looking for assistants, workers, boon companions--it was never made entirely clear.”
“Why?”
“Well, company, to be sure, but he was also looking for assistance in completing some of his projects.”
“His lair.”
“Right again. By this point he was doing a good job sidestepping Starswirl, who had gone very quiet a few years earlier, almost like he’d been spooked.”
Zecora smiled: “He had been--he’d been visited by the Harbinger.”
Gil raised an eyebrow: “‘Visited?’ That’s usually a one-time occurrence!”
Zecora nodded: “I’ve heard the tale from Twilight. Starswirl tricked Reaper with a spell and powerful glyphs. Reaper said he’d return in two days. It turned into twenty years.”
Gil looked up at the ceiling: “That explains a lot, actually! His wards became increasingly strong, and he literally went ‘underground’ in his final years.”
He tapped his chin: “And that all played perfectly into Grey Thorn’s plans: he could avoid being detected, too, just by staying close to his mentor, while feeding the old wizard’s paranoia, keeping him off-balance while we built the lair.”
“But Starswirl did find it.”
“Too late. Yes, he melted-in the main passage, cast a series of strong wards, and scrubbed his secret library, but we had already worked out a new entry and duplicated the books and scrolls anyway, so we merely had to wait for him to finally die.”
“So what went wrong?”
Gil smiled wanly: “Yes, good question. Obviously I wouldn't be here if everything had gone smoothly. Nor would my four cohorts.”
“All five of you are here?”
Gil closed his eyes and let his head drop: “Were. Dark Iron was the last of my friends to drift into a shade. He faded some hundred years ago.”
“So how did Grey Thorn get you?”
“Dark Iron had a violent streak and I was a drunk.”
Zecora furrowed her brow: “I don’t understand.”
“Grey Thorn had already started to work on his creation before Starswirl was dead and the lair was finished. I don’t really know where he was doing this, but he put in at least two years before Starswirl passed, and two afterwards.”
“He was down where the Void is now, deep in a chasm beneath the old foundations of the castle. It’s accessed through a secret passage beneath the bone pit in the creation chamber.”
Gil nodded slowly: “Yes--that follows.”
He stood and walked to the shelves of knick-knacks: “The five of us were left to our own devices more and more as we saw less and less of Grey Thorn.”
He looked down at Bramble: “I started drinking and turning up drunk and chatty in public places. Dark Iron took his sexual frustration--among other frustrations--out on the local mares, and it was coming to the attention of the authorities more and more.”
“And Grey Thorn feared it would get back to him.”
“Yes. So one evening he had me join him in his newly-finished lair. He showed me what he was working on, explained the basic premise of the Vacuum, showed me the mirror he had crafted in imitation of Starswirl’s.”
“With or without Starswirl’s help?”
“Unsure. He was vague about its origins and its ultimate use. He made it clear he had been using it to travel to other worlds, other realities, in an effort to gain knowledge and materials.”
“Why did he show you? He had been so secretive to that point, yes?”
“Well, yes, though the five of us knew of his lair, of course, and had begun to help round up old tomes and spell books to stock it--especially Hotspark and her ‘sticky hooves.’ But none of us knew about his ‘special project’ until that evening.”
“Why you?”
“I don’t like to brag, but aside from Starswirl, I may well have been the most powerful unicorn in Equestria. I was certainly the best spellcaster.”
“And he needed your help?”
Gil smiled grimly and returned to his cushion: “That was my assumption that evening. And to be sure, he showed me the basic workings, and much of the otherworldly technology and magic he had acquired. He asked for some advice and let me probe the inner workings with my magic.”
“But you assumed wrong, I take it.”
Gil nodded slowly: “Yes. He played to my ego, and made me feel so clever. And he did ask for my help, though he was vague, and I was half drunk.”
“Help how?”
“He was having trouble getting what we now call the Sentinel to fully awaken and integrate with the Vacuum. He wanted to know if I had any thoughts after I had my chance to probe.”
“Did you?”
Gil chuckled: “Oh, yes. Let me take you forward to this scene’s conclusion, two evenings later.”
The projection reformed in the air, this time showing the floor of the creation chamber. Grey Thorn and Gil stood in front of the shimmering table, and hovering above the bone pit was an undulating, black sphere roughly the size of a carriage.
Past Gil squinted at the Void then down at a series of glyphs drawn on the tabletop: “Well, it’s pretty clear you haven’t applied enough power to this thing to bind it. You’re pouring your own power into it to keep it stable, aren’t you?”
Grey Thorn nodded: “Yes--and my blood.”
Gil raised an eyebrow and wobbled unsteadily around the table toward the Void; Grey Thorn paused at the table then trailed him by a couple of paces. The rusty-red unicorn stopped in front of the Void and sent out a pulse of bright gold magic.
He rubbed the back of a hoof across his eyes and peered into the platter-sized gap that opened in the quivering black surface before him.
Gil strained his magic and his eyes to expand the image in the perceived distance: “Yes, I see...it’s bathed in blood. So you’re using your own blood for this? This degree of dark magic will ruin you!”
“Not once I control it--then I can draw power from it.”
Gil expanded the gap and examined the various bones and bits of wreckage strewn across the interior of the Void: “Is that what all that is down in there? Where have you been?”
“Other worlds, other realities, other powers.”
He glanced over his shoulder: “And other creatures, it appears. Is this what litters your pit?”
Grey Thorn chewed his lip for a moment: “Yes...”
Gil raised an eyebrow and turned his face back to the opening: “I see. That certainly explains the strange magical signature of this barrier wall. But it also reinforces my perception that this is a net-negative system--a sort of vacuum.”
Zecora nodded: “Your name for this place…”
“Exactly. And he knew it, I was just confirming what he already suspected.”
Grey Thorn added a reddish beam of magic, causing the Void to contract slightly and form a hazy nimbus: “But I have bonded with that umbilicus and can make it express itself externally. I can draw from it!”
Gil furrowed his brow and tipped forward, pulling the black tendril deep in the Void’s perceived background into sharper focus: “But at what cost, Thorn? This thing is pulling energy from everywhere! It’s a mess! You’d never live long enough to master it!”
“As long as I can keep it charged…”
“Fed you mean! That thing in there is alive--at least, it acts like it is! It’s going to take all you can give it just to keep this thing from rupturing!”
“That is my intent. I can travel through the mirror to other places and times to keep it sated. Then I can draw off its power to replenish and restore myself.”
Gil shook his head as he leaned in further, cycling the magic emanating from his horn through a rainbow of colors: “No--you’re back to a net-negative, again! You can’t stay ahead if you’re constantly hauling this thing back and forth through realities. It has to be stable. It has to stay close to its base. Your only choice would be--”
He rolled his eyes upward toward the chamber’s ceiling and froze: “You don’t mean to take it, just to bring victims back here…”
Zecora gasped as the heavy cleaver Grey Thorn had been hovering behind his left hip slashed into view and decapitated Gil. The headless body lurched forward and gushed blood into and across the surface of the Void as its legs twitched and bladder emptied.
The scene froze as Gil tipped his head back and forth: “Of course I don’t know exactly what happened. I do know that chopping blade was one of several implements on the table, and I have no memory of the kind of burst of light and sound that typically accompany blunt force trauma to the head.”
“As for the rest, as my essence was being pulled through the opening--what I would later call the Rift--I sensed a rush of blood passing through with me moments before my consciousness faded.”
He glanced at Zecora’s furrowed brow: “The rest is a bit of embellishment. I had been drinking most of the afternoon, so I assume I pissed myself at the moment of death. And I can’t be sure I was beheaded entirely--it’s just more dramatic that way!”
“And then what?”
“Then I hit the ground, such as it is, with the majority of my spirit and life force already stripped away. But because the Sentinel wasn’t really the Sentinel just yet, I had a chance to find what seemed to be the closest thing to cover around.”
The scene reformed and showed Gil, now semi-translucent and ragged stumbling across a close-cropped field of orange-red turf toward some sort of metallic wreckage. He collapsed across the threshold and looked around at the dim, puzzling interior.
The scene winked-out: “A bit of luck, as it would turn out. The metal that wreck and several other artifacts are made of, is resistant to the Vacuum’s effect. It doesn’t entirely negate it, but it blocks it fairly well.”
“Then you founded this refuge.”
“Well, not immediately, but ultimately, yes. I scavenged bits and pieces of material and wreckage. It was very tricky, relearning how to manipulate things using severely-weakened magic. Then not long after I was pulled in, Grey Thorn finally managed to integrate with the Sentinel as the Swamp began to form.”
“And you’ve been hiding and evading ever since.”
“And fading away, little by little. In fact, if not for my young companion, here, I’d have lost the last shred of my essence long ago. Because he gathers intelligence for me, I don’t have to exert myself, and the Vacuum takes less of a toll.”
Zecora squinted at Bramble: “Yes, back to your ‘young companion’--how has he survived all these centuries? In fact, how does he exist at all?”
“Recall I said Grey Thorn was using himself to sustain this place?”
Zecora nodded.
“Well, I was being literal. He ‘primed the pump,’ as it were, with not just his power, dark magic and blood, but with his own essence. It’s how he ultimately bonded to the Sentinel and, by extension, the Vacuum.”
“Is there more of him here? Why him as a colt?”
“You’ve heard the old concept of one’s life flashing before their eyes as they die?”
“Yes.”
“Well, it’s true. Images of my life flickered through my brain in the last moments of consciousness--and they ran in reverse. The same was clearly true for Grey Thorn.”
He stood and wandered over to a window overlooking the Compound’s central courtyard: “His spirit was stripped away, layer by layer in reverse. All that remains now is Bramble, and that largely because he gravitated to this place right after he was extracted.”
“How many other Grey Thorns are there?”
“Were there. Six; Bramble is the last. The others were never bothered by the Sentinel, to the best of my knowledge, but even they eventually succumbed to the Vacuum’s drain.”
Zecora furrowed her brow: “So, what was left of Grey Thorn?”
“A hollowed-out shell of a pony. He’d have still retained his memories and much of his power, but more and more he’d have been dependent on his creation for his very existence. They eventually became completely, symbiotically entangled.”
“So, when the Harbinger reaped him, what became of him? I mean, that happened here, yes? Shouldn’t the final bits of him have ended up here as well?”
“A lot happened during the great cataclysm a few months back, and much is still unclear. There was a huge gold-and-red flash that filled the air, and a peal of deafening thunder, then everything just froze. Nopony really knows what happened for those few moments, or even how long it lasted, but suddenly the space within the Vacuum contracted violently to a fraction of its usual perceived volume.”
“That was when Grey Thorn was slain, and Reaper bound the Void, collapsing it down to the size of a large ball.”
Gil nodded slowly as he looked up at the ceiling: “‘A large ball.’ Compared to its original dimensions, that sounds about right. In any event as quickly as it started, it was over. Grey Thorn himself may have been destroyed, or ejected out of the Vacuum through the momentary breach. Only one entity could really answer your question.”
He grinned wryly: “Maybe you should ask the Harbinger.”
Zecora sighed as her ears drooped: “Believe me, I wish I could!”
Because I Could not Stop for Death
Reaper slowly drifted around a corner in a dark, labyrinthine chamber, honeycombed with scores of narrow niches, alcoves and passageways, many containing shadowy figures ensconced in faintly-glowing cages. He cast a low, silvery glow from his horn, and drew his sword, which hovered before him, shimmering with a faint golden aura.
He worked his way through the tight, twisting corridors, until he stopped abruptly, before passing through a low archway. Directly before him, utterly black, impenetrable and disorienting was the rim of the Pit.
Reaper’s sword swung to the right like a compass needle, guiding him along the edge of the Pit, barely two yards from its boundary. He carefully skirted the rim and made his way some forty yards, through a large alcove, and past several ghostly cages, to a shade, slumped forward against its confining enclosure.
“Hello, Grey Thorn--long time no see!”
The translucent grey figure lifted its head a bit: “I will not speak to you, Slave.”
Reaper stepped around the cage and faced Grey Thorn: “Not a problem. I just came down here to answer a couple of questions. You see, I’ve never been down this far before--all the way to the bottom--and I needed to locate you, and see if you were, well, conscious.”
Grey Thorn looked at Reaper balefully for a moment, then turned his head away.
Reaper nodded: “Yeah, you’re conscious, alright--not happy about your new accommodations, but clearly aware of them. And I’ll be able to find you quicker next time, now that I’ve picked my way through your lovely neighborhood.”
He glanced over his shoulder at the Pit: “You’d think after over five-thousand years I’d have made it down here once, but no--the closest I’ve come is one, floor? Layer? Level? Not really sure what word to use. One layer above you resides the spirit of old Stonecutter. Ever heard of him?”
Grey Thorn stood silent, eyes closed.
“Well anyway, he died two-hundred-and-five years ago at the hooves of his fellow villagers. Turns out they finally figured out what had happened to the dozen fillies who had disappeared from the surrounding area over a ten-year period.”
Reaper leaned down and brought his face close to Grey Thorn’s: “They eventually turned up buried at the quarry with their skulls smashed in.”
Reaper stood back up: “He actually killed a thirteenth pony on his way out--one of the village posse--but at least Sweet Rain was an adult who went down fighting.”
Reaper turned to leave, then looked over his shoulder: “They killed Stonecutter on the spot, and it’s probably lucky for him they didn’t know he had sex with his victims’ bodies after he murdered them, or his end would likely have been very long and gruesome.”
Reaper walked away slowly into the gloom: “So ponder that, if you will: you’re further down in Tartarus’ bowels than a necrophiliac, serial filly murderer. See you later!”
Grey Thorn clenched his jaw and glared after Reaper.
“He would not speak to you?”
Reaper shook his head at Luna as she shifted in the seat atop her dais: “Nope; I didn’t really think he would, to be honest. I just wanted to confirm his location and make sure he’s conscious—which he is.”
“Do you think he will speak to me, or to Twilight?”
“Hard to say: we now know he always had a fascination bordering on obsession with you—“
“With Nightmare Moon, rather, and she is no longer part of this world.”
“True, and I guess we’ll find out how big a difference that makes. As for Twilight…”
Luna took a sip of wine from her goblet and sighed: “The dream sessions in the baths are doing her good, and I suspect she is correct in her assessment of Grey Thorn and his desire to brag. Twilight may well hold the key.”
Reaper shrugged: “But can she handle it? The bowels of Tartarus are pretty rough on the best of days. When you’re dealing with a ‘brittle’ individual, I don’t know how much she’ll get out of him before she cracks.”
“We can but try. Zecora’s time is undoubtedly short, no matter what her circumstances, and—“
“And I’ll do anything it takes to bring her back, no matter what the cost—you taught me that, Reaper.”
Reaper and Luna turned in tandem to see Twilight emerge from her guest room off Luna’s chamber. Luna stood and descended the dais’ steps: “We know that, Twilight, and that is part of our concern.”
Reaper nodded: “Kiddo, when I surrendered my power to restore you two, I did so in the full knowledge that it might destroy me and both of you in the process. I went in clear-eyed and without sentiment. Can you say the same?”
Twilight’s red-rimmed eyes hardened: “I couldn’t live with myself I don’t try everything in my power. When do we go?”
Reaper furrowed his brow: “I’d like to consult with Celestia before taking you—“
Twilight stamped her hoof: “Horseshit! I’m tired of everypony treating me like I’m made of spun glass! Zecora may be dying as we speak, and you want to ask for permission!”
“That’s not what I said! I said—“
“Did you consult with Celestia before you violated the laws of Entropy and Fate?”
“As a matter of fact, I did. I let her know what—“
“Fine!”
Twilight closed her eyes and muttered under her breath for a moment. Celestia appeared with a flash a few seconds later: “Twilight! Did you just call for me?”
“Yes—we’re heading down into Tartarus now to see if we can get Grey Thorn to talk. I wanted to let you know that I’ll be fine.”
Celestia turned with concern toward Luna: “Will you please make sure Twilight doesn’t stay too—“
Twilight stepped between the two sisters: “I’ll be fine. I’ll make sure I don’t fatigue or break down or piss myself or whatever else it is you three think’s going to happen!”
Celestia stepped back in surprise as Reaper raised an eyebrow: “I don’t really think any of those things will happen, Twilight, but you tend to push yourself too hard, even under the best of circumstances, and there’s no margin for error, here. This isn’t about you.”
“No, it’s about Zecora, who might already be dead, and Grey Thorn who is dead, and I wish to the Cosmos there was something worse for him than mere death!”
Luna nodded: “I, too, have much anger towards Grey Thorn, Twilight, but you must keep it in check, lest it cloud your judgement. I know whereof I speak…”
Celestia nodded: “Of course we’re all concerned about Zecora, and of course we’ll do all we can, but we can also be concerned about your well-being, too Twilight!”
Twilight’s shoulders sagged as her neck bent down: “I know, and I’m sorry, Princess. I just…I just feel so responsible for her fate. If only I’d—“
Reaper cut her off: “Not again, Twilight! You know as well as I do—literally —that you couldn’t have arrived any sooner than you did, and that your only choice at that exact moment was to seal and restrain to Void, or risk a full-scale breach.”
Twilight closed her eyes and sighed deeply: “I know. But it doesn’t mean I don’t still regret it.”
Luna stepped up beside Twilight and put a broad, indigo wing over the young alicorn’s shoulder: “We all understand regret, Twilight. You must not let it consume you.”
Twilight looked up with a wan smile: “I’ll try Luna. I’ll try.”
Reaper straightened his cloak: “OK, just so we’re all on the same page, let’s make this a fairly brief visit, just enough to test the waters and see how he reacts to you two, and you two to the surroundings.”
Twilight and Luna nodded and disappeared in a pair of silvery-white flashes.
Reaper began to fade when Celestia stepped toward him: “Reaper--I’m genuinely concerned for Twilight’s mind. I’ve never been deeper in Tartarus than the Courtyard area; even Luna has only ventured a bit further a time or two.”
She chewed her lip for a moment: “Are the old myths and legends and nightmares about Tartarus true? Is it really that bad?”
Reaper bowed his head as he phased away: “No--it’s worse.”
Reaper phased-in just inside the broad archway leading down and away from Tartarus’ courtyard. He peered around, and finally spotted the two alicorns standing near a holding pen, looking at Cerberos. Reaper teleported next to Luna.
“Shall we go, ladies?”
Twilight pointed to the massive, three-headed dog: “Can he stop incorporeal beings as well as those with bodies?”
Reaper nodded: “Yes, though he uses his astral form for that, so he often appears to be sleeping.”
“What could he do to a spirit if he trapped or caught it? Could he actually damage its essence?”
“No, but the spirit would be overcome with an intense sense of dread and despair, which are pretty powerful deterrents down here.”
The three companions walked toward the downward passage and illuminated their horns as the darkness swallowed them.
Reaper paused, and a patch of the matte-black floor beneath the companions’ hooves shimmered for a moment, then disappeared, revealing a smooth, five-yard-wide shaft. He half-phased and stepped out into the open air above the hole.
“Just hover out here and let the currents carry you. This will take us down quite a long way before we have to resume our trip on hoof.”
Twilight fanned her wings slightly and floated tentatively next to Reaper: “Why can’t we take it all the way down?”
Reaper moved aside a bit to allow Luna to settle in on his other side: “It gets a little weird down toward the bottom.”
The three began to descend: “All of Tartarus is somewhat like the Pit--it exists extra-dimensionally, and as we go deeper, the vortices and eddies, for lack of a better word, begin to warp and tug at the space around you. Near the bottom it’s simply too unstable and unpredictable for this shaft to reliably set you down in a known spot.”
Luna raised an eyebrow as her glittering mane and tail were wafted upward by the shaft’s currents: “Where might it put one?”
Reaper shrugged: “Who knows? That’s kind of the problem. You might find yourself in another world’s version of Tartarus, or whatever they call it there.”
“Belzul, for instance.”
Reaper smiled grimly: “That would be a good example, yes.”
Twilight glanced back and forth at Reaper and Luna: “‘Belzul?’ What’s that? Was that something from--”
She was cut short by a long, ragged, wailing cry that tore the air as they slowed to a stop and settled on the bottom of the shaft. The hole in the ceiling above them silently filled in leaving no trace.
Twilight crouched slightly, her ears flat against her head: “What was that ?! Is somepony being tortured or punished?”
Reaper furrowed his brow as he led the Princesses down a narrow, twisting passage toward an open, catacomb-like vault: “Not in the way you mean, not in the sense one takes from the old mares’ tales and legends.”
The three ponies emerged into a vast chamber, lit by countless torches and braziers, filled with freestanding cages, barred pits, niches and crystal-sealed tombs. Twilight began to tremble and sweat, and Luna shied away from a pale bluish pegasus bound inside a heavy iron cage.
Twilight grimaced: “She--she ate dead ponies?”
Reaper raised an eyebrow and leaned in toward the pegasus’ blank, staring eyes: “Well, mostly dead, anyway.”
Luna winced: “They were alive ?”
“One was. She hadn’t quite finished off poor Mossy Mane before tearing into his abdomen to get to his liver. That did the trick, and I showed up to escort poor Mossy’s spirit onward a few minutes later.”
Twilight shuddered: “How--how did Stratus die?”
“Asleep in her bed of old age.”
“She was never caught?”
“Nope. She moved around in the north in disputed areas during some of the last, big unicorn clan conflicts, so she was able to lurk and pick-off her victims without arousing much suspicion.”
Luna closed her eyes for a moment: “Her dreams were normal. I do not recall any sort of dark or terrible images or impulses.”
Reaper nodded: “No big surprise--she was a textbook psychopath, completely untroubled and entirely without conscience.”
He unsheathed his sword and tapped the cage: “Until now. Now she spends her days consumed by the horror of what she did, what she became, who she killed.”
Reaper straightened up and turned back toward Twilight: “That’s the nature of punishment down here--it’s self-inflicted. Given enough time all the denizens of Deep Tartarus punish and torture and consume themselves.”
“Forever?”
Reaper shrugged: “Maybe. Some finally come to terms with their actions and move on, others wallow, others deny.”
“Move on?”
“I’ve seen some ponies higher up over the centuries than where they were first dropped. There is the possibility of slow progression.”
“But then what?”
“Don’t know. Never really thought about it, to be honest. Ponies, by and large, are a pretty good lot--not many have been sent here.”
Luna nodded: “How much further do we have to go?”
Reaper turned away from Twilight and squinted into the distance and pointed with his sword: “Straight along this passage, then down a twisting stairway. That will take us to the penultimate level.”
Twilight peered into the grey gloom: “How far is that? I can’t perceive the distance down here!”
“Miles, to be honest, but now that you’re down here and stable, it’s a fairly straight shot. You can teleport once I get to the end. Hang on.”
Reaper faded away, leaving Twilight and Luna fidgeting nervously next to Stratus Chaser, who was now moaning softly. Suddenly the alicorns were aware of a beacon in their minds’-eyes; they disappeared in a pair of flashes and reappeared next to Reaper.
Twilight looked around at the low, polished, bluish-black archway over her head, and the lurid reddish glow beyond: “Are we getting close?”
Reaper passed through the opening and began descending a steep, winding staircase, dotted with dim, flickering bronze sconces: “This takes us down to the next-to-last level. You’ll have to stand by for a few minutes while I re-establish a path to the final descending stairway. The chambers and grottoes and pathways shift a bit and I’ll need to nail the course down before giving you a summons.”
Twilight shuddered as she fell in behind Reaper: “How long will we have to wait, do you think? Is the next level down like this one?”
Reaper grimaced: “Umm, not exactly. The level we’re leaving is much like the higher ones, just with tighter restraints. Interestingly, the bottom is similar to this one, but pressed right up against the Pit. It’s the level we’re about to hit that doesn’t really fit the model.”
Luna stepped up beside Twilight: “How so?”
“It’s a lot more like the old mares’ tales and dark legends. There’re no attendants or demons or whatnot, but...well, you’ll see.”
After two minutes of picking their way down the steep, cracked stairway, the three ponies emerged into a maze of alcoves and pits and pools and gaping fissures, many filled with smoke and fading embers, bathing the entire area in a dull, pulsing red glow. Cries of many voices, alien, pony and unidentifiable echoed in their ears.
Twilight froze, her eyes wide: “What is going on here?”
Reaper sighed: “Yeah, this is the level where the condemned’s sins are made manifest.”
Luna furrowed her brow and gazed at a blurry creature stretched backwards across a bench, its throat torn open, spraying the ground in front of it with its blue-green blood.
“‘Made manifest?’ As in they experience the effect of their own actions?”
Reaper glanced at the twitching creature: “Right. This is also the level where beings from other worlds and realities are visible to each other. We’re so close to the heart of Tartarus and the base of the Pit, here, that the boundaries between worlds are almost transparent.”
Luna sidestepped the ghostly outline of some six-legged creature screaming as it was drowning in steaming, golden pool, its head held just beneath the surface: “How many ponies are down here?”
“Don’t really know. I’ve only been down here a few times--twice to see Stonecutter, once to see a mare from long ago who poisoned her extended family as part of a convoluted plot, and earlier today as I passed through to the bottom.”
Twilight clenched her jaw and glanced away from a tall, insect-like creature whose bowels were spilling out from its abdomen as it struggled against its restraints: “How can you not know? Didn’t you send them here?”
Reaper threaded his way between a pair of rough pillars to an open area, surrounded by eight glaring lamps: “Not exactly. You weren’t the Harbinger long enough to figure this out, but I have the ability to tag a spirit for, well, extra handling .”
“Extra handling?”
“Yes. If I feel a pony to have been outside the bounds of ponykind, I can mark them. Then Fate or Entropy or whomever, takes that into account when sending their spirit on. I don’t know where they ultimately land, but I’d be shocked if all of them aren’t down here somewhere .”
“Could you find them if you wanted to?”
“Sure, if I wanted to take the time, and if I cared.”
“Like you wanted to find Grey Thorn.”
“Exactly. He was more than worth the search. I was able to eliminate most of Tartarus just by assuming he’d be here or at the bottom.”
Luna nodded: “Even then, you seemed to have found him fairly quickly.”
“I rolled the dice and figured he’d be at the very bottom. If I’d been wrong I’d have had to backtrack to this level and start over.”
Twilight trembled: “Do we really have to keep wandering across here?”
Reaper adjusted his cloak and drew his faintly-glowing sword: “No--you can stay here, and I’ll let you know when I’m at the other end, again; stand by.”
He phased-out, leaving the two alicorns alone, their eyes darting about in response to various screams and cries and unidentifiable sounds coming from all around them.
Twilight shifted nervously, then concentrated on one of the slender, slate-gray pillars holding up a lamp: “Hey, come look at this.”
Luna stepped up beside Twilight, who pointed at a faint, ghostly shape on the pillar: “Is this a rune, or a glyph?”
Luna leaned in and squinted: “Yes--it does appear to be a glyph of some sort, but blurry and distant.”
“Yes, like it’s not really here. Hmm…”
Twilight bit her lip and focused a pulse of dark magic at the pillar, inscribing a shimmering figure.
Luna tipped her head to one side: “A rune of return?”
“I suspect others are leaving ‘breadcrumbs’ as well, so I figured I’d give it a try.”
Luna nodded: “Yes--we can see if it is detectable once we reach the far side of this expanse, after Reaper--”
Both alicorns raised their heads, and Twilight turned away from the pillar: “Speaking of--”
They appeared next to Reaper in a pair of flashes a moment later. Twilight turned back and peered across the hazy, near-limitless chamber behind them. Her horn glowed deep-purple for a moment, then she nodded to Luna.
Reaper raised an eyebrow: “What’s that about?”
Twilight turned back toward Reaper: “I left a rune of return back in that clearing. I can clearly sense it.”
Luna nodded: “Should we have need of an independent exit.”
Reaper bobbed his head slightly: “Yeah, that makes sense. I have my sword to act like a compass, and I’ve never brought anypony else down deep, so I guess I’ve never really thought about it.”
He stepped beneath another low, polished archway and beckoned the Princesses to follow him down the final, steep incline to the bottom of Tartarus.
They arrived a couple of minutes later at a blank, black wall. Luna and Twilight looked at each other in confusion. Luna looked around and cleared her throat: “Where is the entrance?”
Reaper smiled: “Yeah, this one threw me for a second, too. You’re going to have to phase to get through it.”
Twilight shifted back and forth, lifting her hooves one at a time: “Um, I don’t know if I can still do that…”
“Give it a try.”
She closed her eyes and bit her lip. For several seconds nothing happened, then she began to fade, like a washed-out photograph.
Reaper advanced to the wall, nearly touching it: “OK, just walk on through, but don’t take more than a step or two--the nearness of the Pit throws off your perception. You could take a wrong turn and be lost in less than a minute. Just wait for us to follow.”
Twilight took a deep breath and walked to, then through the jet-black barrier without a trace.
Reaper nodded, then turned to Luna: “Your turn. Let me touch my horn to yours and start the process. I suspect you’ll be able to take it from there.”
He stepped up to Luna and touched his glowing horn to hers as he began to phase. A ripple passed across Luna’s body, like water on a still pond, distorting and fading her form. She took a sharp, shuddering breath and held the effect until it stabilized. She too, passed effortlessly through the wall, with Reaper close behind.
Luna and Reaper appeared on the other side and solidified, finding Twilight standing stock-still, shivering with her eyes squeezed shut: “It--it--it’s everywhere!”
Luna stepped beside Twilight and closed her eyes as well: “I too cannot avoid it--the Pit seems to be everywhere all at once!”
Reaper nodded: “Yeah, that’s the intended effect. This is the last awful stop on the Tartrus Express. The spirits imprisoned here are confronted with the reality of oblivion at all times. Many of them aren’t even really restrained--they can’t phase through the barrier wall, and any wandering is likely to lead to their final doom.”
Twilight forced her eyes open and looked back at the blank, matte-black space behind her: “How--how can we get back, then?”
Reaper drew his sword, which hovered before him: “Other than with me and Death’s Token? You likely can’t.”
Twilight squinted at the rock face surrounding the barrier wall: “I wonder if--if I can leave a rune here, too?”
Reaper shrugged: “Give it a shot.”
Twilight swallowed and charged her horn with dark energy, inscribing a rune of return on the stone in front of her: “There. I--I’ll check it in a bit to see if I can come back to it.”
Reaper turned away from the alicorns, bringing his sword in front of his face, following it as it led deep into the maze of Tartarus’ last level: “OK ladies, let’s see if you can handle being down here long enough to get to Grey Thorn.”
The three companions progressed slowly through dozens of chambers and grottoes, wending their way through a labyrinth of narrow passageways and incongruously-broad avenues, all lit by the same, sourceless, dull, silvery light.
After almost an hour they stopped in an antechamber of sorts, surrounded by half-a-dozen niches. In the niche directly across from them stood Grey Thorn, leaning against his cage, eyes closed.
Reaper, Luna and Twilight approached, the two alicorns trembling and sweating, eyes cast down, avoiding the omnipresent draw of the Pit. They stopped in front of Grey Thorn.
Eyes still closed, a cold smile spread across his lips: “Well, well--somepony wants something very badly!”
Because I Could not Stop for Death
Reaper rapped his sword against Grey Thorn’s cage: “Told you I’d be back, G.T., and I brought visitors.”
Grey Thorn cracked open a single eye and glared at Reaper before glancing at Luna: “I will not speak to you, or the counterfeit Nightmare-Who-Was.”
Luna bristled: “I assure you, villain, that I am very much the genuine article!”
“No, you have none of the dark majesty she possesses; you have her form but not her aura, not her bearing. Begone!”
“The object of your obsession is no longer a part of this world--she remained behind on another world to forge a new destiny.”
“More’s the pity then, that the milquetoast didn’t stay behind and allow the glorious, dark spirit to grace this world untainted by your dross!”
Luna’s eyes flashed dangerously: “How dare you, you deranged murderer! If not for you I would not have suffered through--”
Reaper stepped between the two: “That’s enough, Luna--he’s just trying to get you riled-up. There’s no point to either of us being here, to be honest.”
He turned to Twilight: “Let’s see if he wants to shit all over you, too, thus removing any chance he has to lessen his solitude, even for just a bit.”
Grey Thorn tipped his head to one side: “‘Lessen my solitude.’ What do you mean by that?”
Twilight stepped forward: “There are some questions I would like to ask you, and the longer you feel like talking, the longer I can be convinced to hang around this terrible place.”
“Ah, our young, newly-entitled Princess of Friendship: what a pointless office. Still, I have heard tales of your prowess and seen first-hoof that you are not an entirely hopeless spellcaster.”
Twilight raised an eyebrow as Luna and Reaper took a step back: “Thanks--I guess?”
Grey Thorn closed his eyes again: “So, what would we discuss, once your bootless chaperones have left us, not to return?”
Luna furrowed her brow: “I do not like this. I oppose Twilight being here alone.”
Twilight opened her mouth to protest; Luna raised a hoof: “And not for the reason you think, Twilight. I would not trust anypony , myself included, to traverse this realm without a partner. You have seen how disorienting it is.”
Reaper nodded: “I agree. You’re going to need to line up a companion? Wingpony? Pick the term you like best. Who do you know whom you would trust to accompany you down here?”
Twilight chewed her lip: “I’ll have to think about that for a bit. I don’t think I want to subject anypony else to this!”
Luna draped a wing over the young Princess’ shoulder: “I understand your reluctance to put another in harm’s way, but the risks are too great to anypony here save Reaper.”
Reaper glanced over toward Grey Thorn: “Yeah, and I’ve been declared pony non gratis , unsurprisingly.”
Twilight sighed: “OK, I’ll figure something out…”
Luna shook her head: “We will figure something out--the three of us. And we shall ask my sister as well; I suspect she will have some good advice for you.”
Grey Thorn opened his eyes and sneered: “Oh, yes, by all means ask Celestia, that font of wisdom! Or perhaps you should just skip ahead and ask whomever she’s fobbed-off her responsibilities to now!”
Luna’s jaw clenched and her nostrils flared, and Reaper again stepped in front of the cage: “Alright, that’s enough of that! We found out what we needed to, so let’s head back up to Canterlot.”
He turned to Twilight: “Lay down another rune, here, and I’ll accompany you next time to ensure you can hit your various marks.”
Twilight nodded and stepped to the middle of the antechamber, blinking and squinting, averting her eyes from the Pit. She tipped her head down and inscribed a rune into the floor as Grey Thorn looked on with intense interest.
She stood up and turned to face her companions: “There--that should do it, I think.”
Reaper looked over his shoulder at Grey Thorn: “She’ll be back later, warlock, and the longer you cooperate, the longer you can stave off your crushing, eternal loneliness in the presence of Oblivion.”
Grey Thorn narrowed his eyes and stared at Twilight as the alicorns teleported away in a pair of flashes, and Reaper faded out of view.
Celestia walked into her solarium and sat down at the head of the table. Luna poured her a cup of tea while Twilight sipped a goblet of cider and flipped through a few pages of her notes.
Celestia nodded to her sister and placed the teacup and saucer to her left: “Thank you. So what did you three find out? Will Grey Thorn help?”
Luna shrugged: “Apparently not if Reaper or I are in attendance.”
“So he’ll talk to Twilight?”
Twilight swallowed and closed her notebook: “Yes, but I’m going to need a companion to go down there with me. It’s too risky for anypony other than Reaper to go alone.”
Celestia nodded: “Do you have any thoughts as to who might accompany you?”
“Well, Reaper seems to think unicorns would be most likely to resist the disorientation, and I’m inclined to agree. Unfortunately, the two I’d call who have enough power are either given to, umm, unstable decision-making, or aren’t in our world right now.”
She took another drink of cider: “I suppose I could ask Shining…”
Celestia shook her head: “No--I won’t allow the risk to him, especially given Cadance and the baby. We need somepony unattached in case the worst happens.”
She tapped her chin a few times, then turned to her attendant, and retrieved a quill and piece of parchment. She jotted down a note and placed it back on its tray: “Please deliver this to General Caracole at once.”
The lemon-yellow unicorn bowed slightly and turned to leave the room: “Right away, Princess!”
Reaper and the alicorns watched Celestia’s aide-de-camp trot briskly through the open door. Reaper turned back toward Celestia: “Who’d you have in mind?”
“Lieutenant Steel has has the type of experience that I think would make him well-suited for this mission.”
Twilight furrowed her brow: “Yeah, he might do. He’s not involved with anypony, and he’s been through some pretty intense, pretty weird stuff.”
Celestia nodded: “So what is it you’re hoping to accomplish? I’m still concerned that this puts you at great risk.”
Reaper pressed his hooves together beneath his chin: “Twilight knows more about the Void than any living pony, but nopony really knows how it functions, if it can be opened without losing containment, or if there’s any way to send or receive information from inside it.”
Twilight sighed: “My knowledge mostly extends to how to resist and contain it. It was almost like confronting a wild beast. I could sense an inner space--it’s how I knew Zecora hadn’t just been reduced to a smear, but was intact and resisting. She was clearly existing in some kind of bounded area.”
Celestia took another sip of tea and swirled the lees before looking at Reaper and Luna: “So if Twilight’s trying to get information out of Grey Thorn--and I want to get back to that in a minute--what will you two be doing?”
Reaper glanced at Luna then back to Celestia: “I’m less affected by the Void’s field, and have penetrated it once before. With Luna’s assistance I may be able to probe the Void and see if I can glean anything from its interior. We may be able to feed Twilight some leading questions.”
“Leading questions?”
Luna nodded: “We do not believe Grey Thorn will be entirely forthcoming, and it would be helpful if we could independently check some of the information he gives Twilight, and help guide her interrogations.”
“That’s an interesting word choice. Is he likely to help at all if he thinks he’s being interrogated?”
Luna lifted her wine cup and paused: “I suspect not. It will be incumbent on Twilight to keep things as conversational as possible.”
Celestia chewed her lip: “And more to the point, what’s his incentive to talk? I mean, there’s not really anything we can give him, correct?”
Reaper smiled: “Companionship. Company. Somepony to talk to. It’s unrelentingly awful down there, confronted with the specter of Oblivion right off your shoulder at all times, and your only solace, if you can call it that, is your own thoughts, memories, regrets and guilt.”
Twilight nodded: “I think he’ll talk to me. He hasn’t really had anypony to confide in or brag to or ask questions of in centuries.”
Reaper raised an eyebrow: “Just don’t get too ‘study-buddy’ with him. He’s clearly not to be trusted, and will likely be looking for revenge if he can figure an angle.”
Celestia agreed: “You have a generous spirit, Twilight, and a natural desire to help and, well, rehabilitate for lack of a better word.”
Luna shook her head: “Not this time--there is nothing left in him to recover. You must treat Grey Thorn as what he is: corrupt and evil.”
Reaper glanced back and forth between the Sisters with a furrowed brow, then turned to Twilight: “OK, ladies--I think Twilight gets it. Besides, she’ll have a wingpony tagging along to help keep her grounded. Speaking of…”
Noble Steel appeared behind Celestia’s seat in a bluish flash: “You wished to see me, Princess? The General just received your note, and I came as quickly as I could!”
Celestia stood, smiled and pointed at padded bench next to Twilight: “No apologies needed, Lieutenant! Thank you for coming so promptly; please take a seat.”
Noble walked around the table, eyeing Reaper nervously, and sat down next to Twilight: “What can I do for you?”
Twilight sat down her cider cup and faced Noble: “I’m going to attempt to get information from Grey Thorn, which will involve going down into Tartarus. We would like you to accompany me.”
Noble’s eyes flicked around the table: “I’ll be glad to help in any way I can, of course, but wh-why me? Wouldn’t it make more sense to take Princess Luna or--” He pointed tentatively at Reaper: “Him?”
Reaper smiled: “No go, my young Lancer--Grey Thorn’s made it abundantly clear he wants nothing to do with either of us. Twilight’s our only access point, here, and she’s going to need a wingpony.”
Celestia nodded: “Of course, you must decide if you want to do this--nopony will force you. This will likely be a very stressful and upsetting assignment.”
The unicorn shrugged: “It’s not like I haven’t already been through one of those!”
Luna turned to Noble: “Thus my sister’s suggestion you be included on this mission--you have already been hardened to the horrors that can attend the supernatural.”
Noble raised an eyebrow: “Well, I’m not quite sure I’m hardened , but I will do my best to aid the Princess in any way I can.”
Celestia smiled: “That’s all we can ask, Lieutenant!”
“Will I have to interact with him? What sort of environment is he in?”
Twilight sighed: “I suppose we’d better take you downstairs and show you around.”
“Now?”
Reaper stood: “No time like the present, Lieutenant. Every hour we delay is another hour closer to the end for Zecora.”
Luna nodded: “If it is not already too late.”
Twilight pushed back from the table and shook her head: “We can’t think like that. Follow me, Noble--we’ll teleport to Tartarus together, and Reaper can guide us down to the bottom. I should be able to track through the final two levels after one more walkthrough.”
Noble stepped next to Twilight and they disappeared with a ‘pop’ in a pale magenta flash. Reaper turned to Luna: “I’ll get them situated and meet you down in the Creation Chamber in a bit. We need to figure out how or even if we can glean any information from the Void.”
Luna stood and bowed slightly to Celestia: “Would you please join me for a bit, sister? I would like to talk with you briefly.”
Celestia rose from her bench: “Certainly! I’ll join you in a moment.”
Luna teleported away as Celestia turned to Reaper: “I’m really worried that Twilight may not be ready for this. I know that her time with Luna has helped, but has it been enough?”
Reaper shrugged and pulled his cloak close: “Only one way to really know, Princess. She’s a smart kid.”
Celestia furrowed her brow as Reaper faded away: “It’s not her brain I’m worried about…”
Twilight and Noble appeared with a burst of light in Tartarus’ courtyard, just beneath the archway leading to its lower level. Twilight looked around and noticed her companion’s wide eyes: “I guess you’ve never been down here, right?”
He shook his head slowly: “No--why would I?”
“Good point. I’ve done so many crazy things and been so many strange places over the last, almost three years, that I sometimes forget how unique that is.”
She looked back toward Cerberus’ enclosure: “You’ve had your share of eerie experiences too, though.”
“You mean the mission into the chasm beneath the castle’s foundations? Sure, but that can’t hold a candle to all you’ve been through!”
Twilight glanced over her shoulder as Reaper phased-in, just inside the archway: “It doesn’t have to hold a candle, Lieutenant. It just has to take the edge off what you’re about to experience. I’m barely prepared!”
Noble nodded with a smile: “I understand, but please call me Noble, Princess!”
Twilight returned the smile: “As long as you call me Twilight!”
They turned and joined Reaper as he began to walk into the darkness, looking for the descending shaft. He stopped and pointed his sword at the floor, then hovered over the opening.
Twilight drifted out over the shaft, then tipped her head at peered at Noble: “Hmm. You can’t phase, and you can’t fly. Can you make a good bubble?”
A shimmering reddish bubble formed around the grey unicorn: “Now what?”
Twilight reached out a band of magic and pulled the pale red bubble to her side, keeping it slightly above her as the three dropped slowly to the base of the shaft, settling gently on the floor. Noble’s bubble dissolved as the three ponies stepped out into the dark, hazy level.
Noble shuddered and laid his ears down: “A-are we close?”
Twilight shook her head: “Not really, but I laid down a series of return runes earlier that will allow us to teleport across huge areas of this level and the two below it.”
“Two?!”
Reaper nodded: “You two can teleport across this level to its exit, then rest for a minute. It’s a long way, and I assume it’s fatiguing. I’ll be waiting.”
He faded away as Noble looked around him, eyes wide: “Are-are the levels below this like this one?”
Twilight shrugged: “Sort of. I thought the next one down was the worst thing ever. Then…”
“Then what?”
Twilight closed her eyes: “You’ll see. Follow me.”
Reaper sat before the wall blocking access to the final level, eyes closed, cloak pulled around his shoulders. Twenty minutes later Twilight and Noble appeared out of the gloom.
Twilight stepped next to Reaper, opened her saddlebag and lifted out a flask. She levitated it over to Noble as Reaper raised an eyebrow.
“A little rough, I take it?”
Noble trembled as he unsteadily uncorked the flask and pressed the neck to his lips for a long drink. He swallowed heavily and passed the uncorked flask back to Twilight.
“W--well, umm, at least this time I didn’t shit myself…”
Reaper stood and grinned: “The first time the Princess here encountered undiluted death she left a big puddle behind, so don’t feel too bad, kid.”
Twilight rolled her eyes: “Hey--that was a long time ago!”
“You know, it really wasn’t.”
Twilight furrowed her brow: “No, I guess it really wasn’t. It just feels like a lifetime ago.”
Reaper smiled sympathetically: “In many ways, it was a lifetime ago, Twilight. It’s been a rough few months for all of us.”
She sighed heavily: “And it’s not done yet. How do we get Noble through this wall?”
“We’re going to have to teach him to phase. If you and I both stay in contact with him as we go through the wall, we should be able to give him the feel for it. Then you can teach him the unicorn technicalities.”
Twilight nodded: “OK, step up to this wall, Noble. Reaper and I will touch you and then we all pass through. It feels pretty weird, and as we go through don’t become separated. It’s very disorienting on the other side.”
Reaper touched his horn to Noble’s left temple as Twilight leaned against his right, and all three shuffled, head-first, into and through the jet-black surface.
They emerged seconds later and solidified; Noble wobbled, and leaned against Twilight, eyes squeezed shut, for support for a moment: “S-sorry, Prin--Twilight! I’ve just never felt anything like that. I couldn’t tell where I ended and you and the wall began.”
Twilight nodded: “I’ll help you master it. Reaper doesn’t use magic for this, but there is a unicorn equivalent.”
“Sure, I’m looking forward to--oh…”
Noble opened his eyes and suddenly dropped to his knees, staring blankly at the floor in front of him: “I--I--what? Where are we?”
Reaper took a deep breath: “Welcome to the lowest level of Tartarus; you can’t get any closer to the Pit without actually falling in. Twilight put it best: it’s disorienting. Even I have to watch my step.”
Twilight leaned down and held out a hoof: “Come on Noble, get up. I’ll help you forward a few steps--we can teleport once your head clears a little.”
Noble staggered to his feet, breathing heavily as Twilight draped a wing over his shoulder, her purple feathers brushing against his cobalt-blue mane: “OK, are you ready to jump? It’s not that far this time.”
He bit his lip and focused on Twilight’s mane: “Y-yes...let’s go before I lose my nerve!”
Reaper grinned as he phased-out: “That’s the spirit!”
Twilight and Noble appeared a few seconds later in the antechamber containing Grey Thorn’s cell. Twilight stumbled forward and sat down heavily on her haunches: “Wow! Things do move around down here, don’t they?”
Reaper nodded: “Yes, even with your return runes, you’re going to have to watch out for the pull of the Pit.”
Noble shuddered and turned around in a circle in a vain attempt to avoid seeing the Pit: “It-it’s everywhere! How can anypony stand to be here?”
Twilight squinted and walked unsurely toward Grey Thorn: “They can’t--that’s the point of this place.”
Reaper nodded: “Punishment is supposed to be unpleasant, and this place has that in spades!”
Noble shielded the left side of his face with a hoof and wobbled forward to join Twilight: “Is this him?”
Twilight nodded, tipping her horn toward Grey Thorn’s shade: “That’s him; he’s why we’re down here.”
Reaper glanced between Twilight and Grey Thorn, and chewed the inside of his mouth: “Alright, I’ll leave you to it. I’ll come back down in a bit to check in and see how you’re doing. Please don’t overdo it--you have a wingpony now who’s not exactly acclimated to this sort of thing, yet.”
“I won’t. I don’t think I can stand too much time down here yet! I just want to break the ice.”
Reaper stared at Grey Thorn for a moment, then faded away, leaving Twilight and Noble Steel facing the shimmering shade, his eyes closed, leaned up against his cage.
A thin smile flickered across his ghostly lips: “So, how long has your friend been missing?”
Because I Could not Stop for Death
Zecora awoke from a fitful slumber and blinked dully at the strange interior of Gil’s hut, with its non-linear geometry, unreal colors, and alien knick-knacks and bones. Neither Gil nor Bramble were around, and she stood unsteadily and shook her head vigorously, before reaching for Solar Gleam’s saddlebag.
She removed a water bottle, pulled the stopper and took a sip, before noticing that Gil had silently appeared nearby. She swallowed and tipped her head to one side: “How long have you been there? I thought this hut was empty.”
Gil smiled wistfully: “It was. I can pass through any of the structures here in the compound now, without need of a door. It’s been that way for a while.”
“Does that mean you’re losing the last of your essence?”
He nodded: “Yes--it won’t be long now, maybe another few years at this rate.”
“Who’ll take over then?”
“Not sure. There’s really only one other being here with my knowledge of this Compound and the Vacuum, and some degree of what we would call magic on our world.”
“Given the way you’re describing them, I assume they’re not a pony. A griffin? Yak?”
“No, Kla'atra is not from our world. She was one of Grey Thorn’s earliest victims when he was hunting other realms through that mirror of his.”
Zecora raised an eyebrow: “A being from another world…”
Gil nodded: “Yes, it was quite remarkable when I first met her and several other beings. Only she and Squish remain.”
“Squish?”
“Kla'atra and I have spent centuries trying to figure out exactly what Squish is. Come--I’ll introduce you to some of the other ghostly members of our little community.”
He walked to the door as Zecora dropped the water bottle into her own bag and slung it over her neck. The door creaked open, and Zecora followed Gil out onto the dimly-lit sward that carpeted the Compound. Bramble joined them as they headed toward a round yurt made of metal scraps and hide. Some portions of the walls were translucent, and seemed out-of-focus to Zecora’s eyes.
“How did you get these structures to stay together? You have no physical presence, so…”
Gil smiled: “It took a little doing, but after I rested for a few days I was strong enough to focus my remaining magic, and manipulate the very real wreckage and flotsam that had been pulled into the Vacuum.”
He paused and pointed to the barrier wall surrounding the Compound: “The wall took ninety years to complete, and that was with Kla'atra and two other unicorns’ help.”
“And you only had this bit of, container? Shed? What is this thing you used as shelter?”
Gil turned back toward his hut: “That? It was once a piece of a ship that traveled between the stars. It was actually part of Kla'atra’s craft, and you will recognize the similarities when we enter her home.”
He angled back toward Kla'atra’s hut, then stopped: “I suppose I should warn you now--you’re going to find her very odd and off-putting initially.”
Zecora raised an eyebrow: “What do you mean?”
“Well, you may have your own interpretation of her appearance, but to me, she’s always looked rather like a large praying mantis.”
“She’s an insect?”
“Not exactly, though there are some similarities. For example, she has six limbs and a set of vestigial wings, akin to a dragonfly’s.”
Zecora’s eyebrows jumped: “That will be unusual! Can she speak?”
“Oh yes, though again, it will come across as somewhat artificial and stilted to you, since it’s being filtered through a speech center very different from ours. It took the two of us at least twenty years of concerted effort to really understand each other, and far longer than that to master our respective languages.”
“All while building this compound with the barest of magic?”
Gil grinned: “It was very tedious, but there wasn’t really much else to do, aside from avoiding the Sentinel.”
“Sounds awful!”
Gil shrugged as they stepped to the hatch leading inside Kla'atra’s yurt: “Could have been worse--could have gotten nabbed by the Sentinel to begin with!”
He slide the hatch open a crack and leaned forward: “Kla'atra? Are you here? I have a visitor here I think you’re really going to want to meet.”
The hatch slid further and Gil led Zecora inside the brightly-lit interior. Various surfaces appeared to give off a blush-white light, while others pulsated and shimmered, mirage-like, as though they weren’t entirely there.
Zecora squinted and blinked: “I don’t really understand what I’m seeing--some of these tables or benches hurt to look at, as though I can’t bring them into proper focus!”
A mottled green-and-gold creature, roughly two yards long stepped into view, moving on six, multi-jointed legs. It stopped and rose up on its hindmost pair and turned its large, silvery, almond-shaped eyes toward Zecora: “They would have never fully phased back from the attack that was to have brought me to this place.”
Gil held a hoof out and pointed from Zecora to Kla'atra and back: “Allow me to introduce our guest--this is Zecora. And this is my oldest friend, Kla'atra.”
Kla'atra bowed slightly, bending at the juncture of a pair of segments: “I am honored to have made your acquaintance. I am assuming you are the living pony which was to have been pulled entirely in through the rift, as would have been reported by Bramble.”
Zecora furrowed her brow: “Um, yes. I was pulled inside several hours ago during a battle with the Void.”
“Void?”
Gil nodded: “Yes--that’s what they call the Vacuum on the outside. Her friend sealed the breach, stranding Zecora in here.”
Kla'atra made a grinding, clicking noise, and tipped her head sideways: “How unfortunate this may be. It will to be most likely that she may have starved or be dying of thirst within a week or so.”
Zecora patted her bag: “I have water here and food in Solar Gleam’s saddle bag that should last me for at least ten days.”
Gil shook his head: “Under normal circumstances you might well be right, but in here, the Vacuum will take its toll, and undoubtedly accelerate your normal processes of aging and metabolism as it draws away your life essence. The aging’s not really the problem, but ten days of food and water may not last you five.”
Kla'atra worked her mandibles in apparent agreement: “We have never made sight of a creature of your size and life force before, but smaller living things shall have withered at a greatly-hastened rate.”
Zecora smiled grimly: “Well I guess I’ll just have to hurry then, won’t I?”
Kla'atra tipped her head again: “Hurry?”
Gil nodded: “Yes--Zecora hopes to escape.”
“Do you have belief that those outside the Vacuum might be assisting with your possible escape?”
The zebra shrugged: “Not sure, but I would think so, assuming they were able to secure the Void and return it to the creation chamber. I’m sure Twilight could sense I was still alive and fighting.”
Gil sat down: “Yes--her story jibes with Bramble’s account of a massive breach and forced closure. If Zecora’s right, and the Sentinel’s as weakened by the attack as Bramble seems to think, then there might be a chance.”
“But by what route should shall she have escaped?”
Gil shrugged: “I don’t really see an option--she’ll have to go up through the Swamp and attempt to force a breach at the Juncture. Hopefully we can get her close enough before the Sentinel recovers.”
Zecora furrowed her brow: “Juncture?”
Kla'atra nodded: “The point at which the Sentinel would have made its connection with the inner surface of the Vacuum itself.”
Zecora tipped her head to one side: “If…?”
Gil looked between Zecora and Kla’atra with a puzzled expression: “If what?”
“She said ‘would have made’--if not for what? Or did it make its connection there once?”
Gli’s eyes suddenly grew wide, and he chuckled: “Ah! The whole verb tense issue! I understand!”
Zecora’s brow furrowed further: “‘Issue?’”
Gil took a deep breath: “Kla’atra’s species is one of six sentient races on her home world. It is a violent, contentious place, based on the stories she’s told, and her race, the Yönti , have long been hunted as prey by two of the other races.”
“How barbaric!”
“Yes, well it’s had two interesting effects: it’s made them amazingly adaptable, and it imbued them with no sense of future as they developed language and early culture. Their language has no real future tense--not much of a past tense, either.”
“Then how--”
“By use of the conditional future. Everything you or I assume will happen tomorrow, simply as a matter of course, might happen for a Yönti. And to make matters worse, they have at least five layers of condition that I still have never entirely worked out.”
Zecora’s eyebrows jumped: “Still? After all these centuries?”
“Oh, it gets worse. The Yönti are no longer a hivemind, but much of their development took place in a rigid, hierarchical hive structure spread among seven, shifting genders.”
“Seven?!”
Gil nodded sympathetically: “Yes, seven. So when I call Kla’atra ‘she’ it is largely as a convenience for you. Our concept of the female sex aligns as closely as it can with Kla’atra.”
Kla’atra’s silvery eyes flickered for a moment: “And do not presume to begin starting a discussion of you ponies and your bizarre gender roles and masculine/feminine dynamics.”
Gil grinned: “Yes, she’s never understood how I can presume to affect the role of the masculine when I am so clearly küpu !”
Kla’atra’s eyes flickered again and she made a metallic, hissing noise. Zecora rocked back in alarm.
Gil waved a hoof dismissively: “She’s just laughing--no need to worry.”
“‘Küpu?’”
Gil chuckled: “It took me almost two hundred years to get that joke. I suspect you’d have starved long before I could even begin to explain it!”
Zecora smiled: “So back to the Swamp and the Sentinel. Can this be done? Has anypony ever tried anything like this?”
Gil glanced at Kla’atra and shrugged: “Not that we know of, but the Sentinel has been very battered of late, and even though it has fresh victims--”
“Green Streak, Top Cover and Solar Gleam.”
“Yes. Even that is an inhibitor. You can think of the Sentinel as a snake, in some ways: when it is sated and absorbing its victims’ essences, it becomes less active.”
Kla’atra nodded: “It is for then that Bramble could inform us and sometimes we would to effect a rescue of the remaining spirits of those victims who would not be entirely consumed.”
“Those now in the Compound.”
“Mostly, yes. Some escaped on their own, but the majority over the centuries are here because Bramble and Kla’atra, and some other unicorns through the years, were able to pry a spirit away from the Swamp while there was something left.”
Kla’atra tipped her head to one side as her eyes flashed: “Speaking of, what has become of Bramble? I am not to have seen him for some time.”
Gil looked around the yurt and shrugged: “Don’t know--it appears he slipped out a bit ago. I’m not concerned, per se, but I would like him here as we start to sketch-out plans.”
“Can you call to him? Can you communicate at a distance?”
“A bit, though my ‘voice’ doesn’t travel like it once did.”
Zecora grinned: “Well, I have lungs, perhaps I should shout!”
Gil smiled sadly: “To no avail--I’m fairly sure you’re mute.”
Zecora raised an eyebrow: “No--I can hear my voice when I speak aloud. The only odd thing is I no longer rhyme.”
“Your friend cast a very powerful sealing and binding spell, yes?”
“Yes…”
“And you were directly in its path, and drenched in her blood. Can I assume you took some in your mouth?”
“A bit.”
“Honestly it’s a miracle you didn’t suffocate on the spot!”
“But, I can hear--”
“Just as we can ‘hear’ your voice, too. But it’s not being produced by vocal cords, just as we’re not processing it with ears. I’m sure you’re pushing air through your throat, but it’s likely producing little more than a croak or a hiss.”
Kla’atra leaned forward, her eyes flashing then darkening: “Yes--I will be testing this theory.”
She raised a pair of three-fingered appendages and traced a series of glyphs in the air while humming a series of notes. A gossamer film appeared in front of Zecora, hovering like a scrap of spider-web.
Kla’atra pointed at the web: “You should be speaking into this lattice. It would catch whatever vibrations you shall make.”
Zecora squinted at the shimmering patch in front of her: “Like this? How much do I need to say? Should I be loud?”
Kla’atra peered closely at the web while Zecora was speaking, then she raised a finger: “You may now make an ending.”
Zecora leaned back as Kla’atra’s lattice dissolved. The Yönti’s eyes flashed silver and white and black for several seconds as she hummed several more notes. A moment later an enlarged, high-contrast projection of the web appeared in the air, rotating and vibrating.
Gil tipped his head sideways and rubbed his chin: “Yes, it’s as I assumed--there’s no coherent form to the vibrations, and hardly any energy. You are functionally mute.”
Zecora furrowed her brow: “But I can hear myself!”
Gil smiled: “Do you not hear yourself in dreams?”
“Well, yes, but--”
“And do you always speak in rhymes in your dreams?”
“No, not always.”
“I believe the two are connected. As I said, this place shares many things in common with the Dreamscape--in fact it was initially constructed in imitation of that realm. As a result much of what you perceive here is akin to lucid dreaming.”
“So this is actually a dream?”
Gil shook his head: “No. Think of the experience of hearing your ‘voice’ as a hallucination, or aural illusion. The auditory center of your brain is perceiving your own speech as it does ours. Clearly we have no true voices, yet you ‘hear’ us perfectly well.”
“I hope this isn’t permanent!”
“I doubt it. I’m sure your friend will be able to undo the spell’s effect, assuming we can figure out how to get you out of here.”
Suddenly Bramble came through the hatch, followed by the trembling, disheveled shade of a mint-green pegasus: “I just met a pony who may be able to help with that!”
Zecora, Gil and Kla’atra turned to face the little unicorn who pointed at his disoriented companion: “Everypony, this is the late Green Streak!”
Because I Could not Stop for Death
The disoriented pegasus peered around the interior of the hut and furrowed her brow at Kla’atra: “I’m--I’m, um, Flight Lieutenant Green Streak…wh-where am I?”
Gil stood and gestured for Green Streak and Bramble to enter the room: “You are in the only relatively-safe enclave in this realm. Welcome to the Compound--I’m Gil.”
“Am--am I dead?”
Gil nodded: “Yes.”
He turned to Bramble: “How did you get her out?”
Bramble shrugged: “The Sentinel is in bad shape right now, and the Swamp is almost unwatched, as far as I can tell. I saw her lying along the lowest terrace, fading in and out.”
Gil frowned: “So you tapped her with a bit of your own energy and got her to reintegrate. That was very risky of you!”
“I know, but you and Kla’atra are busy with Zecora, and I thought I’d take a few minutes to investigate, as long as the Sentinel’s still weak from the rupture. I wasn’t looking for victims, but finding Green Streak was just too good to pass up.”
Green Streak struggled to focus on the various faces around her. She turned to Zecora: “I-I recognize you--I’ve seen your picture in briefings. But…”
Zecora nodded: “The others here are Gil, the colt is Bramble, and our otherworldly friend is Kla’atra.”
Green Streak blinked slowly and faded in and out briefly: “Is--is Top Cover here?”
Gil frowned at Bramble: “That must be the pegasus who was pulled in just before Green Streak, yes?”
Bramble nodded.
Gil glanced at Zecora: “You mentioned that name a bit ago, as I recall, but we never knew it until now; the Sentinel pulled him in directly and extracted his essence almost immediately.”
He turned back to Green Streak and shook his head sadly: “Unfortunately, the creature that dwells in this place and is tied to it hooked your friend and absorbed his spirit and essence before we even had a chance to figure out what was happening.”
Green Streak shuddered violently: “Absorbed? Is--is that what it was doing to me? It--it was awful! It was like drowning in freezing water! I could feel everything getting cold and dark, but couldn’t swim or struggle!”
“Yes. Given more time in what we call the Swamp, it would have processed you as well, sucking away your very essence to feed itself and sustain this place.”
“Th-then what?”
Gil raised an eyebrow: “Then nothing. Your essence, your spirit, the very energy that makes you who you are--who you were--would have been destroyed and absorbed by the Sentinel to fuel its existence. You would cease to be.”
Green Streak faded in and out again, then sat down: “How--how long?”
“What? How long does that take? It seems to depend on the age and vitality of the spirit. Somepony young and vital like you might last for months before ultimately succumbing to the Sentinel’s appetite. Most of Grey Thorn’s victims over the years tended to be old and weak. They were really the only ponies susceptible to dying in their sleep.”
Green Streak nodded absently and turned toward Zecora: “Then how are you still alive?”
“The Void was breached when a group of us attacked it several hours ago. As its surface was blown open I was pulled inside whole.”
Green Streak furrowed her brow: “Attacked? Is there a chance of another strike? Do they know you’re here?”
“I’m sure they do, though I don’t really know if there’s anything they can do to help from the outside. Grey Thorn is dead, and only Twilight knows anything about this place--and it took everything she had just to seal the breach!”
Gil nodded: “Yes, which is an impressive feat by itself. As for getting help from beyond the confines of the Vacuum, I don’t know. This is a self-contained realm wrapped in a nearly-perfect shell of negation. The only time we ever knew of anything occurring beyond its boundary was when Grey Thorn would hunt down a new victim.”
Kla’atra’s eyes shined silvery-blue for a moment, and she folded her long, elegant forelimbs together: “But things are to be changing since the last few months. The Vacuum shall have been penetrated twice and had to have experienced great damage and upheaval.”
Zecora’s nostrils flared and her eyes glittered: “All the more reason to get moving soon! I have no idea if any help is coming, though knowing Twilight and Celestia, I’m sure there will be an effort made. But I’ve spent my life getting in and out of danger on my own in the Everfree Forest, and I’m entirely capable of doing so again!”
Gil smiled: “Well, not entirely on your own. We will assist as best as we can. Your situation is unique, but you’re still likely to face the same basic obstacles anypony would in here: the slow, constant drain of the Vacuum, and the presence of the Sentinel.”
Bramble nodded: “And it’s none-too-sprightly right now! I’d noted Green Streak in the Swamp before, and I’ve never seen a spirit just slide free like that.”
Gil tapped his hooves together and looked at Zecora: “Yes, I suspect the same blood that struck you mute had a very debilitating effect on the Sentinel.”
Green Streak stepped uncertainly to a small window and peered out: “What will happen if she manages to escape? How will that thing--that Sentinel--react? Will you have to attack it?”
“No, we can’t attack it directly--we don’t have the energy or the tools, honestly. We’re going to--”
Zecora cut him off and patted the pouch slung across her shoulder: “I do. Between this and Solar’s saddlebag, I have quite a cache of potions and compounds. I may be able to actually affect that thing.”
Kla’atra’s eyes dimmed and turned a dull gold for a few moments before flashing silvery-white again: “This will be changing things--never in prior attemptings has anyone to have possessed actual materials that should be affecting the Sentinel.”
Gil nodded: “That’s true. Any time any of us have ever confronted the Sentinel--rare as that is--it’s always been through magic or psionics.”
Zecora furrowed her brow as she spread several vials and bags and tubes out on the floor: “Psionics?”
Gil took a deep breath: “You’re aware, no doubt, that we exist in a world rich in magic.”
“Of course.”
“We unicorns were the first to become dimly aware of this millennia ago, and we began to manipulate and focus this magic as our innate ability.”
He pointed at Green Streak: “Pegasi were likely next. Paleontology shows their wings at a more primitive stage long ago, and they undoubtedly couldn’t fly.”
Green Streak turned from the window and shook her head: “We still shouldn’t be able to. Any cadet who’s done the math can tell you that.”
Gil nodded: “Correct--the ratio of mass-to-wing-to-lift isn’t great enough for even proper gliding, yet glide and fly they do. They developed their own response to our world’s magical abundance, and use it to manipulate the air around them.”
Zecora chewed her lip: “What of earth ponies? And me?”
Gil smiled: “As with pegasi, earth ponies are far too strong and fast given their skeletons and musculature. They too, use magic unconsciously to augment their natural strength and stamina.”
He pointed at Zecora’s potions and supplies: “And you are likely akin to an early unicorn in your magical development. You have developed tools and techniques to consciously and directly manipulate the magic around you, since you cannot simply tap into it the way a unicorn would. It’s crude, but clearly effective!”
Kla’atra leaned forward: “I have to been on many worlds before Grey Thorn made to ambush and kill me. I never am seeing magic of the sort this world possesses.”
Gil nodded: “And Grey Thorn spoke on several occasions of the same thing: no traces of magic on any of the several worlds he had seen. Ours may well be a unique world, suffused with magic, all creatures manifesting it as surely as they breathe.”
“Then what is ‘psionics?’”
Gil grinned: “Right--that! The Yönti believe they evolved the ability to use their minds to generate tangible effects in the material world as a defense against predators. It functions much like magic to a unicorn, but without the need for any materials or spells or the like.”
Kla’atra’s eyes flashed pale blue for a moment: “We Yönti were once to have been a hivemind, and shall have developed these defensive mental powers in service to the brood. But over time, as we would have been developing separate, individual identities, most of us also would have been developing discrete psionic powers, apart from the brood.”
Gil tapped his temple: “And since this power flows from the mind, it exists independent of any need for materials or supplies or magical fields. Unfortunately she’s had to be careful using her powers over the centuries, since she’s no longer alive, and so has no way to recharge. Every use erodes her essence a bit.”
Zecora furrowed her brow: “But aren’t you in the same situation?”
“Essentially, yes, though because the Vacuum does exist within the confines of our world, it still adheres to some of the basic rules--gravity, for instance. And the magic that permeates the world at-large has its echoes in here. I’m wearing away, too, just not quite as quickly.”
Zecora began to replace the items spread before her into her bag: “And you said the same will happen to me.”
“Yes--your living body is both a blessing and a curse. I’m certain it will generate great interest from the Sentinel, but it also gives you a reserve of energy nopony else here possesses.”
Zecora slung her bag around her neck and stood: “So when do we go?”
Gil smiled: “I understand your eagerness, Zecora, but I want to round up another couple of denizens of the Compound and get their opinions first.”
Kla’atra looked between Zecora and Gil: “Who is it that you are thinking of making consultation?”
Gil tapped his chin: “I’d like to have Green Streak talk to Radiant Dawn.”
The pegasus furrowed her brow: “Who?”
“She’s the only occupant of this place to escape the Swamp--”
Bramble interrupted: “Well, who still exists, anyway.”
“True. There have been a few others over the centuries, but she’s the only one who still retains a trace of sentience. I’d like her to compare notes with you, Green Streak, to see if we can get a better sense of the Sentinel’s state.”
Green Streak flared her wings and wobbled unsteadily: “I’ll help any way I can. It’s too late for me and Top Cover, but if there’s anything I can do, just tell me.”
Gil nodded: “That’s greatly appreciated. I know this is all very disorienting, and isn’t what anypony would ever want after they die. I wouldn’t blame you if you just found a corner to curl up in--it’s how a lot of ponies have ended their days.”
“That’s not how I was trained, sir; I was trained to fight until I couldn’t fight anymore.”
She looked sadly at the spectral forms around her: “Or even after that, it seems…”
Gil stood and drifted toward the yurt’s hatch: “Well then, let’s head out and find Radiant--” he turned toward Bramble: “and Squish as well. Have you seen it lately?”
Bramble’s horn glowed as the hatch slid open and he stepped through, followed by Green Streak: “Not in several days, actually. It’s been harder to find since Grey Thorn and the Harbinger breached the Vacuum.”
Zecora stepped out after Green Streak: “This is the second time somepony has mentioned ‘Squish.’ Who or what is ‘Squish?’”
Gil floated through the hatch and nodded: “That’s right--I forgot to finish that story--” He turned back to look at Kla’atra, still inside her hut: “You coming?”
Kla’atra’s eyes flashed gold for a moment as she watched Zecora walk across the sward: “I could likely be joining you at Radiant’s hut shortly.”
Gil nodded and turned away as the hatch silently slid shut.
Because I Could not Stop for Death
Twilight scowled at Grey Thorn: “How do you know somepony’s missing?”
Grey Thorn tipped his head to one side and opened his eyes: “Well, if they were merely dead the errand colt would have taken care of them and filled you in on the boring details, yes?”
Twilight bit her lip: “I suppose so, yes.”
“So who is it?”
“A friend of mine named Zecora. She was leading the team sent to retrieve your awful creation, when there was an accident, and she was pulled inside it.”
Grey Thorn shrugged: “So she is dead, then…”
“No--she was pulled in intact through a tear or breach in the surface of that thing. I collapsed and restrained it, and could tell she was fighting from the other side to do the same. She’s alive.”
Grey Thorn furrowed his brow: “‘Restrained it how? How was it breached in the first place?”
Noble Steel stepped forward: “Zecora struck it point-blank with a fully-charged crystal lance as it was stripping Solar Gleam of his essence. The lance exploded, tearing open the surface, enveloping her in the blast. She was pulled inside as the Void collapsed inward around the breach.”
Grey Thorn chewed his lip for a few moments: “It has never been directly attacked before. How did it it respond?”
“It broke free of the suppression field Reaper had put around it earlier, then surged, and my commander, another pegasus and I took a second pass at it, trying to hit it from multiple directions…”
A cold smile spread across Grey Thorn’s lips: “But?”
Noble closed his eyes as his ears drooped: “It all went sideways--Smudge was killed, the Captain had a wing torn off and I was blown across the cave.”
He turned to Twilight: “Shatter and I would have died with Smudge if Twilight hadn’t saved us.”
“Touching. Then how did you escape my creation?”
Twilight touched Noble gently with a wing tip: “I stopped time.”
Grey Thorn raised an eyebrow: “Impressive for one of your tender years! Even I never mastered the intricacies of stopping time for more than a few moments.”
Twilight sighed heavily: “I was invested with Death’s power, and at the moment Smudge died I was able to suspend everything in the immediate area.”
She looked pointedly at Grey Thorn: “I believe you’ve already experienced the effect.”
Grey Thorn glowered: “Yes. And now I perceive the answer to a question that’s been nagging me for some time--how is it that you're alive? The Harbinger himself must have resurrected you.”
Twilight nodded: “And imbued me with half his power in the process.”
“Luna as well, I take it.”
“Yes. That’s why they were on another world: they were trying to get his power back.”
“Clearly they succeeded, but for a time you had his power, and it must have manifested for you to use it like that.”
She shuddered: “I was the Harbinger for a time, until they returned successfully. He, umm, took back his power, then.”
Grey Thorn raised an eyebrow: “A story for another time, clearly. For now, I’d like to know--”
Twilight interrupted: “I need to know some things first! I need to know if we can communicate inside that thing, how to open it, how to--”
Grey Thorn cut her off in turn: “I believe I have the advantage, here, and you will tell me what I want to know, first. Then I may repay you with a bit of insight or intelligence.”
Twilight’s ears drooped: “Dammit, we don’t have time for this, I need--”
“I have all the time in the world, such as it is. Your friend will die at some point no matter what you do, and from my perspective, it will happen quite soon, whether it’s a few days or a few decades. I’m a patient specter.”
Twilight closed her eyes and bit her lip: “Fine. What do you want to know?”
Grey Thorn tipped his head sideways: “Oh, many things, but the thing of greatest interest to me right now is how you mastered my creation.”
Twilight took a deep breath and opened her eyes slowly: “I sensed Smudge’s imminent death, and appeared in the cavern where Zecora and her team were fighting the Void. I saw--”
“No--show me.”
Twilight furrowed her brow: “Show you?”
“Yes. You are--well, were , rather--a unicorn of some ability, yes? So I assume you have acquired the skill of projection. This place is a realm of shadows and phantasms and waking dreams.”
Twilight glanced around furtively: “Yes--I’ve noticed.”
Grey Thorn smiled wanly: “It’s a part of the dark, punishing charm of this place. As a result a projection of your memories should be especially vivid .”
Twilight licked her lips nervously: “That’s what I’m afraid of…”
“Show me the moment you wrestled with my creation and took control.”
Twilight sighed as her horn began to glow a pale lavender, and a shimmering image formed in the air above and before her. She was back in the cavern, the cacophonous scene cutting swiftly from crisis to crisis: roof collapsing on Noble Steel, Shatter hurtling past in a spray of blood and feathers, Smudge’s last breath rattling in her throat.
Twilight furrowed her brow, and Noble shrank back against a rough archway as the interim Harbinger’s boomed out her word of power and the whole awful spectacle froze.
Grey Thorn’s eyes widened while the point-of-view shifted from place to place as Twilight resolved Smudge, Noble, Shatter and Solar Gleam, coming to rest on the swelling, surging Void at last.
“But I am no normal, living pony! ”
Twilight winced as she watched her past self cut her wrists, the blood welling and dripping before being sucked away by the Void’s dark tendrils. Her horn coursed with pulses and blooms of dark magic.
Grey Thorn’s eyes flicked swiftly between the projected vision of Twilight’s magic and crimson-wrapped sword seizing control of the Void, and the reaction of the living, quivering, panting Twilight before him.
“I bind you now to my will! ”
Grey Thorn narrowed his eyes as vision-Twilight traced out bloody glyphs on the floor in front of the Void: “Stop! Suspend this memory!”
Twilight started and took in a sharp breath through flared nostrils. The image froze: “What? Why?”
Grey Thorn strained against the spectral bars of his cage: “What are those symbols you traced in blood? The image is blurred.”
“Shoiman’s glyphs.”
Grey Thorn tipped his head to one side: “Concerning Pony Longevity or Glyphs of Warding ?”
“Glyphs of Warding . I don’t, umm, have access to Concerning Pony Longevity anymore.”
“And you scribed them in the right order, under duress, from memory? I assume it was from memory--I see no notes.”
Twilight bit her lip and turned back toward the paused vision: “I actually memorized the entire tome.”
Grey Thorn’s eyebrows jumped: “You memorized Glyphs in the short time you must have had it? Impressive! And even that tome would not have explicitly told you the order of scribing.”
“No, it doesn’t. I had worked out the basics a few days earlier, but had to take a chance that I was going to get it right at the moment I used the spell.”
Grey Thorn nodded: “Finish the scene. I assume it ends shortly.”
Twilight sighed and the scene resumed with the Void contracting, glistening and throwing off beams of violet and black energy. The vision dimmed as Twilight-in-the-past dropped to the floor, exhausted and groggy, unsteadily tracking the descending Void on its path to the cave floor.
“Not this time! ”
Twilight took a deep, shuddering breath and closed her eyes as the the Void settled into its restraining basin again. The vision flickered and faded away as Twilight’s horn went dark.
“That’s it. Have you seen enough?”
“Yes, though it raised more questions than it answered. But I only have one, right now.”
Twilight opened her eyes, turned toward Grey Thorn and glared: “I showed you what you wanted to see, now you have to answer my question!”
Grey Thorn smiled: “Strictly speaking I never really asked a question. I will now, or perhaps you can come back later.”
Twilight ground her teeth: “Fine. Ask.”
Grey Thorn leaned back and slowly closed his eyes: “When you backed away, after plunging your horn into my creation’s surface, and scribed the glyphs, it appears that you rose into the air as you achieved domination.”
“That’s not a question.”
Grey Thorn chuckled: “True. When you entered the final stage of mastery, at the moment of maximum tension, as the balance tipped to your favor, did you experience some sort of release? It certainly appeared so from this perspective.”
Twilight’s ears drooped and she glanced away: “Wh-what are you talking about?”
Grey Thorn opened his eyes: “I had that experience many times--a sense of nearly unbearable tension, then sudden, shocking release. It often left me quite lightheaded, and occasionally I might vomit or nearly faint, but frequently I would climax. I kept a cloth in my satchel for just such an occurrence.”
He grinned and nodded toward Twilight’s flank: “Of course, that really wouldn’t be an issue for you. So, what of you? What did you feel , Princess?”
Twilight shifted nervously; Noble closed his eyes and fought off a sudden wave of vertigo.
“Well?”
Twilight chewed her lip for a few moments: “Y-Yes. I had an orgasm.”
A thin smile spread across Grey Thorn’s face: “And did you fight to prolong it?”
Twilight blushed and swallowed, her mouth dry: “Yes. The rush of blood, the feel of power flowing from me and into me from the Void. I was wracked with waves of energy and...and…”
“Pleasure.”
Her voice fell to a whisper: “Yes.”
“And did it surprise you?”
Twilight squeezed her eyes shut and fought to regain control of her trembling legs. She slowed her breathing and flared her wings for a moment.
Grey Thorn leaned forward against his cage: “Did it? Did it shock you, shame you?”
“No--not really.”
“How so?”
“Because I had felt something very much like it just minutes before.”
Grey Thorn arched an eyebrow: “Really? Tell me about--”
Twilight stamped a hoof: “No! My turn! Is there a way into that damned thing? Can it be the way out?”
Grey Thorn’s eyes widened in surprise for a moment, then the haughty smile returned to his ghostly lips: “That’s really two questions, but I’ll let it go, since they’re obviously opposite sides of the same coin.”
Twilight rolled her eyes: “How magnanimous of you.”
“As for ‘in,’ of course there’s a way in--at least there used to be. Naturally I had to get in and out of it frequently during its construction.”
“It’s constructed? Like a machine?”
Grey Thorn wagged a hoof: “Ah, ah, ah--no cheating! We’ll discuss that later! As I was saying, I would enter it frequently in the beginning, but not once it was fully-functioning. After that I know it would open a sort of port or rift, enough to draw in essences--”
“Or whole bodies…”
“Yes, or even entire bodies, occasionally…”
“Green Streak and Top Cover.”
“Celestia’s doomed flyers, I take it.”
“Yes.”
Grey Thorn shrugged: “The fools got too close, as apparently did your friend.”
“Can she get out the same way?”
“And here’s why I let you ask a double question: I doubt it, but I do not know.”
“What?”
“The entity that dwells at the heart of my creation--really is the heart, in many ways--has its own interconnection to the shell that forms the external presence. I don’t know how, or where it makes that connection.”
“Wait--so you don’t know how that fucking thing works?!”
Grey Thorn steepled his hooves: ”I didn’t say that. I said I don’t know precisely how it is merged with the outer, shall we say, manifestation of my creation.”
“So how, precisely , did you make this thing in the first place?”
Grey Thorn shook his head: “That’s a new question. To finish the last question, I don’t know if the interconnection physically expresses in such a way to allow for a living thing to pass through it.”
“But it might?”
Grey Thorn shrugged: “I never thought about it. And now I think we’re done for the time being.”
“No--I still have a lot more questions!”
Grey Thorn’s lips bent again in a cold smile as he tipped his horn toward Noble Steel, still slumped against the archway, breathing heavily: “I believe that’s enough for today. I don’t think your companion is looking too good.”
Twilight glanced at Noble and gritted her teeth: “Fine. I’ll be back soon, and you’d better be ready to give me more.”
“Tit for tat, Princess--I have quite a list of new topics to explore based on our little talk, so far. It’s been fascinating, and I look forward to learning more about, well, a lot of things, to use your phrase.”
Twilight glared at Grey Thorn as she turned toward Noble: “I need more, and I need it fast!”
She walked over to Steel and pulled him away from the archway: “Wake up, wingpony--we have to get you out of here for a bit.”
Noble shook his head clear and squinted at Twilight: “How many hops back to the surface?”
“One to the wall where we phase, two after that, then we levitate up the shaft. We should be back out in about fifteen minutes. You OK to go?”
The unicorn nodded weakly: “Y-yeah. I just need a breather, then we can come back and get some real answers.”
He turned unsteadily toward Grey Thorn: “This bastard’s using you, Twilight…”
Twilight’s eyes hardened as she glanced over her shoulder: “Yes. And I’m using him; tit for tat, isn’t that right, G.T.?”
They disappeared in a violet flash, leaving Grey Thorn alone. He smiled and turned back toward the area where Twilight had been projecting. His phantom horn glowed a pale gold, and Twilight’s memories flickered again before him, hanging in the air like shimmering, multi-hued gossamer.
“Tit for tat, Princess…”
Because I Could not Stop for Death
Reaper rubbed his muzzle: “So he’s not sure if there’s a way out?”
Twilight shook her head wearily: “As he put it, he’s unsure precisely how the thing inside--whatever that is--is connected to the exterior, visible part I interacted with.”
Celestia furrowed her brow: “Do you think he’s lying?”
Twilight sighed: “No, I just think he’s dragging this out as long as he can. He wants to ask me a ton of questions, so he’s going to keep dishing out information a few morsels at a time.”
Reaper nodded: “And the dead can’t lie. They can dissemble and elude and go silent, but they can’t lie.”
Celestia raised an eyebrow skeptically: “Not even somepony as versed in death and hiding from it as Grey Thorn?”
“No, not even him. Now, that’s not to say he’s going to be open and forthcoming--not at all! But it does mean that when pushed, he can’t tell an out-and-out falsehood.”
Twilight took a drink of tea and swirled the cup: “I know he’s not lying, but he’s stalling, and that’s almost as bad.”
Celestia put her cup down: “Why? Is he hoping to take so long that Zecora dies? Some sort of revenge thing?”
Twilight shook her head: “I honestly don’t think he cares about Zecora one way or the other, he just wants company, an audience, a sparring partner.”
She finished off the last of her tea and turned toward Luna: “Think about it: he’s been essentially alone for centuries, constantly in the company of that thing of his, obsessing over you from a distance, Luna.”
Luna furrowed her brow: “Not me, strictly speaking--he lusted after Nightmare Moon.”
Reaper nodded: “Right, and with her out of the picture, we’re just going to have to redouble our efforts to make contact inside the Void, and let Twilight chip away at Grey Thorn best as she can.”
Celestia tapped her chin: “Speaking of--what are your thoughts regarding penetrating that thing?”
Luna took a deep breath: “Reaper and I have been mulling that over for some time, and we believe he may be able to make a connection through the Void that I can utilize to reach Zecora’s mind.”
“Won’t she have to be asleep for that?”
Reaper shrugged: “Don’t know. Also don’t know if there’s going to be any two-way communication, or if Luna’s just going to be talking into the silent dark.”
Luna nodded: “We can but try and see what can be achieved.”
Celestia gestured toward Twilight: “Grey Thorn indicated it could be opened, yes?”
“Yes, but he didn’t say how.”
Reaper leaned forward: “And I’ve been through just such an opening once, of course, so I have a sense of what it feels like to pass through that boundary.”
Celestia furrowed her brow: “Isn’t there a danger you could get pulled in, too?”
Reaper shook his head: “No, because I’m not going to try to actually get in in a literal sense. Also, Twilight did a first-rate job sealing and binding the Void. It can’t swallow me, or anypony else, unless Twilight relaxes the restraints and controls it.”
“Which I won’t even attempt until I get a lot more information out of Grey Thorn.”
Celestia turned toward Noble Steel: “And how are you holding up, Lieutenant?”
Steel emptied his mug of cider: “About as well as can be expected, Your Highness. I’ve been through some pretty rough stuff recently, but down there, right up against the Pit--I don’t know. It’s just so draining and disorienting.”
Twilight smiled: “He’s doing fine! It’s disorienting and frightening for me, too, but it helps to have another pony nearby to keep me anchored.”
Celestia nodded: “And Grey Thorn doesn’t mind having him there?”
Twilight shrugged: “I don’t think he really cares, as long as it’s not Reaper or Luna, and he kind of stays in the background.”
Steel chuckled: “Fine by me! He’s a real piece of work, and I’d just as soon not interact with him if I don’t have to.”
Celestia furrowed her brow: “That’s my concern as well. We know next-to-nothing about Grey Thorn, and even I only recall seeing ‘Bramble’ a few times, centuries ago. I’m worried about anypony spending time around him.”
Twilight took a sip of tea and nodded: “I don’t like it either, but as I pointed out to Noble, he’s using me and I’m using him. As long as I can get useful information out of him, it’s worth the risk. Besides, it’s not like he has any real power anymore, right?”
Reaper chewed his lip: “Well, not the way you mean, no, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t still dangerous.”
“I understand, and I don’t plan to go back down for a bit in any event. Noble and I both need a breather, and I don’t think Grey Thorn would talk right now anyway.”
Reaper nodded: “Good, because Luna and I need about an hour of your time in the creation chamber. We want your assistance in our first attempt to make contact inside the Void.”
Twilight stood: “Good idea. I’ve been itching to do something--anything--that feels like it’ll directly help Zecora. I’m sure this’ll just be a small step, but it’s something.”
She turned towards Noble: “You should come, too.”
Celestia nodded: “You three go ahead--I’d like to speak to the Lieutenant for a minute.”
Luna and Reaper stood as well and vanished from the room along with Twilight, leaving the young unicorn standing with a confused look on his face.
“How can I help, Your Highness?”
Celestia smiled: “Please just call me Princess; ‘Highness’ is so stuffy. May I call you Noble?”
Noble nodded: “Yes, ma’am, that or Steel.”
“Thank you, Noble, and thank you for being there for Twilight. She’s had a very rough few months, and I’m glad she has someone to accompany her, closer to her age.”
“Ma’am?”
Celestia steepled her hooves: “Luna, Reaper and I are all ancient, and have very different perspectives on things from normal ponies.”
“But Twilight’s a Princess, too.”
“True, but she’s still quite young and uncertain of her place in the world. It makes me feel better knowing she has someone more like her to lend her a hoof. She has centuries to fully grow into her power and immortality; I’d like her to just be Twilight as long as she can.”
“I’m glad to help in any way I can.” He chewed his lip for a moment: “It’s just odd to think of her as immortal, as young as she is.”
Celestia nodded and swirled the tea in her cup: “She is young, and she will remain young in many ways for far longer than you or her peers.”
She gazed up at the ceiling: “I recall feeling that young, long, long ago. Even a thousand years ago it still hadn’t entirely sunk in.”
“Do you clearly remember those days?”
Celestia took a deep breath: “Yes and no. I recall what it felt like, and I remember many specific undertakings and acts, but so many day-to-day things have faded. It takes an effort to pull them into focus.”
She took a sip of tea: “This thing with Bramble, for instance. I can only really recall seeing him with Starswirl a few times. I knew he was the old wizard’s ward of sorts, and I was distracted with bigger things, so I never gave it much thought.”
“‘Bigger things’--Luna?”
“Yes. Her slide into darkness was becoming apparent, and I was growing more and more distant from Starswirl, as well. So a little thing like a an orphan colt following Starswirl around just didn’t register.”
“What do you remember, ma’am?”
“He always seemed eager to help, eager to ask questions, never strayed far from his mentor. He seemed tinged with sadness. I never looked into it; I wish I had, now.”
Celestia fell silent and stared down into her cup, probing at the lees with her magic.
Noble shifted uncomfortably for a few moments: “Well, I suppose I should join the others in case there’s any way I can help. With your leave, ma’am?”
Celestia looked up with a smile: “By all means, Noble--thank you for staying to talk for a few minutes.”
Noble nodded as his horn brightened: “Anytime, Princess!”
Celestia stared out the window at the lengthening afternoon shadows as Noble’s flash faded.
Luna, Twilight and Reaper stood before a large, featureless, matte-black ball, wrapped in magenta and glossy black bands, sitting in a shallow, magenta basin.
Twilight scratched her chin: “Now what? I don’t mean to brag, but I did a damn fine job containing this thing!”
Reaper grinned: “True, but I can phase into it all the same.”
“Okay, but to what end? Won’t you just end up trapped like Zecora?”
“No--at least I don’t think so. Do you recall when we were in Starswirl’s secret library and I stuck my head through the back wall?”
Twilight nodded.
“That’s the intent here as well. I’m just going to push a bit into the outer bounds of that thing to see if I can penetrate to the space beyond.”
“But won’t it try to suck you in?”
“I’m not really affected in that way. The closest it’s come to affecting me like that was right at the end of our battle with Grey Thorn, after you two had been killed.”
Twilight shifted uncomfortably.
Reaper furrowed his brow: “Sorry. Anyway, even at its fullest power, the Void could just tug at me. I don’t really exist in a physical sense, and my essence is very potent. This thing is clearly not at the peak of its power right now, so I don’t see a lot of risk.”
Twilight nodded: “So let’s say you manage to wedge your way in a little--then what?”
Luna stepped forward: “Then I will make contact with Reaper in my dream form and see if I can project my thoughts or voice or anything inside the Void.”
“Dream form?”
“Yes--it was your notes that gave me the idea. Clearly Grey Thorn studied the dreamscape extensively in order to be able to hide in it with his creation. I believe I may be able to act upon it as I do my own dream realm--at least a little.”
Twilight chewed her lip: “And there’s no danger to you, either?”
“No. My astral form is considerably more formidable than any pony’s dream essence. I should be able to probe and project, using Reaper as an entry point.”
Reaper shrugged: “Assuming there’s anything to probe…”
Twilight nodded: “I believe there is. I could sense Zecora alive and beyond the boundary of that thing. She went somewhere , I’m just not sure where.”
Luna smiled: “We believe you, which is why we will make a first attempt now, with you in attendance.”
The three turned as Noble appeared nearby in a crimson flash.
Reaper stepped aside and gestured for the unicorn to join Twilight: “You, too, Lieutenant. Step on up and see the show!”
Luna turned back to the Void and took a tentative step toward it. Reaper moved beside and slightly in front of her: “That’s probably close enough.”
Twilight tipped her head slightly: “Is there anything I can do to help?”
Reaper glanced over his shoulder: “Other than moral support? I guess you can keep an eye out in case things go sideways. You’re the only one who’s had any control over the Void recently, so if things go bad, you’ll probably have to pull us back.”
Twilight nodded: “Will do!”
Reaper stepped up to the Void and began to phase. He leaned forward and planted his front hooves as his horn made contact with the featureless black sphere. A ripple ran across his body, briefly distorting him as though he was made of molten glass.
His face followed his horn and pressed slowly into the Void’s surface. He stopped as the backs of his ears disappeared from view. His tail switched twice then hung still.
Luna nodded: “That is our signal that he has penetrated as far as he is able at this time.”
She sank to her knees, folding her legs beneath her, closing her eyes and sending out a thin, bright-silver ribbon from her horn. It snaked its way along Reaper’s back and nestled beneath the back of his mane.
She took a deep shuddering breath and opened her eyes. Her vision swam and she squinted in an attempt to clear her vision. She coughed and found her voice: “Reaper? Can you hear me?”
A voice drifted in from the distance: “Yes, though just. I can feel you here with me, but can’t see anything. Can you see?”
“A bit. It is like being in heavy fog--I can discern shapes and brightness, but little else.”
Luna spread her wings and let her astral form take flight, banking through the blurry clouds and streaks of darkness, searching for any kind of landmark or feature.
“Are you able to see anything, Reaper?”
“No. As far as I can tell I just have my face stuck in a wall. It kind of reminds me of the barrier on the lowest level of Tartarus.”
Luna smiled grimly: “Grey Thorn appears to have cribbed from a variety of sources.”
She angled toward an apparent break in the gloom and caught sight of a cluster of huts and shacks below her. They glowed against the dim background, as though made of some sort of faintly-phosphorescent material.
“I see what appear to be structures of some sort--sheds or huts, perhaps.”
“That’s--weird. Can you get a sense of the implied space in there?”
Luna banked left and stroked her wings: “I cannot tell with any precision, but it is clearly much larger on the inside than it appears from the exterior.”
“Again, like the dreamscape; its boundaries stretch far beyond what seems rational.”
“Yes. It looks like a world in miniature that lenses-in rapidly as I approach, then shrinks back as I move away. It is quite disorienting.”
“Do you see any, well, denizens ? Is there any movement?”
Luna gained some altitude and made for a large, blurry hill-like structure in the distance: “I see something moving along or atop some sort of pinnacle or maybe giant tree? I cannot really tell…”
She dipped and angled downward in an attempt to close in on the mysterious formation, when a black tendril suddenly lashed out at her, entangling a wing and stunning her with a wave of intense cold.
Luna let out a gasp and a choked cry as she tore free of the tendril: “It-it attacked me!”
“What did?”
“The pinnacle or whatever that is! Or perhaps something on it…”
“Are you okay?”
“Y-yes, though a lesser pony likely would have been pulled in. I am going to call out for Zecora then withdraw. I feel lightheaded and would rather not chance another encounter at this time.”
“Agreed!”
Luna retreated from the dark mass and let out a shout in her loudest voice: “Zecora! This is Luna! If you can hear me in your mind or your dreams, know we are making every attempt to free you! Hang on as best as you can!”
She glanced to her left and saw another black ribbon slashing toward her; she closed her eyes and allowed her astral form to dissolve away moments before contact.
Reaper pulled his face free from the Void, gave his head a vigorous shake, and stumbled backwards. He knelt down beside Luna and tapped her on the shoulder: “Hey--Luna! Wake up! Are you okay?”
Luna’s eyes fluttered open as Twilight dashed to her side with a look of concern: “What happened?”
“I was attempting to discern the nature of a structure, when some sort of black ribbon or band lashed out from it and tried to pull me down.”
Twilight stepped back in alarm and cast an image above her head: “Did it look like this?”
Luna furrowed her brow as she gazed at an image of black tendrils reaching for Twilight’s bleeding wrists: “Yes, that was it.”
Twilight bit her lip: “This must be connected to that entity, creature, whatever it is that Grey Thorn mentioned. I can’t see any other explanation.”
Luna nodded and stood unsteadily: “I will have to be more wary next time I venture in. I do not relish the thought of another encounter. I cannot imagine anypony lasting for long in that thing’s clutches.”
Twilight frowned: “No--I’m sure they don’t. Were you able to contact Zecora?”
Luna took a sip of cider from a flask Noble had pulled from his shoulder bag: “I do not know. I broadcast a brief message as loudly as I could just before I withdrew. I hope to do better next time.”
Twilight nodded and turned toward Noble: “Speaking of next time, you and I need to get a little rest, then head right back down to see Grey Thorn. I definitely have a few new questions for him, now!”
The unicorn took back his flask and dropped it in his bag: “Agreed. I’ll head back to my temporary quarters with the Royal Guard and join you in, say, three hours?”
Twilight nodded and disappeared in whitish-violet flash, followed by Noble’s red flash.
Luna turned toward Reaper who was studying the restraining bands lashed across the Void: “Do you know what the touch of that thing reminded me of?”
“No, what?”
“When you had me look into your eyes, then pulled me through to the Waiting Room. I was overcome with a wave of intense cold and a sense of endless, unfillable emptiness.”
“That makes sense. Clearly, within its own, closed domain, that thing is Death.”
Luna shuddered: “What a horrible fate!”
“Yeah, and I suspect it’s probably even worse than we think! I hope Twilight can come up with some answers soon.”
“Agreed. I fear Zecora has little time, if she is even still alive.”
Reaper nodded: “We can but hope, and do our part. Ready for another go?”
Luna shook her head: “I, too, need a bit of rest in order to prepare for another attempt.”
“I understand. Well, the kids are taking three hours before their next date, should we do the same?”
Luna rolled her eyes: “Some date! I can think of few places less-suited to a date than Tartarus!”
Reaper tipped his head toward the Void.
Luna smiled grimly: “Point taken. I will join you here again in three hours.”
She teleported away in a blue flash as Reaper faded out, leaving the chamber silent and empty, save for the ominous presence of the Void.
Because I Could not Stop for Death
Grey Thorn slowly opened his eyes as his lip curled: “Back so soon?”
Twilight strode up to his enclosure as Noble Steel drifted back against the nearby archway and sat down heavily: “Yes, and I’m in a hurry and really need you to be a lot more forthcoming!”
Grey Thorn raised an eyebrow: “Or what?”
Twilight bit her lip and sighed: “Fine. What do you want to know? Let’s make this quick!”
Grey Thorn smiled: “You know, I’m actually curious as to what brought you down here so obviously worked-up. I think I’ll let you go first, this time.”
Twilight glared: “That entity at the heart of the Void--what is it? How’d it get there?”
Grey Thorn closed his eyes and furrowed his brow: “Some years before Starswirl’s death I began construction of my creation deep in the caverns below Canterlot. In parallel, he and I were working on a pair of portal mirrors.”
Twilight nodded: “I know the one he used--it’s in a secured chamber in the castle.”
“Correct, but that’s the second one. The first was something of a prototype: cruder, but more powerful, lacking the various safety interlocks and buffers Starswirl wanted.”
“Those made it into the final version.”
“”Yes, and as we neared completion of the second mirror, I made the prototype disappear under the guise of disposing of it.”
“But it ended up in your creation chamber.”
“Not at first--that wasn’t yet complete nor entirely secured. The mirror ended up down in the caverns for a time. And I used it to travel to other worlds in my quest for new materials, components, techniques, or knowledge--anything I could find to further my research.”
“Into that thing of yours.”
“Not initially; that grew with time.”
“What then?”
Grey Thorn smiled coolly and shook his head: “One question at a time, Princess!”
Twilight sighed noisily: “Anyway--what about that thing at the heart of your creation? What is it?”
“I made multiple forays across the cosmos through my mirror over the course of many months, and acquired various fascinating artifacts, but the two greatest discoveries came close together, late in the game.”
“And?”
“The first I came across as I took my creation--then just a sophisticated trap device--on a sojourn to another realm.”
Grey Thorn tipped his head back slightly and cast a projection out from his horn. An alien scene flickered to life: orange turf beneath an aquamarine sky, rough hills in the distance on the far side of a livid bog.
Twilight could see the profile of Grey Thorn’s creation hovering off to the left side of her vision as the bog drew closer, and she could see a dark shape rising and falling in the bog, casting double shadows beneath twin suns.
Grey Thorn paused the show: “I had probed various portal entries and detected an intense amount of life energy coming from this location. I came through and was immediately struck by the waves of power coming from this bog.”
“Is that black shape the thing inside the Void?”
“Yes. It was not easy to take.”
The images resumed moving, and Twilight watched the dark, writhing shape slither toward the edge of the bog. Suddenly it lashed out, reaching for Grey Thorn. His perspective shifted and swerved violently as flashes and bolts of magic filled the air, and the black form began to form a dark nimbus around itself.
The scene froze again: “That cloud or nimbus is what you saw me wreathed in when we fought. By then I was was actively forming it myself as I exchanged energy with my creation.”
“But that tentacle thing is different. It’s not quite like all the various ribbons and tendrils we encountered, is it?”
“No. Those are essentially manifestations of the nimbus, condensed into solid shapes. They act like the entity, and can sometimes even exhibit independent action, but they are subservient to the master of the creation.”
“Or that thing.”
Grey Thorn scowled: “In my absence, yes.”
“So what reached out to take my blood? Was it the entity itself?”
“Based on your experience and what you showed me, yes.”
“Is that normal?”
Grey Thorn shifted and glanced away awkwardly.
Twilight narrowed her eyes: “I said, is that normal? Answer!”
Grey Thorn gritted his teeth: “No. Not like that. Not that directly. Not outside the confines of the creation.”
Twilight raised an eyebrow: “Yet it did it twice in under five minutes! It pulled Solar Gleam’s essence straight out of him, and reached out for my blood and dark magic.”
“I know. It’s clearly been...evolving since my death.”
“Why?”
Grey Thorn sighed heavily: “The Harbinger was right about one thing--I was losing control of my creation at the end. It had become too powerful and ravenous in the absence of easy prey.”
“You mean because Luna was back in charge of the dreamscape.”
“Yes. I struggled to maintain control, but by that time I didn’t have anything left of myself to give it to sate its hunger.”
“‘Give of yourself?’ What does that mean?”
Grey Thorn grimaced: “Another time. Allow me to finish this tale, then you owe me a story.”
Twilight wrinkled her nose: “Tit-for-tat…”
“Exactly.”
His ghostly horn glowed and the scene shifted again, showing the displaced tentacle-entity uprooted and half stuffed into the carriage-sized device in front of Grey Thorn. It was smeared with blood and ichor, and the unicorn was clearly struggling to maintain control of the creature and his device.
“It nearly killed me, but I managed to neutralize its most potent attacks and pull it from that bog. Placing it in my proto-creation took every ounce of strength I had left.”
The scene focused-in as the entity slipped inside the device with a wet squelching noise, and a sudden, final burst of its nimbus. There was a hollow thud, and the scene went blurry, then dark.
“You passed out.”
“Yes. I came to a few hours later and carved-out a fair-sized chunk of the creature’s native bog and turf, which I successfully translated to the inside of the device.”
“How big was it in there by now?”
Grey Thorn smiled: “You seem unsurprised that I was able to fit all that into such a small space.”
Twilight rolled her eyes: “I have studied the mechanics of localized sub-spatial pocket dimensions--unicorns have used them for centuries to keep dangerous beasts or spell casters imprisoned.”
“Correct. The earliest form of my creation was a sophisticated version of just such a confinement vessel. I expanded it considerably, and would do so several more times over the coming years.”
“So is that also where you dumped the second thing you mentioned discovering?”
Grey Thorn chewed his lip briefly: “Dumped. That’s likely fairly accurate. Let me gather my memories for a moment…”
The glowing scene above Twilight’s head shimmered and blurred for several seconds, finally resolving and settling on a dark-grey machine resting on a rolling meadow with an ancient ruined, domed structure in the background. A figure could be seen walking around the machine.
Twilight furrowed her brow: “What is that thing? Some kind of ship?”
“Yes. It was designed to traverse the vast spaces between the stars. It was crafted of materials I could barely fathom, even after years of study and experimentation.”
Twilight squinted as the vessel drew closer and the figure came into clearer focus: “Was--was that the pilot? What is it--it looks like some sort of insect.”
“It most resembled a large mantis.”
Twilight tipped her head sideways as she watched Kla’atra open a series of panels and pull out various devices and modules. The ship and pilot grew larger in the vision then stopped. Kla’atra’s eyes flashed gold then pale blue for a moment as she looked up from her work.
“Were you invisible?”
“Yes.”
“But the creature still detected you.”
“Yes. It seemed to be possessed of something akin to magic, though I never really found out what.”
Twilight rolled her eyes: “So you killed it.”
“That was not my intent. I planned on capturing it and its vessel. But, well--watch…”
The vision resumed and Kla’atra warily rose to her full height, tipping her head from side to side. Grey Thorn’s field of vision began to glow a deep crimson, which suddenly flashed and cleared with a deafening report.
Kla’atra was thrown backwards against her ship’s hull, limbs flailing as Grey Thorn’s device wheeled into view from the left, a section sliding away, revealing the disorienting, stretched space within.
“I assumed I had stunned it--that blast would have dropped a minotaur! But as I brought my device to bear, the creature let loose a wave of, well, I don’t really know what it was, to be honest.”
Twilight squinted as the vision suddenly twisted and distorted wildly, then became streaked with red. She heard Grey Thorn’s labored breathing and agonized moans. She saw a spray of bloody vomit arc across the dark exterior of his device.
The vision dimmed and fell dark as Twilight heard a final, high-pitched ‘crack’ and saw Grey Thorn’s vision fill with bright blue and gold sparks.
“It was all I could think to do. I was bleeding from my eyes and nose, I was bleeding in my lungs. I could hardly hear. If I hadn’t struck back, that thing would have killed me.”
“Would have served you right.”
“Indeed! I bore it no ill will: I had ambushed it and underestimated its strength--”
“A recurring problem with you…”
Grey Thorn glared: “In any event, I regained consciousness several hours later and discovered the creature was still alive, if barely. I levitated it over the lip of my device’s opening, and let it fall through. I then cast what healing spells I could muster and dismantled the ship, dropping it inside my device as well.”
Twilight’s eyes went wide: “You had enough strength for that?”
“I had no choice. There were other creatures prowling about and I wasn’t about to leave my prize behind. I took a dose of argent potens and--”
“Wait--that’s derived from dragon’s blood! It’s contraband of the highest order!”
Grey Thorn gazed dolefully at Twilight from under half-lidded eyes: “Really. I had no idea.”
Twilight sighed: “Right--I forgot who I was talking to for a minute. Nothing bothers you, no matter how vile.”
“Not by that point, no.”
The vision faded out, centered on the portal expanding to meet Grey Thorn’s blood and ichor-smeared device: “I returned at last with my prizes to my original hideout deep in the caverns beneath Canterlot.”
“And then?”
Grey Thorn smiled and leaned back: “And then you told me a story.”
Twilight ground her teeth: “Fine. What do you want to know?”
“You said the sexual release you experienced as you mastered my creation did not entirely surprise; you said something similar had occurred just a few minutes before. Show me.”
Twilight sighed: “So, I’d spent weeks cleaning up after the effects of your thing, and it all culminated in a big battle in Whinneapolis. The Void’s tendrils or tentacles or whatever had created a major rupture beneath an old hospital…”
Her horn shimmered and an image formed in the air centered on the column of dust rising from Celestia’s battle with the Void. The image zoomed in as Twilight streaked down from the sky, landing next to her mentor.
Grey Thorn watched with wide eyes as the hospital was uprooted and began lumbering forward, entangled with clumps and braids of dark magic and the Void’s tendrils. He squinted as the attackers tore away chunks of the haunted structure, and shook his head as Twilight’s vision centered on Argent Hoof’s gory death.
“Fool. He should have run when he had the chance.”
Twilight paused the scene and glared at the spectral unicorn: “That’s not what Royal Guards do!”
“No--they take the hit for Celestia, just like everypony else, eventually.”
Twilight gritted her teeth: “Do you want to see the rest of this or not?”
Grey Thorn smiled placatingly: “Please--continue.”
Twilight sighed and the vision resumed, with Twilight suddenly ascending above the scene: “Everypony leave this area immediately! I am going to end this now! Flee as far as you can! ”
Grey Thorn strained against his restraints as Celestia’s power washed over Twilight, blurring and washing-out the vision. He glanced back and forth between the projection and the now-quivering alicorn in front of him.
He watched in awe as a glittering ball of impenetrable dark magic and death’s power filled the scene, then descended toward the roiling mass of tendrils below as though shot from a cannon.
Twilight squeezed her eyes shut and began to pant as the vision played out: the energy sphere impacting, disintegrating everything, a stream of indescribable power pouring down from her horn into the Stygian maelstrom, her cries of ecstasy and Celestia’s cries of torment mingling.
“Twilight! Stop! You’re killing me! Killing everypony! ”
Twilight staggered backwards a pace and sat down heavily, tears leaking from beneath her eyelids. Noble Steel squinted and stumbled over tentatively, then sat down beside her.
Twilight took a few ragged breaths: “Th-that’s enough…”
Grey Thorn nodded: “The power on display was staggering!”
“I-I had to...that thing was too strong.”
“But that was not my creation itself. At that very moment the Lieutenant and his cohort were engaging it deep beneath Canterlot, yes?”
Twilight blinked and slowed her breathing: “Right. That was only an extension--the most powerful one, by far--of the Void. There had been many others across central and northern Equestria over the preceding weeks.”
Grey Thorn tapped his hooves together and furrowed his brow: “But how? Surely it didn’t have sufficient power, robbed as it was of its usual energy source.”
“It had tapped into death energy. Its ‘runners’ were most often found in cemeteries, bone piles, that sort of thing. Somehow it was converting death’s residual charge into its own.”
Grey Thorn turned away from Twilight and stared at the floor of his enclosure: “I didn’t think such a thing was possible! The bog I discovered it in contained a large portion of decay and debris, naturally, but I never observed it tapping into that.”
“It never had to, did it? You kept it fed with fresh victims for centuries! But once it lost that resource, it had to fall back on other sustenance .”
Grey Thorn chewed his lip and turned back to face Twilight: “True. And its return to the point of its first awakening, in conjunction with...with…”
He fell silent as Twilight stood unsteadily and shook her head vigorously. She stared at Grey Thorn for a few moments: “In conjunction with what ?”
A thin smile flickered across Grey Thorn’s lips: “That’s a new question, and I’m quite fatigued.”
“Horseshit! You can’t fatigue--you don’t have a body!”
“Call it existential exhaustion, then.”
Twilight sucked air through her teeth: “Fine. You ‘rest up’ then, and be ready to give me more soon! I have to go let Reaper and Luna know what I’ve learned here, see if it helps make any sense of what they’re experiencing.”
She turned and pulled a wing around Noble: “Let’s get out of here before I lose my temper!”
Noble and Twilight disappeared in a violet flash as Grey Thorn leaned forward against his restraints and watched them leave through half-lidded eyes. After a few moments he recalled Twilight’s latest memories into the air in front of him: “Take your time, Princess. I have many things to make sense of, myself.”
Because I Could not Stop for Death
Gil lead Zecora, Bramble, Green Streak and Kla’atra across the Compound, past several ramshackle structures, to the gate in the outer protective wall.
He paused: “Even if the Sentinel is weakened, a group like ours is going to attract attention. We’ll need to move quickly from checkpoint to checkpoint best as we can, and take shelter the moment anything looks amiss.”
Zecora took a sip of water: “Shelter in what?”
“The checkpoints. Over the centuries Kla’atra and I managed to salvage other bits of her ship and some alien structures that were scattered across the landscape. Not everything ended up back here--a few bigger pieces were simply too large or embedded to move.”
Bramble nodded: “We use them to get close to the Swamp. They offer some protection from the Vacuum, and shield us from the Sentinel.”
Zecora furrowed her brow and rummaged in her pouch: “I have a powder here, that combined with a shielding spell was able to keep my team invisible to the Void.”
Gil tipped his head sideways and peered as Zecora opened the small bag containing the compound: “Really? That might be useful. I suspect between Bramble and myself we can generate a bit of a field in a pinch.”
Zecora smiled as she cinched the bag tight and dropped it back into her pouch: “I hope it helps. I have some other compounds and powders and potions that may come in handy as well. I’ll get a better feel for it once I know what kind of risks we’re facing.”
Gil nodded: “We’ll try to fill you in as best as we can as we head across the open fields toward the Swamp, though you being alive may change the dynamic. We’ll find that out soon enough.”
Kla’atra stepped in front of the group and tipped her head down before the Compound gate, her eyes flashing crimson: “Then should we go forth and see what is to have changed!”
The gate slid open and the party crossed the threshold, heading toward the narrow bridge which spanned the multi-hued, ghostly stream surrounding the Compound.
Zecora paused as she crossed the bridge: “Bramble warned me not to touch the water down there--though to be honest it doesn’t exactly look like water…”
Gil nodded as he drifted across the span to the far side: “Correct--it’s not. It some sort of drainage from the Swamp, composed of the Sentinel’s waste and whatever is left of spirit energies after soaking down through the Swamp.”
Kla’atra stepped up beside Zecora and pointed at the stream: “To have touched it should cause a loss of memory.”
Zecora took a long step back from the stream’s edge and shuddered. Gil smiled: “Yes. Those who’ve touched it usually recover their memories, but it can take years, and sometimes the recovery is not complete. I’d really rather not find out its effect on a living pony!”
The zebra eyed the stream suspiciously before turning away and falling in line behind Bramble: “That makes two of us!”
Green Streak cleared the bridge just as something caught her eye and she turned back, crouched down and pointed beneath the bridge: “What’s that ? It looks like a starfish made out of tree roots!”
Gil glanced back over his shoulder: “With that description it must be Squish!”
Kla’atra turned back and crouched next to Green Streak: “It would have taken to hiding under the bridge, again.” Her eyes flashed pale blue for a moment and a small, asymmetrical, five-limbed creature scuttled out from beneath the bridge.
Zecora furrowed her brow as she looked at the small, gnarled, brown-and-orange-streaked thing that was now sidling up beside her front hooves: “What is it?”
Gil tipped his head sideways: “We’re not entirely sure. Kla’atra and I are sure it was here before we were, and we suspect it was original to the Swamp when Grey Thorn took the Sentinel.”
“Can it communicate?”
“Not in the sense of speech or anything like that. It responds rather like a dog: it follows us around and seems to want our company. It can follow simple directions.”
Zecora eyed the small-dog-sized creature warily as it wriggled toward her right front hoof; Zecora poked at it: “Will it hurt me, do you think?”
Gil raised an eyebrow: “Doubtful--it’s as dead and insubstantial as the rest of us. The only real physical threat you face here--”
“I feel something.”
“What?”
Zecora bent down and poked again at Squish: “It’s like stepping into a bed of down or thistle fluff--there’s barely anything there, but I can tell I’m making contact with something.”
Gil glanced at Kla’atra who shrugged and folded her limbs in order to drop down beside Zecora’s hooves. Her eyes flashed pale violet for a moment and Squish rose up slightly on its tentacle-limbs, then moved away, shielding itself behind Zecora’s hind legs.
Zecora glanced over her shoulder at the scurrying creature: “What does it mean? Is it still alive in some sense?”
Kla’atra rose and shrugged: “We were never to have believed Squish to be alive. I should not see how such a thing is possible, given the Vacuum.”
Gil gestured for the others to follow as he headed off, tracking alongside the stream and away from the Compound: “I don’t get it either--especially since it tends to lie along the stream bank, making contact with the flow.”
Zecora furrowed her brow as the Compound fell away behind and to her right after several minutes of silent walking. She glanced back at its walls, then at the darkly-iridescent stream, then back to Squish, which was now directly in front of her again.
She drifted nearer the stream while Gil and Kla’atra chatted together, unaware of her detour. She stopped at the edge of the stream and pulled open her satchel.
Gil glanced back in surprise: “Is something wrong, Zecora?”
She shook her head as the others joined her: “No, but I have a hunch I’d like to test.”
She opened a small pouch and poured out a small measure of bright blue powder into her hoof. Gil leaned in and raised an eyebrow: “What is that?”
“This compound homes-in on the presence of death. We used it in the caverns to track a true course to the Void. In theory it should ignore you, since you’re not really dead, so much as you are an essence. It ignores me, of course, since I’m alive.”
She tossed a small amount of the glittering dust at Gil; it fell through his form onto the ground and slithered slowly toward the stream.
Gli nodded: “And it appears to be floating on the surface, moving upstream.”
Kla’atra’s eyes flashed pale green: “It should have to be heading toward the Sentinel.”
Zecora tapped out another small measure into her hoof: “Which would make sense, given it’s the locus of death in this place. But I wonder what would happen if--”
She bent down and sprinkled a dash of the powder on Squish. It convulsed and scurried away, emitting a low sputtering noise. The dust formed a shimmering blue cloud around it which clung to it until the creature crawled to the very edge of the stream. The compound then coalesced, settled onto the surface of the stream, and began to move slowly against the current.
Zecora’s eyebrows jumped: “Has it ever done that before? It looked like it was--what? In pain? Frightened?”
Gil looked at Kla’atra then shook his head: “Again, I have no idea! It almost never shows any kind of distress--”
Bramble nodded distractedly: “Except when the Sentinel goes overhead...”
Gil stared at Squish and tapped his chin: “Yes. So what does it mean? What’s the connection?”
Kla’atra glanced at Squish who was suddenly scurrying away from the stream, heading out across the orange sward toward a low rise. Bramble looked up and froze and the trace of tracking powder still on Zecora’s hoof rose into the air.
Bramble bolted after Squish, shouting over his shoulder: “Run! The Sentinel’s coming!”
Gil surged forward, sweeping past Zecora: “Follow me! There’s a shelter just beyond that rise!”
The other spirits swept past Zecora as though carried on a strong wind, with Green Streak’s wings flaring like she was really flying. A dark ripple disturbed the air, taking Zecora’s breath away as she put her head down and broke into a full sprint.
She glanced up and saw Kla’atra and Gil break left and right, zig-zagging as they ran, and she caught a glimpse of a swirl of shimmering blue dust rising in an eddy near her right shoulder. Zecora dived suddenly to the ground as the dark ripples streaked overhead. Her satchel popped open, spilling its contents.
Bramble pivoted and dashed back to Zecora, his horn flickering a faint gold: “Hurry! Leave your bag--there’s no time!”
Zecora fumbled and scooped her vials and pouches back into her satchel, trying to keep Solar Gleam’s saddlebag from sliding off her back: “I can’t leave this--it may be the only thing that saves me!”
She shoved the last pouch into her bag, spilling a bit more blue tracking powder in the process, just as the dark ripples of the Sentinel swooped down on her.
Bramble let out a pulse of magic and darted between the dark shape and the prostrate zebra: “Stay down!”
Zecora tipped her head sideways, ears pressed flat, and noticed again the swirl of shimmering blue caught in the Sentinel’s wake. She furrowed her brow and blew the coating of powder from her hoof as the shadow swept past.
There was a sound as of a tree branch breaking in the distance, and the shadow veered off. Zecora stumbled to her hooves and followed Bramble as fast as she could, holding her bag closed between her teeth as she ran.
They crested the top of the low rise and raced toward a squat, hemispherical shell, embedded in a shallow crater. Gil was standing beside a crude opening in the pitted, grey metal, beckoning Zecora: “Hurry! In here!”
She dived toward the opening, then skidded to a stop, eyes wide with horror. Blocking the gap was a pale yellow unicorn with a lime-green mane, twisting in agony, wreathed in livid magenta-and-black flames.
Zecora laid her ears down and glanced furtively over her shoulder at the oncoming shadow, then turned back toward the immolated figure--its face splitting and melting away, its mouth stretched in a high, thin, piercing scream.
Gil gestured furiously: “Hurry! It’s just a vision, it’s not really here in any sense! Pass through it--quickly--before the Sentinel gets you!
Zecora bit her lip, closed her eyes and ducked inside the hollow, metal shell, joining the spirits of Gil, Green Streak, Kla’atra and, moments later, Bramble.
Zecora opened her eyes and shuddered as she felt a cold wave pass through her. The interior of the shelter was dimly-lit by Bramble and Gil’s horns, and as Zecora watched, the tortured figure at the entrance blew away like smoke as the Sentinel’s shadow swept past.
She swallowed hard and turned to Gil: “What was that? I thought all the spirits were in the Compound with you?”
Gil nodded: ”Correct, but Daisy, there, ceased to have any essence a long time ago. She was taken in her sleep by Grey Thorn, what--”
He turned to Kla’atra “350 years ago?”
“Yes. She shall have died in her sleep 354 years ago, and would have been taken by Grey Thorn in the dreamscape.”
Zecora pulled out her water bottle and took a sip: “What did I see, then?”
“When a pony dies their final moments are imprinted. That may take the form of their actual death--as in my case--or a nightmare, as in Daisy’s case.”
“So was Nightmare Moon involved? We know, now, that she caused some actual deaths over the years--ponies dying of heart failure in their sleep.”
“Yes, we figured that out a long time ago, though it’s not always clear. What you saw was her final nightmare--being burned alive in some awful dark magic experiment gone wrong.”
“Why do I see anything at all, if there’s nothing left of her essence?”
“Recall how I mentioned that this domain is similar to the dreamscape in many ways? Think of those final visions or dreams as echoes or ripples on a pond, leaving their imprint on the very fabric of this place, frozen at the moment of death.”
An image of Gil’s death shimmered into view: “That’s the last thing that will remain of me when I finally lose the last battle with the Vacuum. Until then, I have the capacity to engage and remain a conscious entity. Daisy lost that battle long ago, now all that’s left--of her and hundreds more--is that final echo.”
Zecora nodded and peered out the opening: “Why did it dissolve like that? Is even that gone, now?”
“No. The visions drift, break-up, reform, usually due to actions of the Sentinel. I’m sure you felt it pass by--I saw you shudder.”
“Yes, it got very cold very suddenly…”
Gil frowned: “That was a bit of your, well essence isn’t quite the right word, here; a bit of your life force was being siphoned off.”
“That was the Sentinel? How could I tell that from the Vacuum?”
Gil smiled: “Good question! The Vacuum is just a constant, background effect, like light or gravity--you don’t really notice it. The Sentinel’s impact is very acute and noticeable--it’s actively trying to take your life force.”
Kla’atra nodded: “Or our essence.”
Zecora furrowed her brow: “Then doesn’t the Vacuum also drain the Sentinel? It is alive, isn’t it?”
Gil smiled again: “Correct. You’re getting the questions to string together now. Keep going!”
Zecora chewed her lip for a minute: “How did Grey Thorn extract energy, since the Vacuum seems to sponge-up any ambient essence? Was he connected directly to the Sentinel?”
“Not after he got the final connections made and stabilized his spells, no. He had a magical tap or portal on the surface of the containment device that allowed for two-way passage of energy.”
“Was that also part of Kla’atra’s equipment?”
Kla’atra shook her head: “No--Grey Thorn would to have developed the interface using his own magic.”
Zecora tapped her chin: “So, he already had the imprisoning vessel and a magical tap to allow for energy exchange, and he successfully trapped the Sentinel.”
Gil nodded: “So…?”
“So why did he need to strip Kla’atra’s ship for its engine? Why did he create the Vacuum?”
Gil closed his eyes and sighed: “Control. There was no way for Grey Thorn to prevent the Sentinel from breaking out. Celestia knows he tried, early on, but he couldn’t control it. The Vacuum was designed and calibrated to sap energy from the Sentinel, keeping it manageable and hungry.”
‘“How awful!”
“Yes, and ‘designed’ is perhaps not the best word. ‘Cobbled-together’ is more accurate. It took Grey Thorn multiple trial-and-error passes before he achieved a stable solution.”
Bramble stepped outside the shelter as Kla’atra’s eyes flashed pale green: “Semi-stable…”
Zecora glanced at Kla’atra and raised an eyebrow: “Semi?”
Gil nodded: “As I told him that last night, he never did work out the equations to a perfect zero--this place was still a net-negative system.”
Kla’atra’s mandibles worked and her eyes flashed silver: “It would never to be a perfect net-neutral system with a living creature attached.”
“No, but he had reached his limit, and had to finally bring this place into operation, or else admit it was a failure. And by that time, he had literally poured too much of himself into it to back out.”
Zecora furrowed her brow: “You mentioned him supplying the Sentinel with his own blood and life force. How was he doing that?”
Gil closed his eyes and steepled his hooves: “I wasn’t there from the very beginning but--”
Bramble suddenly stuck his head inside the shelter: “It’ll have to wait. We have a chance to get across some more open ground to the Ruins if we hurry.”
Gil rose slowly from the ground and drifted through the opening: “Good--let’s move while we can. I’m sure we’ll have to hunker down again soon, and I can pick up the story then.”
The others stepped back out into the dim, diffuse light as Zecora dropped her water bottle back into her bag, slung it around her neck, and followed behind Green Streak.
Daisy’s shade re-formed before the checkpoint and resumed its ghastly dance as Zecora disappeared down the far slope.
Because I Could not Stop for Death
Twilight floated in the pool, warm, scented water lapping over her bare skin, Nahko rubbing a mixture of coarse salt and soaproot across her neck and shoulders. She took a deep breath and raised a hand out of the water, beckoning Eska closer.
“Get me some more wine, please.”
The parzaile leaned over the edge of the pool and reached for a pitcher of pale yellow wine, filling a silver-and-turquoise cup. She waded back across the pool and handed the cup to Twilight, who shifted and settled onto a sunken bench.
“Thank you. Could you put some more charcoal on the fire? I like it a bit warmer.”
“At once, m’Lady!”
Eska slid to the far side of the pool and pulled herself out next to the firepit. She tossed in a few chunks of inky-black charcoal, then tipped her head to one side, peering at a small stone jar sitting nearby.
She glanced over her shoulder at Twilight and Nahko, then quickly opened the jar and flicked a finger-load of its pungent, sticky contents into the embers.
Twilight took a long sip of wine and sighed heavily as the air in the room began to take on a sweet, spicy note. Her eyelids drooped as Nahko worked oil and soaproot through her hair.
“Oh, sweet Celestia, this feels good! All that time down in Tartarus is really fraying my nerves!”
Eska slipped back into the water and drifted next to Twilight, settling next to her and putting the wine cup to her own lips, then Twilight’s: “Has this time in our baths helped m’Lady?”
Twilight’s eyes dilated and her nostrils flared as she emptied her cup: “Oh, very much so!”
Eska took the wine cup from Twilight and placed the groggy Princess’ now-empty hand on her own tan-skinned breast. Twilight started, then smiled, closed her eyes and began to rub Eska’s nipple through the thin, clinging fabric.
Eska leaned in and slid her hand beneath the water and between Twilight’s open thighs. Twilight rocked back slightly and lifted her hips, allowing the parzaile full access. Twilight began to moan softly, and Nahko moved her soap-covered hands down to Twilight’s flushed breasts.
Twilight arched her back as Nahko poured water across her chest, rinsing the skin clean, then closed her teeth and lips over Twilight’s rigid left nipple.
Twilight gasped and squeezed her legs together as Eska’s fingers slipped inside her at the same time Nahko’s teeth bit lightly into her skin. She chewed her lip and grabbed Nahko’s wet hair.
The fire began to gutter, sending flickering shadows dancing across the three women's’ glistening bodies. Twilight began to pant and rock her hips, twisting her fingers deeper into Nahko’s hair, tugging her free from her nipple. She pulled Nahko’s face to hers and pressed her mouth hungrily against the parzaile’s.
Nahko’s eyes went wide with fear, and she began to struggle as Twilight opened her own eyes, now glowing silver-white, and stared into Nahko’s. She pulled the terrified, struggling woman closer, crushing their mouths together, sucking in her breath, holding the deadly embrace until the parzaile’s choked cries, spasms and clawing ceased. The faint tang of urine mingled with the odors of mets’il and charcoal and scented oils.
Twilight backed her face away and regarded Nahko’s half-lidded, vacant eyes for a moment before chewing her lip and letting the tattooed body drift away to the left and sink slightly beneath the water. She dabbed absently at a bleeding scratch on her cheek.
Suddenly the hair rose on the back of her neck and she turned slowly to her right, expecting to see Eska. Instead she was confronted by a pair of piercing aquamarine eyes in a dark face, framed by glossy, black hair.
Twilight woke with a start and struggled free of her blanket, catching sight of Luna standing at the foot of the bed, head tipped slightly to one side, brow furrowed.
Twilight sat back heavily on the bed and pulled the blanket around her shoulders, tucking her wings in tightly: “How-how long have you been there?”
Luna stepped around the side of the bed and sat down on a low ottoman: “Long enough. I was patrolling the dreamscape when I sensed you dreaming, and felt the dream’s rising intensity.”
A thin sliver ribbon rose from Luna’s horn and landed lightly on Twilight’s; the purple alicorn closed her eyes.
Luna eyes focused on Twilight’s face for a few moments, then she withdrew the silvery tendril: “I find it interesting that you incorporated mets’il into your dream after only the brief description I gave you the other day.”
“I-I didn’t mean--”
Luna smiled softly: “Of course you did not, Twilight. You have not learned the arts of directed and lucid dreaming--few ponies do. But clearly a dream this powerful is deeply-rooted.”
“But why? I really enjoy my time in the baths, and now I’m afraid I’ve ruined it!”
Luna smiled and shook her head: “Dux’a’s baths are my creation in a secured corner of the dreamscape--you cannot impact that. This was simply a dream of your own, and will have no effect on Nahko or Eska as you know them in my domain.”
Twilight sighed and summoned a cup of water from a side table: “Thank you for that, Luna! I--I’m just worried. My dreams have been getting darker again, this time with me as the focus of darkness.”
Luna nodded and levitated a cup of water for herself: “I know. This dream you just experienced, in particular, casts you as a direct agent of death.”
Twilight shuddered: “Like Reaper was to me.”
“Exactly. You slew Nahko just as Reaper took your life--well, almost took it.”
Twilight closed her eyes and swallowed heavily: “Yeah…”
Luna set her cup down: “What do you fear, Twilight? Not death, I think.”
“No--not really. I’ve basically died twice, and I’m not particularly afraid of that anymore.”
Luna opened her mouth then paused. Her eyes took on a distant aspect as she focused beyond the walls of the room.
Twilight tipped her head to one side: “Is everything OK, Luna?”
Luna blinked heavily and shook her head to clear the cobwebs: “Yes--I had a sudden rush of déjà vu, which is even more disorienting for me than for other ponies!”
“I can imagine! What were you going to say?”
“What do you fear?”
“The unknown, the unknowable, what lies beyond death.”
“Interesting. When confronted with that question, Reaper replied that he feared the deaths of others and his part in that as Gerrar.”
“I guess that makes sense, given what you’ve told me of Gerrar. But I’ve never been cruel nor lived in a barbaric world, so I don’t have a deep-seated, gut-wrenching fear of death.”
“You fear not knowing more, not being in control. Even when you were the Harbinger, you had to relinquish ultimate control after you sent spirits on their way.”
Twilight sipped her water: “Right--to an unknowable fate. I think that disturbed me more than anything else. There I was, the literal Agent of Death, and I still didn’t know what ultimately happens after you die!”
Luna smiled: “Nor did Starswirl, and it was one of his obsessions.”
“I know! And it was obviously an obsession for Grey Thorn, as well, though I still don’t really know why.”
“Perhaps the two are intertwined.”
“Maybe. I just wish I could get more answers out of him faster! I’m sure we’re running out of time, but he just keeps dragging things out!”
“I understand. Reaper and I plan to probe the Void again this evening in an attempt to contact Zecora. My sense of the realm within the Void was that it is akin the the dreamscape in some ways, but more distorted. And knowing that there is a malevolent presence at its heart, I will be more judicious in my approach next time!”
Twilight nodded: “Good, though I’m not sure ‘malevolent’ is really the right word. Whatever that thing is, I don’t think it’s really evil, per se--it’s more like a clever, violent animal.”
Luna furrowed her brow: “Like the hartz…”
“Hartz?”
Luna smiled: “A story for another day! Since Grey Thorn seems to be parceling-out information in small bites, what will you ask of him next?”
Twilight frowned: “Don’t know--it’s so frustrating! I can tell he wants to just spill his whole story, but he also wants to keep this game going, so I have to prioritize.”
She shook off her blanket and stood, stretching her wings and stepping to the side table: “I really need to understand the connection between that entity and the containment device. Something just doesn’t add up.”
Luna stood and nodded: “Well, I shall make it a priority to attempt to glean more information about that entity, then.”
Twilight drained her cup: “Thanks--we’ll get back together later tonight then, yes?”
Luna nodded as her horn began to glow: “Yes, and Twilight, remember--we are not necessarily meant to know everything. Our goal is Zecora’s recovery.”
Luna disappeared in a bright blue flash, leaving Twilight alone, chewing her lip for a moment: “Maybe…”
She teleported away with a quiet ‘pop.’
Noble stumbled a bit as he phased through the barrier wall, and Twilight stretched out a wing to steady him. He squeezed his eyes shut tight and shuddered: “I don’t know if I’m ever going to get used to this place!”
Twilight nodded and averted her eyes from the Pit as they walked slowly to the nearby teleport guidepost rune: “I hope we aren’t here long enough to get used to it!”
Noble swallowed as Twilight’s pale magenta teleport field overcame them: “Speaking of--”
They appeared a moment later in the passageway near Grey Thorn’s cell: “--do you have any guess how much longer this may take?”
Twilight grimaced as they approached Grey Thorn: “As long as it takes, Lieutenant--isn’t that right, G.T.?”
Grey Thorn turned slowly to face his visitors: “Well, I certainly have longer than you, Princess. So where to begin?”
Twilight sighed: “You first. What do you want to know this time?”
Steel stepped forward unsteadily and put up a hoof: “Hold on--I have a question, first!”
Grey Thorn lowered his lids and regarded the unicorn with a baleful stare: “You’re not part of this, colt. I allow you here as Twilight’s crutch.”
Twilight sighed: “Let him ask--you can decide whether to answer or not once he’s done.”
“Fine.”
Noble tried to lock his eyes on Grey Thorn’s, but had to squint, and finally close them: “Why do you want to know all this? What difference will it make? You can’t ever leave here, and there’s nothing Twilight could do for you even if she wanted to!”
Grey Thorn smiled: “That’s a very good question. I think this should stand as your question, Princess. What do you think?”
Twilight ground her teeth: “Shit, no! I don’t care why you want to know all this stuff--I just want to get this over with so I can rescue Zecora!”
Grey Thorn’s smile flickered then melted away, and he turned solemnly to Noble: “A wise choice. Learn from your betters, son.”
Noble’s nostrils flared as he turned away and stumbled into a corner to sit down: “He’s using you, Twilight--it’s important to know why!”
Twilight furrowed her brow and glared at Grey Thorn: “We’ve covered this! I know damn good and well that he’s using me, but if this is what it takes to get Zecora, then this is what it takes! Now ask your question, G.T.!”
Grey Thorn settled back against his restraints and tapped his front hooves together: “You indicated the Harbinger took back his power from you. How? Show me.”
Twilight shuddered and closed her eyes: “N-no--I can’t, not now. Please, I can’t go through that again yet! Ask anything else!”
Grey Thorn tipped his head sideways as a thin smile spread across face: “Fine. Another time, then. Tell me, instead, of how he regained his power from Luna. Apparently this occurred on another world, in another reality?”
Twilight swallowed, sat down and opened her eyes: “Th-that’s right. Back on the world of his origins, Kur.”
“He took the power from her there?”
“Sort of. He died in a battle, and that world’s Harbinger stripped Luna from her body, separating Death’s power at that time, leaving Nightmare Moon behind with the body.”
“So they truly were two distinct entities at that point.”
“Yes. Luna’s told me some things, but hasn’t shown me anything from her memories. She was trapped at the end, only able to observe, and I know it was pretty traumatic.”
Grey Thorn blinked slowly: “Something you understand well, it seems.”
Twilight grimaced: “Y-yes. But I did see something of it. She reached out to me in a dream state, connecting me, her and Reaper.”
“From beyond our reality?”
“Yes. It was very odd, and some of it still feels like a dream to me. Here is is…”
She tipped her head up as her horn began to glow and a scene shimmered into view above her.
“I was asleep, though I didn’t realize it at first, and I thought Luna had returned.”
Grey Thorn leaned forward as Twilight’s memories played out: the shadowy figure, Luna entering the room, Reaper appearing in his tattered cloak, sprawled on Twilight’s couch.
“He’s not in pony form, here.”
“No, that’s the way the beings look on Kur. It’s similar in many ways to the inhabitants of another world I’ve visited, using Starswirl’s mirror.”
The shadows retreated in the vision, revealing Nightmare Moon:
“So you’re also Luna?”
“That is not an easy question to answer.”
Grey Thorn’s eyes widened: “Even in that form she is clearly Nightmare Moon, returned!"
The vision shifted as Twilight focused-in on Nightmare Moon, lifting her dress and straddling Reaper’s slouched form as Luna protested:
“Yet again I am incapable of controlling elements within your dream, Reaper! You must master yourself!”
Grey Thorn’s eyes flicked back-and-forth between Twilight and the dream image. He held up a hoof: “Pause this vision! Is he now inside her?”
Twilight nodded: “Yes--she was riding him. He wasn’t really aware of what was going on, I don’t think--I couldn't really tell.”
Grey Thorn chewed his lip, and Twilight glanced at his face for a moment: “There was some sort of dynamic between the three of them that I don’t understand. I haven’t talked to Reaper at all, and Luna’s only told me a bit.”
Grey Thorn nodded curtly: “She wanted control and power and a body in order to get those things. That really was Nightmare Moon, scrubbed clean of Luna’s empty, soft weakness and sentimentality. I wish...I wish...”
Twilight raised an eyebrow: “That that was you underneath her?”
Grey Thorn looked away from the image and smiled lightly at Twilight: “Is that your question, now?”
“Oh, I think I already know the answer to that one!”
The image disappeared as Twilight stood and stretched her wings: “No, I want to know how the entity is connected to your containment device, and why. It doesn’t add up.”
“Hmm. You sound like Gil.”
“Was he right?”
Grey Thorn ground his teeth for a moment: “Most likely, yes.”
“So what went wrong?”
Grey Thorn sighed as his ghostly horn flickered, and a new image filled the air above their heads. The Sentinel was bound in crimson and black bands of magical energy, half sunken in the Swamp, swaths of orange turf piled and overturned around it.
“I constructed a mound for the entity, then reversed gravity at the top of the chamber so I could craft the magical construct needed to graft the entity to the device.”
“Is that also where you used the alien’s machinery?”
“No. That I integrated directly into the containment shell.”
Twilight watched intently as the view inverted and a portal shimmered and phased in- and out-of-sight. A beam of dark magic lanced across the gunmetal-grey surface etching a series of runes in and around a blood-encrusted thaumaturgic circle.
She squinted: “More of Shoiman’s glyphs it appears. Wait--this is a sacrificial…”
Twilight locked her gaze on Grey Thorn: “What did you sacrifice? Who did you sacrifice? I saw tons of skeletons in the bone pit, so it must have been--”
“It was my own sacrifice. Watch.”
The vision suddenly pulsed blood-red and a scream of agony filled the air as the glyphs glowed crimson and gold. The image twisted and blurred, then went black. All that remained was ragged breathing and a high, wet, hissing noise.
The scene brightened again as past Grey Thorn opened his eyes, revealing sizzling, bubbling blood sprayed and smeared across the glyphs and runes. A dark shape stretched in from the right and touched the circle. The scene went dark again to the sound of a body collapsing against the metal of the containment vessel.
“Your blood. You attracted it with blood, but what happened when it touched the circle and completed the sacrifice?”
Grey Thorn frowned: “What is usually consumed in a dark magic sacrifice?”
Twilight tipped her head sideways and narrowed her eyes: “How much of yourself was lost?”
“I sacrificed...six times.”
“Six?! What in Tartarus is left of you?”
Grey Thorn raised an eyebrow and gestured down himself: “What you see before you. I gave my all to bring my creation to fruition.”
“No wonder you wouldn’t get even a yard away from that thing--it was more you by the end than you were!”
“We were symbiotically entwined by then. I would channel energy and essence from it as I made sure to funnel new...sources to it.”
Twilight glared and pointed to the blood-smeared circle: “Victims, you mean. And you would utilize that thing’s nimbus or cloud or whatever to attack, then what--that port would open?”
Grey Thorn tipped his horn upward and the scene shifted to an elderly, sky-blue unicorn, transfixed in terror as dark tendrils entangled it. His essence hovered above his body for a moment, then a deep, golden glow flickered at the edge of the image, and the nimbus parted for an instant as a tendril swept the unicorn’s life energy down through a pitch-black hole in a dark-grey surface.
The unicorn’s dream body shuddered and twisted, then dissolved: “The tendrils of dark energy were mine to control, along with the outer nimbus. Once an essence had been entrapped the sacrifice circle would phase open and the Entity would draw the energy in.”
“Is the portal or door or whatever always in the same place?”
“Relative to me, yes--it always was. But I was in control of it, and it stayed oriented to my will. Now…”
Twilight chewed her lip: “You don’t know.”
“No. Though given your experience, I suspect the Entity has reoriented itself according to its own needs.”
“And two attacks.”
“Yes.”
“Can I get through that port?”
“Yes. But it will not be easy, and the confinement vessel itself represents a risk.”
“That alien machinery.”
“Yes.”
“Yeah--we need to circle back to that. What was the point of that, again?”
A thin smile spread across Grey Thorn’s face: “That’s another question.”
Twilight stamped a hoof: “Dammit! Fine! But I need to know about that alien equipment, and why you needed six sacrifices to tie it all together!”
She squinted as she turned toward, then away from, the Pit: “Come on, Noble--we need to go for now. But we’ll be back soon.”
Noble rose unsteadily to his hooves as Twilight started to step away from Grey Thorn’s cell, only to turn back in response to a sharp whisper.
“One quick thing before you go, Princess--a small trade.”
Twilight leaned forward and furrowed her brow: “Now what?”
“A clue for a simple question.”
She sighed: “Go.”
Grey Thorn licked his lips: “You asked as to the purpose of the alien’s technology and what it has to do with the Entity. How would you go about not merely containing, but controlling a ravenous creature?”
“How?”
“Feed it and drain it constantly--maintain that tension and you maintain control.”
“OK, but--”
Grey Thorn wagged a hoof: “Ah-ah, just a clue--not the whole story!”
Twilight rolled her eyes: “Fine. What’s your ‘simple’ question, that I’m betting isn’t really all that simple?”
Grey Thorn grinned: “To the contrary--it’s quite simple! During your time as the Harbinger, I assume you were asked by any number of ponies what was to be their ultimate fate, yes?”
“Many asked what comes next, yes.”
“And?”
“And I told them that I didn’t know, that nopony really knows.”
“Why not?”
“Because we’re not meant to know.”
“Starswirl didn’t believe that, but he was unwilling to do the things ultimately needed to find out.”
Twilight smirked: “Yeah, and then you went a step too far and found out what happens to some ponies after they die!”
Grey Thorn rose up to his full height and glared dolefully down the length of his muzzle: “Indeed. My mistakes cost me everything in the end, but I was willing to risk everything in order to penetrate beyond death’s veil.”
Twilight shook her head and turned away as Grey Thorn leaned against his restraints: “And what of you, Princess? What becomes of you when even your enormous power and life force eventually fade away? Where do ponies go after they die?”
Twilight glanced over her shoulder for a moment, then shrugged half-halfheartedly and walked over to Noble Steel, who had moved to the guidepost runes.
He stepped next to Twilight and furrowed his brow: “You two were quiet at the end, there, and I couldn’t make out what Grey Thorn was saying. What did he ask?”
Twilight chewed the inside of her mouth for a moment as her horn began to glow: “Nothing--just a stupid riddle. Let’s get out of here.”
Grey Thorn watched the teleport flash fade, then slowly closed his eyes.
Because I Could not Stop for Death
Noble Steel could see the fractured rock above him, sliding, cracking, crumbling, dust filling his nostrils, eyes frozen open staring at grey death plummeting toward his face. There was a sudden, sickening crunch and a flash of red…
He sat up in his bed, panting, sweating, trembling. He reached out with his magic and summoned a cup of cider from a side table underneath the room’s shuttered window.
He put the cup to his quivering lip, steadied his breathing, and pulled a sip of cider into his dry mouth as his heartbeat slowed. He closed his eyes and drank deeply.
He sighed as the cup drifted back from his muzzle: “At least I didn’t piss the bed this time…”
“Which my staff appreciates, Lieutenant.”
Noble started, dropping the cup as he whipped his head around and noticed Luna sitting on a cushion in the far corner. He stopped the cup and its contents mid-fall, inches before it hit the floor: “Princess! How long have you been there?”
“Long enough to note the replay of this particular dream for, what–the fifteenth time?”
Noble set the cup down on the floor beside the bed: “Yeah, that sounds about right. Rare is the night I don’t wake up in a cold sweat or worse.”
Luna rose and stepped toward the bed: “Yes. Captain Shatter has been suffering similarly.”
Noble nodded: “I know–we’ve talked a fair amount since our return from the mission. That was rough on all of us...”
He furrowed his brow and glanced at the window, magically cracking the shutters open an inch: “Especially Smudge and Solar.”
Luna lifted Noble’s drink from the floor, placed it on the side table and poured herself a cup: “True, though there is, perhaps, still hope for Zecora. In your opinion, is Twilight having success extracting useful information from Grey Thorn, or is he merely stringing her along?”
Noble sighed and rubbed his muzzle: “It’s a little hard for me to tell–I can’t hear them clearly, sometimes. I’m sure he’s giving her solid intel, based on the visions, but I’m afraid he’s also getting back more than she’s bargained for.”
“What do you mean?”
“The visions he shows are–how do I put this–historical in nature.”
“Historical?”
“Yeah, they’re visions of the past meant to illustrate some key aspect of the Void.”
“Which is what Twilight seeks, after all.”
“True, but then he asks deeply-personal stuff, and I can’t figure out his angle.”
Luna grinned knowingly: “To be sure, a villain’s motivations can be difficult to discern--sometimes even to themselves!”
Noble smiled weakly: “I’m just worried.”
“And my sister and I appreciate that, Noble. Please continue to be vigilant, and I will talk to Twilight to see if I can glean something from Grey Thorn’s actions.”
She stood as Noble slid off the edge of the bed and stretched: “Thank you, Princess. Have you and Reaper been able to figure out anything more?”
Luna walked through the door into an adjoining passage leading to her main chambers: “We were actually about to make another attempt, if you would like to accompany us.”
“Will Twilight be there?”
“That is the plan; Reaper and I may have real-time questions for her as we probe the Void.”
Noble nodded as they rounded a corner and entered Luna’s Audience Room. Reaper stood at the bottom of the dais, faded-out and still; Noble shuddered.
Luna stepped up to Reaper’s form and reached out with a thin tendril of silvery-white magic; it touched his horn.
Reaper’s eyes opened as he re-solidified: “Sorry--taking care of a little business while waiting. Are we all ready to go?”
Luna nodded: “Twilight will meet us there.”
“Alright, then--let’s join her now, and see if we can fit another piece of this puzzle in place.”
Luna disappeared in a bluish flash as Reaper faded away. Noble stood for a moment, chewing his lip: “Which puzzle…?”
He teleported away with a ‘bang.’
Noble Steel, Reaper and Luna appeared in Grey Thorn’s creation chamber a few moments later, and found Twilight sitting in front of the Void, brow furrowed, poring over a small notebook.
Noble leaned down over her shoulder: “Anything useful?”
Twilight started and stumbled to her hooves: “S-sorry--you startled me! No, I’m just going over my notes from our last trip to Tartarus, seeing if anything from G.T.’s past correlates to this thing’s current state.”
Reaper stepped up to the Void: “And?”
Twilight yawned, reached up and scratched her ear: “Not really. I did too good a job binding it, and I’m going to need to learn more about how he integrated the alien technology with the containment shell before I try anything.”
Luna moved beside Reaper and looked back at Twilight: “Is there anything I might learn as my astral form passes through that would be of use to you?”
“Maybe. If you can try to get a definitive sense of which way is ‘up’ in there, that might help me align myself when I begin my own probing.”
Noble’s eyebrows jumped in alarm: “Your probing? You mean to interact with this thing? I thought we were leaving the probing to Reaper and Luna!”
Twilight shook her head: “I’m going to have to try to open it at some point--there’s no other way to get Zecora out. She’s physically trapped behind an actual barrier, and I have to figure out how to get Grey Thorn’s original access port open.”
She frowned and absently ran her tongue over her teeth: “If it can be opened…”
Reaper nodded: “I don’t like it any more than you, Lieutenant, but I’m afraid Twilight’s right, and she’s the only one with any experience controlling this thing. She has a connection to it that neither Luna nor I do.”
Noble bit his lip and glanced from Twilight to the Void: “OK, but what if he’s not giving us the whole story? What if he’s misleading her into danger?”
Twilight sighed as she set her notebook off to one side and stepped up beside Luna: “I already assume that. I don’t know what he thinks he has planned, but as long as he’s giving me real information I’ll let him nurse whatever plot he thinks he has. He’s made a career out of underestimating and miscalculating. I doubt there’s any risk here I can’t handle.”
Noble furrowed his brow and glanced at Luna. She shook her head: “Later, Lieutenant. I promise I have not forgotten our conversation.”
Noble sighed and sat down as Luna snaked a ribbon of magic along Reaper’s back; he stepped forward and made contact with the Void.
The other three watched as Reaper pressed his head forward into and through the surface of the Void. He stopped, and Luna’s eyes went blank before slowly closing.
Zecora followed Gil the final yards up a steep slope to what appeared to be some sort of ruined basilica or temple. The foundation stones and part of the lower walls were intact, but the majority of the tall, hulking, domed structure seemed to flicker in and out of existence. Zecora had to glance at it out of her peripheral vision in order to take it in.
As she approached the top of the hill and crossed the threshold, she was overcome by a wave of vertigo. She stopped and leaned against the entryway arch.
Gil drifted beside her: “What’s wrong?”
Zecora shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut: “I don’t know. I suddenly feel dizzy. I also believe I recognize this place.”
Gil raised an eyebrow: “Howso? These ruins were brought here from another world!”
“Yes, I guessed that. My team passed through a section of passages in the chasm that were being warped by the Void in order to throw us off. One of the illusions looked like this structure; Solar Gleam and I shared that particular vision.”
“Interesting. Clearly the Sentinel was externalizing places from within its realm as a defense. How realistic were the illusions?”
“I could smell the dust, feel the marble beneath my hooves, hear the ring of Solar’s hoof-falls on the floor. We had to cast a combination spell-and-compound shield in order to see the passages correctly again, or we likely would have walked off a cliff.”
“Fascinating. Well, you shouldn't run that risk here, though I assume the fact you have real flesh-and-blood eyes and brain is causing you problems the rest of us don’t suffer.”
“Is that why everything seems distorted and out-of-focus?”
“Yes. Your real eyes and brain are not equipped to resolve most of the structure around you. We spirits don’t have that problem, and perceive this place as it must have looked on its own world, but you can only correctly resolve the bits and pieces of actual stonework.”
“Why is it here?”
“This was one of Grey Thorn’s last acquisitions. It’s the ruins of some ancient research library-temple from another alien realm. He felt the stones themselves and attendant runes would give him better control of the Sentinel.”
Zecora made her way slowly across the cracked floor and sat down, slipping off Solar’s saddlebag as she settled to the floor. She opened the bag and removed a hunk of bread.
She slowly chewed a bite as she squinted and peered at the ghostly, distorted space around her: “So if he extracted these ruins as a trap, or whatever, does that mean we’re close?”
“No. this was a failed experiment that cost him another significant piece of his life force to wrest into position, then empower.”
Kla’atra gazed up at the riven dome; her eyes flashed gold for a moment: “Yet again he was to have miscalculated the effects of my engine, misinterpreting zero-point fluctuations for magic.”
Gil nodded: “Yes--another case of not working out all the kinks between the Sentinel, the Vacuum and his own trans-dimensional magic.”
Zecora swallowed a sip of water and put bread and bottle back in the saddlebag: “Could he have ever done it?”
Kla’atra shook her head and Gil shrugged: “Unlikely. The Sentinel, as a living creature, introduced too much variability. It’s why he kept short-cutting with magic.”
He pointed across the temple floor toward a fluted column: “In fact, if you’ll join me, you’ll see the first remnant of Grey Thorn to grace this place.”
Zecora stood and followed Gil as he drifted around the column, revealing a drunk, spectral unicorn, slouched across a tattered, stained chaise lounge. Empty tankards and chalices littered the floor.
Zecora raised an eyebrow: “Was he drunk all the time?”
“Not quite, but this was fairly late in the game, and by this time he was simply tired and frustrated and rushing to get it done.”
He pointed to the shade as it sat up and summoned a tankard of ale: “He stripped away a fair amount of himself in rapid succession; this is the first, and most-substantial fragment.”
The shade glanced up: “Back again, Gil?”
Zecora started: “I thought this was just a specter--an after-image! How can it know you’re here?”
Gil smiled: “Do you recall that I said Grey Thorn’s essences were undisturbed by the Sentinel?”
“Yes.”
“As a result, they had a chance over the long years to imprint themselves more fully on this place. He is--well, was --the creator and crafter of this domain, and this fragment contained more of his essence than any other.”
Gil settled to the floor in front of the lounge chair: “I interacted with and spoke to this version of Grey Thorn hundreds of times over the centuries until one day he finally faded.”
Zecora stepped behind Gil and peered down at Grey Thorn’s image: “Then what’s this?”
Gli sighed: “This is like a recording. I can interact with it, but only to get it to replay old interactions. It’s almost like a visible memory.”
He faced Grey Thorn’s image: “How did you manage to strip away only a part of yourself for the creature to absorb?”
Grey Thorn’s spectral eyes focused on Gil: “The sacrifice circle and glyphs, of course. Starswirl figured out how to calibrate that spell years ago. I have his notes.”
An image of circles and runes and symbols flickered dimly in the air. Zecora stared intently.
Gil nodded: “Have you sacrificed others?”
“Not ponies, if that’s what you mean.”
Gil turned toward Zecora: “See? These are all things I discussed with him over the years.”
“Does this version know why the integration never fully succeeded?”
Gil shook his head: “No. Grey Thorn at this point had been balancing the equations in earnest for a while, but realized he had to either invest a huge amount of power, or lose the whole experiment.”
“So this was where he made his fateful decision. Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why did he create this monstrous thing?”
A cold smile spread across Gil’s face as he turned again toward Grey Thorn’s image: “Why’d you do it? What possessed you to create this place at such a terrible cost?”
The shade flickered and wavered, but sat silent. Zecora opened her mouth to speak, but Gil held up a hoof: “Hold on…”
The specter’s eyes opened: “Where do we go when we die, Gil?”
“Nopony knows.”
“We have magic, power, intelligence, the ability to travel between realities. Why don’t we know?”
“It must be fundamentally unknowable.”
“Celestia and Luna will likely never die. Why not?”
“Same answer.”
Grey Thorn’s shade licked its lips: “Starswirl doesn’t believe that. He believes there’s an answer beyond The Veil--that if we literally master death, we could wrest the answers from it.”
“And this is your attempt to pierce that Veil?”
“If I can extract Death on a small-scale, something contained and observable, I can master it. This creation will give me that power.”
Zecora shuddered and sat down: “How awful! He sought to become Death!”
Gil tipped his head sideways and furrowed his brow: “Not entirely, not at first, anyway. He was looking for some sort of device or spell that would allow him to bottle-up death, if you will, corner it.”
“But then, as with a beast, he had to feed it.”
“Exactly.”
“But why--”
Zecora’s ears pricked up and she glanced around the temple.
Zecora! This is Luna! I have entered the Void again, and will try to reach out to you as long as I can. There is an entity in this place that seeks me out. I cannot remain long.
Zecora glanced at Gil: “That’s Luna trying to reach me, again! You can’t hear her?”
Gil shook his head: “No--again, I suspect we spirits may be unable to perceive her in whatever form she’s using.”
Zecora bit her lip: “How can I contact her back?”
Gil shrugged.
Zecora tapped the floor nervously for a moment, then reached suddenly into her satchel: “Sleep! That’s her domain!”
She pulled out a small vial, popped its stopper and quaffed a sip of its bright green contents. She pressed the stopper back just as her eyes began to lose focus. She slumped forward onto the marble and let out a deep, shuddering sigh.
Luna squinted through the dark haze, trying to discern the ground and her orientation to it, all while keeping an eye out for the dark shape that had assaulted her previously.
She trimmed her wings and banked hard, searching for “down” as she reached out for Zecora: “Zecora! This is Luna! I have entered the Void again, and will try to reach out to you as long as I can. There is an entity in this place that seeks me out. I cannot remain long.”
Luna swooped low and saw again the cluster of shacks and ramshackle wall, bordered by a ghostly, glimmering stream. She flared her wings and achieved stable, level flight, scrubbing off speed and climbing.
Suddenly she sensed an active, living mind dropping into sleep. Zebra stripes flashed before her eyes, and she halted, hovering and closing her eyes, desperately trying to connect.
“I feel you Zecora! Can you hear me? Can you speak to me?”
Luna gazed around at her interior dreamscape, which was a confused jumble of stones and clouds, surmounted by a deep shadow that swept side-to-side, growing closer.
“I cannot see you!”
A set of nested circles resolved in front of her, sparkling with golden glyphs and runes. She furrowed her brow as the circles blew away, and Zecora’s voice came to her as though from a great distance.
“He seeks to trap and study death / e’en at the cost of mortal breath / Starswirl sought the reasons why / some ponies live while others die .”
Luna furrowed her brow: “Are you saying Starswirl is the author of this place? What was his part in it?”
“Starswirl laid the seeds of doubt / which --”
Luna’s revery was shattered by an intense wave of cold which buffeted her backwards, driving her toward the ground, disorienting and blinding her. She wrapped herself in a protective bubble and dissolved her astral self.
“I must leave again, Zecora, but I will return as soon as I can! Courage!”
Luna staggered backwards and toppled sideways as she broke her link with Reaper. Twilight generated a magical buffer moments before the indigo alicorn hit the floor, and Reaper disengaged with the Void and knelt beside the dazed Princess.
Twilight gestured to Noble Steel: “Do you have a flask of cider with you?”
The unicorn nodded and pulled a container from his bag, passing it to Twilight, who held it to Luna’s lips. Luna took a long, unsteady drink.
Reaper furrowed his brow: “Were you attacked again?”
Luna swallowed and nodded weakly: “I-I made contact with Zecora for a moment.”
Twilight’s eyebrows jumped: “Is she OK? Were you able to communicate?”
“She was clearly asleep, and I encountered her sleeping mind. I am not clear what I was seeing, but I will transcribe the symbols I saw.”
“Symbols?”
“Yes, as I said I will collect my thoughts and copy them down. Of more concern, however, is the fact that Starswirl’s name has again arisen, and I had to break off before I could get more details.”
Reaper shook his head: “That damned old warlock…”
Luna nodded: “I am sure it is important, Twilight, that you get to the root of their relationship.”
Twilight took a long drink from Noble’s flask, then passed it back to him: “It’s on the list; now it’s moved up. Noble and I will head back down as soon as you’ve had a chance to rest and jot down those symbols.”
Luna rose unsteadily to her hooves: “I understand. I will meet you in my chamber shortly--I only need an hour or so to recover my strength.”
Twilight nodded and disappeared in a flash along with Noble.
Reaper raised an eyebrow as he watched Luna for a moment: “You sure you’re OK? It would be bad for all concerned if you end up injured or, well, damaged from all this.”
Luna smiled: “I appreciate your concern, however my power is sufficient to prevent any lasting harm. I am merely fatigued.”
Reaper furrowed his brow, but nodded and faded out.
Luna turned back toward the Void for a moment and stared intently at its matte-black surface before teleporting away with a ‘pop.’
***
Where do we go when we die, Gil?
Because I Could not Stop for Death
Grey Thorn slowly raised his head: “Interesting. Somewhat mis-transcribed, but largely accurate. Where did you get this?”
Twilight stepped up beside the shimmering circles and glyphs hanging in the air between Grey Thorn and her: “Not important right now. This was your final sacrifice circle, your last attempt at control, yes?”
“More or less. I assume you cobbled this together from my notes since it is rather different from the version you saw during your last visit.”
“No. The vast majority of your books and scrolls were destroyed by Celestia when she reached peak power in an attempt to burn through your barrier wall.”
Grey Thorn nodded sadly: “I wondered what she was doing to generate that much intense light and energy. What a loss.”
Twilight chewed her lip: “I tend to agree, but aside from a few volumes I secreted away, everything you worked on is gone.”
Grey Thorn raised an eyebrow: “Even the work table? I can’t believe even Celestia has that much power!”
Twilight tipped her head slightly: “No. It’s a little worse-for-wear, but came through largely intact.”
“No surprise. It is a relic of unimaginable age. I found it on a barren, airless, charred cinder of a world, circling a burned-out sun. Clearly the star had expanded through the system, eons in the past, consuming its worlds. I took that table, knowing it would stand up to anything I could throw at it.”
“‘Throw at it?’ Like what?”
Grey Thorn smiled: “Is that the subject of our discussion this time, Princess?”
Twilight narrowed her eyes: “Sure--why not? What’s so special about that table?”
Grey Thorn raised an eyebrow: “Where did you see that sacrifice circle if not in my notes?”
Twilight grinned: “And is that your question this time?”
Grey Thorn slowly ran his tongue over his lips: “No. I suspect I’ll be able to piece that together myself, given a bit more time. Are you ready to show me how the Harbinger stripped you of his power yet?”
Twilight winced: “N-no, not yet. I--”
“Fine--another time. You recall our battle, yes?”
Twilight nodded.
“I rendered you unconscious, and sent you into a deep dream state. Tell me about that dream.”
Twilight recalled Luna’s words, and frowned: “It was your trap--surely you know what the dream was.”
Grey Thorn furrowed his brow: “I would have thought your time with Luna would have taught you a few things about dreams, child. I only tilled and fertilized the soil, as it were--you brought the seeds and saw them bloom. I have no idea what you dreamed, only that it was designed to be fully-immersive and intense.”
Twilight’s eyes darted to Noble then back to Grey Thorn; a bead of sweat ran down from her temple: “It’s--it’s personal…”
Grey Thorn half-lidded his eyes and regarded Twilight coolly: “This is all deeply personal, for both of us, Princess. Tell me of your dream, or of the Harbinger, or we will have reached an impasse, and I will lounge here pondering where you found my master circle for a very long, very silent time.”
Twilight swallowed heavily and closed her eyes: “Fine. I’ll show you…”
Twilight’s horn glowed and the trap dream flickered alive in the air above her head. Grey Thorn watched with interest, tipping his head side to side as the scenes emerged and resolved.
He tapped his chin: “Stop. Who is this mare? Is she real or a fantasy?”
Twilight glanced up at Moondancer sitting across the breakfast table: “She’s very real. Her name is Moondancer.”
“And I assume you have some sort of intimate relationship with her?”
“No. She was a friend of mine from years ago when I lived in Canterlot. I wronged and hurt her, and only recently made things right between us.”
“I see. Continue.”
Twilight bit her lip and the image sprang to life and tracked across the breakfast nook to the balcony to the kiss, Moondancer’s face filling the frame as the doorway into the bedroom slid by and Moondancer flopped across the bed, legs spread, opening wet and parted as Twilight’s point-of-view pushed in.
Grey Thorn glanced back and forth between Twilight, who sat with downcast eyes, breathing rapidly, and Noble who was staring wide-eyed at the scene hovering in the air. The unicorn shifted his hips, spread his legs slightly and licked his lips nervously. A thin smile spread across Grey Thorn’s face.
Moondancer’s cries echoed in the alcove as Twilight’s view shifted from the beige mare’s sweat-and-saliva soaked loins over her ruddy teats, ending with her flushed face and panting mouth in full view.
Twilight began trembling, and squeezed her eyes shut as the perspective panned, catching a glimpse of the window, and the bedside table with its red candle.
“Strawberries?”
Twilight began to pant and bite her lip as the scene continued, focused on the top of Moondancer’s head as she slid her mouth down dream Twilight’s belly, her mussy purple-and-rust-colored mane half-wrapped around her horn.
“Dew--Dew Drop?”
Tears leaked from beneath Twilight’s eyelids as she trembled and struggled to control her breathing through flared nostrils. Noble stared transfixed at the vision of Moondancer burying her face between Twilight’s loins.
The scene rocked back then forward as vision Twilight’s legs spread and rose, and a purple hoof came into view, resting atop Moondancer’s head.
“It’s everything I’ve ever--”
Twilight lurched unsteadily to her hooves and flared her wings: “Stop!”
Noble started, pressed his hind legs together self-consciously, moaned and shuddered.
Grey Thorn’s face went blank: “Is there a problem, Princess?”
“It--it’s e-enough! You’ve seen enough!”
A sly smile broke over Grey Thorn’s face: “How does it end?”
“You know damn good and well how it must end!”
“Oh, the orgasm I assumed--” He glanced back at Noble: “The Lieutenant’s as well. I told you to keep a cloth on you!”
Noble twisted away awkwardly and blushed: “I-I’m sorry, Twilight! I-I don’t understand…”
Twilight steadied her trembling legs: “I do! This place amplifies every image, every sound, every scent, every emotion. It’s like a lucid dream boiled down into a syrup!”
Grey Thorn nodded: “And so I repeat--I assumed your climax, but there was more to it; you were beginning to weep. How does the line end?”
Twilight swallowed and closed her eyes: “It’s everything I ever wanted--but it’s not enough.”
Grey Thorn steepled his hooves: “How telling. You had within your grasp your deepest desires, and yet it was still not enough. That speaks well of you, Princess.”
Twilight chewed her lip and looked down at her hooves.
“So what did you mean by that?”
“I--I don’t really know.”
“We’ll come back to that in a moment. I assume Luna interfered somehow. How?”
“Back when I first met Reaper he shared the only real clue left behind by Dew Drop: a strong scent of strawberries. So Luna injecting the idea of strawberries into the dream was enough to sow a seed of doubt.”
“I see. Clearly I underestimated her ability to transcend both her own trap and yours.”
Twilight looked up with a smirk, but Grey Thorn cut her off with a raised hoof: “Yes, I know--a fatal tendency of mine. We’ve already established that. Back to the bigger question: what did you mean by ‘it’s not enough?’”
“I don’t really know. Maybe I’m starting to accept that I have a bigger role in the world--that settling down and becoming, well, domestic , just isn’t in the cards.”
“What then?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, it's highly likely you are now, if not immortal, nearly enough so as to make no difference. What's to be your place as the Princess of Friendship in a world of friends you must watch die over and over for centuries.”
Twilight chewed her lip: “I-I’ll figure it out. Celestia and Luna will--”
Grey Thorn raised an eyebrow: “Do what? Celestia rides above it all, largely divorced from the day-to-day lives and deaths of mortal ponies, and Luna lurks in the shadows, indulging in endless memories and the narcotic charms of sleep.”
Grey Thorn shook his head: “No, child, they will offer you a bit of pat solace as you stand over your friends’ ever-fresh graves, but they will shrug and move on as they always have. You will be burdened with constantly making and nurturing and burying friends--it is your fate, your duty.”
Twilight began to breathe heavily: “But I’ll remember them, and--”
“And how does that help? They’ll haunt you, and even your time as Harbinger brought you no closer to the answer of their ultimate fate. You don’t seem the type who enjoys unanswered riddles, so it will gnaw at you in a way it never has for the Sisters.”
Twilight gritted her teeth and squeezed her eyes tight: “It doesn’t matter. That’s not your problem--and it’s not my problem right now, either!”
Grey Thorn smiled lightly: “No, your problem is to save yet another friend for the brief time she has left in this world.”
Twilight opened her eyes and glared: “Yes. So tell me about that fucking table!”
Grey Thorn’s eyes glittered: “You are aware, of course, that much of my magic was dark.”
“Obviously.”
“How deeply have you studied the deep magics, the oldest of the dark powers?”
“Studied? Almost none--the majority of that is locked away and largely forbidden to all but a select few. My experience with dark magic is largely self-taught.”
“As it was with me in the beginning, as well. Then you’re unaware that the most potent of eldritch spells cannot be committed to parchment, or even gold foil.”
Twilight raised an eyebrow: “No--I didn’t know that…”
“The spells themselves attempt to manifest in the very act of transcription, and burn through almost all known materials. It’s why so many of the great, dark spells of antiquity were lost: they had to be broken up across volumes, separated, transmitted orally. Over time, bits and pieces were fragmented, forgotten and lost.”
He locked eyes with Twilight pointedly: “And had to be rediscovered, all across this world, across many eras.”
Twilight furrowed her brow and tipped her head to one side. A look of surprise broke slowly across her face: “The mirrors!”
“Yes. And once I began my own research independent of Starswirl, I realized I, too, would have to find some way of shielding my mind, blotting-out my dreams, and committing my spells to some sort of medium.”
He turned his head and tipped his horn up; an image resolved in the air above Twilight.
The vision showed the smooth, speckled grey-green surface Twilight had seen before, both in earlier visions, and down in Grey Thorn’s burned-out lair. Suddenly the scene flashed a brilliant gold which deepened to a blood-red, then to an oily, iridescent black.
Twilight squinted at the now-featureless black image hanging in the air: “What’s happening? I can’t make out anything!”
“Patience.”
After a few moments a series of blurred glyphs and symbols lanced out of the gloom like lightning, etching themselves into the table for a moment before fading.
Twilight’s eyebrows shot up: “You inscribed them into the table itself? I’ve spent some time working on that table--I never saw any inscriptions!”
“You wouldn’t--they’re trapped inside it, bound between realities. They had to be summoned forth, and even then they would only flicker at the edge of my perception. It was exhausting work, trapping and recalling scores of complex equations and spells.”
“I can imagine. How would you recall them?”
“A death summons. It was the only dark magic powerful enough to recall the images from the stone legibly.”
Twilight shook her head in horror: “No! That means a constant stream of sacrifices!”
Grey Thorn smiled grimly: “Why do you think the bone pit was full?”
Noble stepped unsteadily beside Twilight and scowled: “That’s monstrous! How many ponies died for this perversion?”
“Very few, actually. The majority of my early research and travel and use of the table involved beasts of this or other worlds.”
“That’s not much better! We need to get out of here for a while, Twilight.”
Twilight chewed the inside of her mouth absentmindedly while staring at the frozen image above her head.
“Twilight!”
She blinked and drew a sharp breath in: “Sorry--was thinking. Yeah, let’s get out of here.”
She turned back toward Grey Thorn: “We’ll be back, and I need to know more about that entity!”
The corners of Grey Thorn’s mouth curled upward: “And I need to know how the Harbinger took back his power.”
Twilight glared: “Yeah, tit for tat--I know. Let’s go, Noble…”
They disappeared in a violet flash, leaving Grey Thorn staring intently at the vision of the glyphs and table, replaying it over and over, narrowing his eyes and gritting his teeth in frustration.
Noble and Twilight walked out of the archway leading back to Tartarus’ outer courtyard several minutes later. Noble stopped and faced Twilight: “So that’s a dead-end, then. Our only hope is that Luna can keep getting bits of info back from inside the Void.”
Twilight furrowed her brow: “I’m not so sure…”
“Sure about what? You can’t retrieve anything from that table, and it would take forever to extract all the info he has piecemeal--if he even remembers it anymore!”
“Maybe. There may be a way.”
Noble put up a hoof: “What--no! You can’t mean using a death summons! That’s unspeakable!”
Twilight looked away and bit her lip: “I may be able to work around that.”
“Work around a death summons?! I swear to Celestia I’ll--well--go to Celestia if I have to to stop this madness!”
Twilight glared: “You don’t know what you’re talking about! I can make this work!”
Noble bridled: “Look, I know you’re a princess and a prodigy and all that horseshit, but I’m a unicorn, too! I’m older than you, I’ve completed multiple courses of magical studies--”
“But you don’t have any experience with dark magic!”
Noble frowned: “Well, sort of--you know who did? Solar Gleam. And you recall how that turned out, don’t you?”
“He-he wasn’t prepared. He didn’t know enough…”
“You can never know enough, Twilight! Especially when you have an unreliable source like that monster down below!”
“He’s not lying about--”
“I didn’t say he was lying , I said he’s unreliable! What’s he leaving out? Why does he keep asking you these personal questions? What sort of sick kick does he get out of it?”
“I don’t know--I don’t care! Whatever he’s getting isn’t important. He doesn’t have any access to anything, has no power--”
“Really? He has information we desperately need, and you think he doesn’t have any power.”
“Not like that! And he may have just given me the key to unlock eighty percent of this problem.”
Noble tossed his head back and scowled: “Yeah, if you’re willing to perform death rituals! Are you really going to corrupt yourself for that?”
“It won’t come to that. I think I have a way around the problem that won’t involve the shedding of any blood.”
Noble raised an eyebrow: “Other than your own, I suspect.”
Twilight bit her lip and shrugged: “I’ll cross that bridge if and when I come to it. Let’s get out of here--I need to visit a place to get some answers. All this may be so much hot air, and I have to go back through some, um, notes to confirm my hunch one way or the other.”
Noble turned away as his horn began to glow: “Fine, but I’m going to talk to Luna and let her know about all this!” He disappeared with a bang.
Twilight stared at the afterglow for a moment: “You do what you have to do. So will I…”
She teleported away in a violet flash.
Twilight slowly closed the door to her room in Luna’s guest quarters and turned the lock. She walked to the foot of the bed and inscribed five glyphs on the floor; they shimmered a faint gold briefly, then faded away.
She sighed and sat on the edge of the bed, summoning a cup of wine from a nearby side table. She drained the sweet, pale-yellow wine in one long quaff, then laid back against a stack of pillows as her eyes fell shut.
Her eyes fluttered open and she gazed around Dux’a’s baths for a moment before rising from the pool and wrapping herself in a robe. She quickly made her way from the bath chambers, turned a corner and appeared on the top floor of Tal’ar’s Inn, facing a heavy, carved oak door.
Twilight took a deep breath, opened the door and stepped into the dark room beyond. Reaper stood there, white cloak pulled around him, eyes glittering in the faint firelight, sword lying on the floor between them.
Reaper glanced down at the floor: “Pick it up. It’s why you came, isn’t it?”
Twilight stepped forward, bit her lip, bent down and took the battered scabbard in her hands. She stood up and pulled the blade from its sheath.
Reaper folded his arms over his chest: “Now what? Are you taking up my mantle again?”
Twilight felt a burn on her right hip, and pulled the robe open to find the 死 symbol emblazoned on her tan skin. The sword glowed a pale crimson.
“Yes. Now take it from me again. Take this troublesome thing, and this time I won’t be surprised!”
Reaper smiled: “Take which troublesome thing? You have two.”
“What?”
“Or will you have Moondancer assist with the other ‘problem’-- or maybe Noble Steel? Once I have the sword back, I won’t really be equipped correctly anymore.”
Twilight furrowed her brow: “I don’t understand.”
Reaper pulled a stone jar from his cloak pocket and flicked a blob of its contents into the fire. Lurid flames leapt up and the room was filled with a heavy, spicy smoke.
“There are a lot of things you don’t understand, Princess.”
She glimpsed Noble Steel in a gloomy corner, nodding.
The room darkened, and bands of black smoke snaked out from the fireplace, swirling around Reaper, reaching for the sword, yanking it from Twilight’s grasp.
She lurched forward, then rocked back, resetting her feet on the cold, dusty floor of Grey Thorn’s creation chamber.
“How-how?”
Reaper stepped forward, borne up on an oily, black nimbus: “How did we get here? You mean the place of your first death? The death you still haven’t come to terms with, and now you want to try to play-act out the second one?”
Twilight fell back, open robe fluttering, the smells of smoke and spices and sweat filling the air: “I-I need to see how Death’s power was stripped from me! I need to understand the nature of a death summons, and…”
“And you cast forbidden glyphs to keep that meddling bitch at bay, and obscure yourself from me for good measure. But what about yourself, Twilight? How will you protect yourself from you?”
Twilight put up her hands and tried to cast a protection spell, but nothing happened, and she suddenly toppled backwards onto Dew Drop’s bed. Reaper was on her in an instant, driving his sword through her thigh, pinning her to the mattress.
She let out a shriek of agony and twisted, trying to pull free as the black cloud descended on her, tearing away chunks of flesh, driving itself into her mouth and eyes like a blast of hot oil.
Reaper hovered above as Twilight was torn to pieces, his eyes glittering with golden fire: “Do you understand now, Twilight? Once again you’ve lost control of a situation, and you hate to lose control! Lose yourself to control! Lose yourself!”
Twilight screamed in anguish and horror as her body disintegrated with a wet tearing sound, and her skull burst from the pressure of the nimbus that had invaded her brain, expanding until her very essence could no longer contain it.
“Oh, Reaper! Was it too much?”
She looked down from above the blood-soaked bed at the smear of entrails, brains, bone fragments and shit splattered for yards across a sandy beach, glittering with golden glyphs and runes everywhere blood had fallen.
She faintly recognized the leg stuck to the bed by a sword, and reached out with a black tendril to pull the blade free, but the inky ribbon passed through the hilt without a trace. She heard someone screaming and sobbing in the distance, but felt nothing, and allowed the cool, dark, gauze-like nimbus to pull her in as her consciousness faded.
"Twilight Sparkle, please report to the Principal’s office!”
“Twilight, wake up! Oh, for pity’s sake please wake up!”
Celestia stood beside Twilight’s urine-and-sweat-soaked bed, shaking the convulsing, screaming, blank-eyed alicorn with her magic.
“Twilight! Please snap out of this! You’re in some kind of trance! Luna--where are you? I need your help!”
Luna appeared in the doorway a moment later and skidded to a sudden stop at the foot of the bed. She furrowed her brow, tipped her horn down and swept the floor with a band of dark magic.
“What devilry is this? There are runes of warding on the floor which prevent me from detecting sleep! I have seen their like before!”
Celestia stepped beside her sister and pointed her own horn at the floor, scorching a yard-wide section of the tile with a pass of white-hot energy. Luna nodded and a silvery ribbon snaked its way from her horn to Twilight’s.
The purple alicorn instantly went still and quiet; her eyes slowly closed. She let out a deep sigh, and began to weep.
Luna knelt beside the bed, wrinkling her nose at the smell: “Twilight! What have you done? I do not understand!”
Twilight’s fully-dilated eyes fluttered open and she stared blankly at the ceiling, a trickle of blood running down from her nose: “I do. I understan-stand now what I have to d-do.”
Because I Could not Stop for Death
Dusk settled across Canterlot, throwing multi-hued bands of color across the white marble table in Celestia’s dimly-lit solarium. Twilight sat with her back to the windows, a hood pulled over her head and a plug of bloody gauze in her left nostril. Celestia sat across the table, flanked by Luna and Reaper; Noble paced nervously by the door leading out to the garden.
Celestia tentatively lifted a cup of tea to her lips and took a sip before clearing her throat: “Are you sure you want to meet now, Twilight? The Royal Surgeon is quite concerned by your condition, and doesn’t want you out of bed until at least tomorrow morning.”
Twilight twitched as she pulled a half-full chalice toward her with trembling hooves. She leaned forward to slurp at the wine noisily: “N-no...I-I-I have to do this n-now. I-I know wh-what I have to d-do, and-and you need t-to know, too.”
She turned toward Luna and Reaper and squinted at them as her hind legs suddenly twitched: “And I-I’m s-sorry about the blocking gl-glyphs, but I had to had to be alone f-for a while. I had to know had to--”
She stopped, tipped her head sideways and tapped her right ear: “Does ev-everypony else hear that?”
Celestia glanced at the other ponies around the room and shook her head: “No, Twilight--none of us hear anything.”
Twilight furrowed her brow and tapped her ear again: “I-I’m having trouble with my l-left ear…”
“That’s your right ear, Twilight.”
Twilight closed her eyes and chuckled: “Of course it-it is…”
Reaper leaned forward: “What is it you know now, Twilight? Why did you block Luna?”
Twilight’s eyes fluttered open, though her right lid drooped: “I-I can’t explain it. And-and nopony here but y-you two would understand it. C-can I share the memory? It will will all make m-more sense.”
Luna and Reaper exchanged worried glances, stood and walked around the table, flanked Twilight, leaned down and touched their horns to hers. Reaper faded slightly, while Luna’s eyes went blank, then slowly closed.
Two minutes later Reaper straightened up and took a step back, but Luna stayed in place, stock-still with tears leaking from beneath her eyelids. Reaper stepped behind Twilight and gently shook Luna’s shoulder.
Luna’s eyes snapped open and she swallowed heavily: “Thank you--I was having difficulty disentangling myself from her memory.”
Twilight tipped forward suddenly, nearly hitting her head on the table before lurching back upright. She tried to focus on Luna and Reaper as they moved back to the other side of the table: “So, you-you saw, right?”
Reaper nodded: “Your death visions, yes.”
Twilight nodded and pulled her wine cup back toward her, nearly spilling it: “Right, but-but not the same way. I had to see inside this time, in a w-way you two can’t.”
Luna raised an eyebrow: “What do you mean?”
“Luna--Death’s power nev-never really manifested in you, not like it did in m-me, right?”
Luna nodded: “It blossomed fully at the very end of our time on Kur, but I was not really in touch with anything by that point.”
“Sure, and you, Reaper--you and I shared Death’s power as Har-Harb-Harbinger, but you’re not a real unicorn, so you don’t understand how m-magic works and flows.”
She stuck her muzzle into the cup and took a long, noisy drink: “I’m the only pony who’s seen death and and dark magic combined and manipulated--the only pony who-who’s done it since Grey Thorn.”
She leaned back and took a deep breath: “I had to watch my life essence be-being pulled away, feel the darkness closing in, this time being f-fully conscious of it, knowing it was hap-happening, so I could look for de-details.”
Reaper chewed his lip for a moment: “Alright, so I understand your tactics, but not your strategy. Why do you need to know the intimate details of how your essence was stripped away?”
“Because it’s-it’s what Grey Thorn kept doing, it’s what the Void does, and I have to to under-understand it all before I can finish it.”
Celestia furrowed her brow: “‘Finish?’ Finish what, Twilight?”
Twilight’s eyes lost focus as she stared past Celestia at the wall behind her. An uncomfortable silence settled on the room.
Luna cleared her throat: “Finish what, Twilight?”
Twilight shook her head as her eyes found Luna’s face: “Finish what? Oh, right--sorry. I have to finish the Void.”
Celestia’s eyes went wide: “What? Finish it? We have to open it, then destroy it!”
Twilight nodded: “S-sure, but we can’t j-just tear it open. We-we’ve already seen a taste of what that that would l-look like. Remember Whinneapolis?”
She turned toward Luna: “You know that thi-thing inside the Void? Can you imagine what would happen if it g-got out because the Void totally ruptured?”
Luna chewed her lip: “It would be a catastrophe.”
“Right. And tha-that’s to say no-nothing of the collapse of the containment vessel it-itself. I have only the v-v-vaguest sense of how it works, but I’m terrified of what I d-do know.”
Celestia furrowed her brow: “How can you complete it? I assume Grey Thorn did as much as is possible to finish his creation before unleashing it.”
Twilight sniffed at the bloody plug in her nose and took another sloppy drink of wine: “O-OK, so Grey Thorn’s really smart, right? And-and he’s powerful and spent dec-dec...years studying with Starswirl, yes?”
Reaper nodded: “That appears to be the story.”
“But for all that, he-he’s lazy. Oh, I don’t mean he-he’s lazy in the 'not a hard worker' sense. He clearly trans-transcribed hundreds of pages of notes and spell scrolls, for S-Starswirl alone.”
She turned her head, coughed and spat into a bucket on the floor next to her. She dragged the back of a shaky hoof across her mouth: “No, he he was intellectually lazy. He suffers from the ‘Smartest-Kid-in-Class’ syndrome.”
Celestia nodded: “Does just enough to get by based on superior talent.”
“Right, and his talent was enough to take him a l-long way, get him into a b-bunch of trouble.”
“So he was shortcutting?”
Twilight squinted as her horn started to flicker violet then gold then sputter with dark magic: “Damn! Give me a minute…”
She rubbed her temples and jerked her head upward. Her hood fell back and a pair of glyph-filled circles materialized in the air over the table. Celestia peered at them intently: “What are these?”
Twilight took another swig of wine: “The one on the left is the cir-circle that Luna brought back, that somehow Zecora must have seen. The one on the right is the one Gr-Grey Thorn showed me. Do you see how the circle and it-its glyphs changed and evolved?”
Luna furrowed her brow and pointed at a pair of glittering golden symbols: “These are power symbols, yes?”
Twilight nodded and shuddered: “Right. He probably went through a dozen iterations before just giv-giving up and forcing in as much raw magic as his lifeforce could channel.”
She highlighted the symbols so all could see them clearly: “It’s like a f-foal with a puzzle--he gets frustrated and smooshes in a piece just to finish the puzzle, even though it d-doesn’t really fit.”
Celestia leaned forward and wrinkled her nose in disgust at the sacrifice circles: “Why? What drove him?”
“At the end? He had already poured so m-much of himself into his creation he couldn’t stop--he had to finish it s-so he could recoup energy from it.”
Reaper nodded: “Alright, but before that, why? What drove him to shortcuts to begin with? Surely this is the end of a flawed process years in the making.”
Twilight turned to Reaper: “You.”
Reaper’s eyebrows jumped: “Me?”
Twilight packed a fresh plug of gauze into her nostril and spat again: “OK, so not exactly you. But I’m sure now that Grey Th-Thorn knew you’d visited Starswirl, and I think he began to rush his own research, as well as step-up his pl-plans to duplicate and secure his mentor’s research. He knew Starswirl didn’t have long, and I sus-suspect he was beginning to feel his own mortality creeping up on him, too.”
Celestia took a sip of tea: “And so he started cutting corners.”
“Not just started, I think it’s the-the way he works: he does things eighty-five percent of the way, then moves on. I think he gets impatient to solve the B-Big Problems without wrapping-up-up the small ones, too.”
“And it caught up with him.”
“Yeah, long ago, and he just kept compounding th-the problem.”
Luna tapped the table: “This is all well-and-good, but how do you propose to complete what the master of these things himself could not, given decades of work?”
“Fair question. He never really had anypony to check his math, as it w-were. He had s-some cohorts, but I think he kept most of the darkest, most-s-secret stuff to himself.”
She glanced back up at the images of the sacrifice circles, still hanging in the air: “I’m going to do the one thing I hate--finish somepony else’s ho-homework.”
“How? All his notes were undoubtedly destroyed, to say nothing of the impossibility of triggering a sacrifice circle!”
Twilight bit her lip: “I can solve b-both those things.”
Celestia tipped her head sideways and raised an eyebrow.
Twilight smiled wanly: “First things f-first. Do you all re-remember the table down in Grey Th-Thorn’s lair?”
Luna nodded: “Yes. You and I used it to solve the riddle of the mirror.”
“Right. And I didn’t know this until Grey Thorn told me, b-but the oldest and m-most powerful of dark spells couldn’t be committed to parchment or even g-gold foil.”
Celestia furrowed her brow: “Correct--they would consume the materials--even crystal. It's why all those ancient, evil spells were eventually lost.”
Twilight shook her head: “N-not all. Grey Thorn discovered th-that table on a long-dead world that had been sc-scorched bare by its s-sun. He figured it could withstand the most powerful spells.”
Reaper shrugged and turned toward Celestia: “Based on what you did to the rest of that library, it seems he may have been right.”
Luna chewed her lip for a moment: “But I recall no marks or writing of any sort.”
“True. Th-that’s because he used dark magic to implant his spells and equations and notes deep within th-the material itself, trap-trapping it interdimensionally.”
Celestia tapped on the table before her: “But how can you get it back out?”
Noble Steel leaned forward, eyes locked onto Twilight’s: “Yes, Twilight--how do you plan to unwind his darkest spells?”
Twilight’s eyes flicked for a moment from Noble’s to the sacrifice circle hovering above, then back down at her wine cup.
Luna’s eyes widened and her nostrils flared: “You cannot! None here would allow you to sacrifice another in order to activate that accursed circle!”
Twilight rolled her goblet nervously between her hooves: “Don’t have to--I figured it out.”
Celestia shook her head: “How? This requires the destruction of a life, and I will not allow even a lowly beast to be--”
“No. Th-there’s another way.”
The images of the sacrifice circles faded, and a new scene flickered into view: Twilight standing over a pinkish, vaguely-pony-shaped object next to a pond.
Celestia tipped her head sideways and squinted: “This is from your last trip to Phillydelphia--with Zecora, yes?”
“Yes, and we brought ba-back an animated corpse--well, maybe ‘animated’ isn’t quite the r-right word. Maybe more like ‘haunted,’ in a way.”
Reaper nodded: “I’ve meant to ask you about that thing. I’d like to take a look at it. You claim it was functioning independent of the Void’s tendrils.”
“Right. Sometimes certain elements would break off and act on their own. They were still clearly be-being guided, but had some freedom.”
Luna furrowed her brow and pointed at the image: “And you believe this thing is still in that state? Even after the fall of the Void?”
“I do. That pink stuff of Zecora’s is fan-fantastic stuff. I believe that haunted corpse is still haunted.”
Noble drained a mug of cider: “So? How does that help?”
“It’s my sacrifice.”
Celestia raised an eyebrow: “How can you sacrifice something that’s already dead?”
“The Vo-Void did it for weeks. I can tap Death’s energy and adapt Gr-Grey Thorn’s sacrifice circle to accommodate it.”
She looked around the table at the worried, skeptical faces and shuddered before swallowing a mouthful of wine and clearing her throat: “Only I can do this. Only I have all the experiences and power needed. I’ve channeled power directly to the Void, I’ve wielded D-Death’s power, I can use dark magic, I understand Grey Thorn’s sa-sacrifice circles.”
Celestia chewed her lip: “Even if I understand this correctly, and no living thing will be compromised, doesn’t it still put you at grave risk? Isn’t this just the sort of thing that ate away at Grey Thorn?”
Twilight took a deep breath and closed her eyes: “Yes, but I don’t need to empty my-myself for this, just use the power I already have.”
Reaper rubbed his chin: “And the residual power of death entombed in that corpse.”
Twilight nodded and wobbled slightly: “Right. I can u-use that in place of a living creature, and summon up Gr-Grey Thorn’s notes and gl-glyphs and whatnot.”
Celestia swirled the lees in her cup and stared at the image of the magenta-bound corpse: “I don’t know, Twilight…”
Twilight opened her mouth to speak then suddenly sneezed, spattering the table in front of her with bloody snot: “Eww! S-sorry! Look, this is the only way. It’ll take me forev-ever to get all I need out of Grey Thorn, if I even can. I really d-don’t think he remembers everything anymore.”
Celestia closed her eyes and sighed: “Fine. But not alone. Somepony has to be with you. I don’t trust any of this not to go terribly wrong!”
Twilight rubbed the back of a hoof across her nose: “I ag-agree. It’ll have to be R-Reaper.”
Noble raised an eyebrow: “Why?”
Reaper steepled his hooves: “Because I’m unaffected by this kind of thing. Death’s energy, by definition, simply flows around me, and should anything go wrong, I can’t possibly be harmed or sacrificed, since I’m neither alive nor dead.”
“Then what can you do?”
“I can pull Twilight back from the brink if I detect her essence is beginning to drain. I can phase the both of us and remove her, if needs be.”
Noble chewed the inside of his mouth for a moment: “Then why can't you simply phase into the table itself and extract the information?”
Twilight smiled wanly: “Good thinking, N-Noble, but no. It would be like sending somepony in-into a mine without illumination: they could get into the m-mine, but would have no way of f-finding anything.”
Luna nodded: “So the sacrifice circle and its attendant spells act like a light source.”
“Right, and since Reaper doesn’t have nearly the skill or raw m-magical power--no offense…”
Reaper shook his head: “None taken!”
“He can’t cast the sp-spells.”
Reaper shrugged: “Or interpret anything even if I did manage to find relevant information.”
Celestia sat down her cup: “Then it appears we have no choice but to go through with this, dangerous though it clearly is. I’ll go to the secured chamber containing the bound corpse and take it down to Grey Thorn’s old library when the time comes.”
She furrowed her brow as she watched Twilight wobble as she stood: “But I hope it can wait for a bit--you’re clearly in no shape to be attempting strong magic!”
Twilight drifted toward the door, then stopped and looked over her shoulder: “Oh, no--not at all! No, I’m leaving to go to the bathroom so I don’t pu-puke all over your table!”
She leaned against the entryway and looked at Luna: “Could y-you come to my room in a bit, Luna? I really need to spend a bit of time in Dux’a’s baths. That’ll help me cl-clear my mind and decompress. I have to get this ringing out of my...out of my head, or I’ll never be able to focus.”
Luna stood and joined Twilight in the doorway, helping the young alicorn out of the solarium: “Of course! I shall await you there.”
Celestia watched her protégé and sister leave, then turned to Reaper: “Can you really protect her if this goes badly?”
Reaper shrugged: “I can’t answer with absolute certainty, but I think so.”
Noble raised an eyebrow: “You think so?”
“We’re dealing with a twisting of the fundamental powers of life and death, here. Things are being done, and have been done, that should never have been in the first place. I can’t answer with absolute precision.”
Celestia smiled sadly: “Another ‘leap of faith?’”
Reaper grinned: “We have been doing rather a lot of that lately, haven’t we?”
Noble persisted: “OK, but what if it does go wrong? What then?”
Reaper stood and adjusted his cloak and sword. He glanced from Celestia back to Noble: “If it looks like she’s about to lose her very essence--to have her lifeforce stripped away, I’ll put an end to it cleanly.”
He nodded to Celestia and faded out.
Noble furrowed his brow and turned to Celestia: “Did he mean…?”
Celestia stood and closed her eyes: “Yes, Lieutenant--if Reaper deems it necessary to prevent Twilight from destroying her own spirit, he will kill her.”
She turned and briskly walked from the room, leaving Noble alone.
Because I Could not Stop for Death
Twilight leaned back against Eska’s chest as the parzaile worked soaproot into her scalp and poured hot water through her long brown hair and down her back. Nahko sat on her left side and worked pumice down her arm, scouring her tan skin to a light pink. She rose, switched sides and began to work Twilight’s right arm.
Luna sat cross-legged outside the pool on a mat on the opposite edge, naked save for a hot towel draped around her shoulders, her hands folded in her lap, luxuriating in the heat coming off the fire pit behind her.
She glanced from Twilight’s breasts, rising and falling slowly and steadily, to her lined face and half-opened, unfocused eyes: “I hope this is helping, Twilight. I am deeply concerned with what I saw in your dream, and would urge you not to attempt directed, lucid dreaming again without my guidance.”
Twilight took a deep, shuddering breath, turned slightly and lifted her right leg out of the water. Nahko slid her hip against Twilight’s, took Twilight’s leg across her lap and began to work pumice into the thigh.
Twilight’s eyes opened fully and found Luna’s back-lit form across the bath: “I know, Luna, and I’m sorry. But I didn’t think you’d help me, and I had to see beyond the visions, to pierce The Veil.”
Luna nodded: “I understand, but we are not dealing with normal dreams or nightmares, here–these are visions and impressions of extraordinary, almost supernatural power and impact. Even I have yet to work through my own experiences, and I have a wealth of tools at my disposal!”
Twilight shuddered: “It was horrible! I didn’t expect it to be that bad. I thought I could control it, since I had already experienced it once–or twice , I suppose.”
Luna smiled and conjured a small stone jar into the palm of her hand: “That is a dangerous assumption under the best of circumstances, and doubly so when you introduce this wild-card!”
Twilight squinted: “Oh, that’s the mets’il, isn’t it? Yeah, I didn’t intend for it to show up this last time!”
Luna shook her head and crushed the jar, which disappeared in a puff of indigo smoke: “For you mets’il represents those aspects of your deep psyche you feel–and secretly wish–were uncontrolled and untamed. By definition it is unpredictable and hazardous.”
Twilight nodded: “Well, that is kind of how you described it. I guess I took it too much to-heart!”
Luna glanced at Nahko and Eska and blushed: “I give you full marks for accurately representing its effects in your own dreams. That said, allow me to introduce you to a somewhat less-risky alternative.”
She nodded and Nahko held out her hand, which now contained a plug of zaka. Twilight took and examined it closely.
Luna unfolded her legs and slipped into the water: “That is zaka. It has some of the same effects, but at a much lower intensity. Its effects are predictable, and in the real world it also excels at encouraging sleep and diminishing pain. Put it in your mouth and chew.”
Twilight placed the greenish mass into her mouth and began to slowly chew: ”Reminds me of alfalfa…”
Luna nodded as she settled into to water, her black hair floating like a cape around her shoulders: “That was my impression the first time I tasted it, as well.”
Twilight’s eyes drifted shut as Nahko worked on her feet and Eska began rubbing oil into her shoulders and breasts: “This is better–not as harsh. I don’t see everything in hyper-real colors; everything doesn’t glow.”
Luna took a long drink of jetutko from a mug that had just appeared in her hand: “Tell me honestly, Twilight–have you used those blocking wards before?”
“No–haven’t needed to. But I had to be alone earlier today. I think if I had told you my plan and you had honestly tried not to interfere, you still would have stepped in at the end. It was too much…”
“I am glad you understand that, now.”
“But that’s the thing: it had to be too much. I had to lose myself to it and be torn to pieces again, so I could put everything back together like a puzzle. I guess I secretly did want the mets’il there...”
Twilight leaned her head back and moaned as Eska’s fingertips dug into her neck, then ran down her chest, and back under her jawline: “Oh, Luna–you really imagined these two perfectly! I never thought a pony could understand fingers, but you clearly do!”
Luna smiled and took another sip: “Well, it was here under our two attendants’, shall we say, ministrations , that I learned what a revelation fingers are. I have not forgotten.”
Twilight furrowed her brow: “What do you mean…? Oh.”
She blushed and bit her lip: “So you really got to know Eska’s fingers!”
Luna grinned: “Among other parts, yes. There was a fair amount of mets’il and wine involved as well, and the memory of that encounter is quite vivid–it informs some of what you experience here.”
Twilight silently chewed her zaka for a bit then furrowed her brow: “OK, so on that, may I ask you a personal question?”
“Of course.”
“I know about Celestia’s ‘Honored Consorts’–it’s one of Canterlot’s worst-kept secrets.”
Luna chuckled: “I am fairly sure she knows that you all know, but keeps up appearances in any event.”
Twilight smiled and rolled over onto her stomach so Nahko could work oil into her back and buttocks: “Naturally, but that’s not your way, is it?”
“No.”
“Not even before Nightmare Moon?”
Luna shuddered: “No, and you know now how those centuries went.”
“Why not?”
“I am solitary by nature, and would watch ponies’ fantasies, sometimes even disguising myself and slipping inside the dream to join them.”
Twilight nodded: “Which went bad during…”
Luna sighed: “Exactly. It is why, in part, I have not returned to the practice in the last nearly three years, and why I never will again.”
“Then how, I mean, if , then how…?”
Luna took another deep drink and smiled indulgently: “I understand your confusion, Twilight. I have largely put aside such feelings, but on those rare occasions I feel the need, I visit the spa in Ponyville and share my pleasure with Aloe and Lotus.”
Twilight’s eyebrows jumped: “Oh, my!”
“Please let that be our little secret.”
“Oh, of course! But that raises another question.”
“Yes?”
Twilight raised up out of the water and bent over the edge of the pool, arms crossed beneath her chin. She stared down at the mosaic surround and sighed heavily as Eska came up over her back and began driving her elbow deep between Twilight’s shoulder blades.
“What happens when they die?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you’ll have had some intimate connection to them for years, I would assume. Won’t it hurt to see them pass while you remain ageless? Celestia avoids this by quick rotations, yes?”
“Correct. My sister historically has only taken lovers for the briefest period.”
Twilight moaned as her spine cracked: “Ohh...but will you? Can you be that detached? Aloe and Lotus are real ponies, not dream figures.”
Luna shifted uncomfortably and refilled her cup with a wave of her hand: “I do not entirely know. Why do you ask?”
“Because I have to figure all of this out at some point.”
“There is no hurry, Twilight. After all, you have yet to even take a lover, though I recall your dream…”
Twilight blushed: “No–Moondancer’s not my lover. Maybe she could have been, once, or maybe still could be–I don’t know. But I do know that I’ll have to watch her and all my other friends die, and their children and their children.”
“That has been my fate and Celestia’s for millennia now.”
“True, but Celestia kind of keeps aloof, and you, by your own admission, are something of a loner. I’m the Princess of Friendship–I don’t have those luxuries. I have to engage, make friends, mingle, grow close, otherwise what’s the damn point?”
Luna chewed her lip: “You will find your own way, Twilight, as we all ultimately must.”
“But this wasn’t my way! I never asked for any of this! Celestia never warned me, never–”
“True, but we will be there for you as you go forward, forging your destiny, and–”
Twilight spat out the zaka, turned over suddenly and slid back into the water: “And what, Luna? Take solace in Celestia’s sad expression after I bury another friend?”
Luna stood and slid effortlessly through the water, arms outstretched. She took Twilight’s face in her elegant, dark hands and wiped away the hot tears running down Twilight’s flushed cheeks: “These last few months have been a shock to us all, Twilight. Let me help guide you into a deep, soothing slumber so that you may recover your strength. Your concerns should be addressed, but now you need–”
Twilight bit her lip and glanced away: “The narcotic charms of sleep…”
Luna raised an eyebrow as she brushed a lock of wet hair from Twilight’s eyes: “Not quite the expression I would have used, but yes.”
She leaned forward and kissed Twilight on the forehead and guided her limp body back into the water, where Nahko and Eska were waiting to cradle her in their arms.
“I will have my bath attendants clean and groom you while you sleep so that you awaken refreshed in body and mind.”
Twilight’s breathing deepened as she slipped out of consciousness: “Thank you, Luna...I’m sorry...I didn’t mean…”
Luna smiled sadly and faded away, leaving the baths wrapped in heavy shadow, lit only by flickering firelight, as the parzailen stroked Twilight’s hair.
Zecora stirred and roused from her sleep, stiff and cold. She peered about the dim, hazy interior of the temple-library, and spied Gil drifting near the entrance, nodding silently toward Kla’atra.
Zecora rose to her hooves and walked unsteadily across the cracked floor, attracting Bramble’s attention: “You feeling OK? Did you dream?”
Zecora stopped and furrowed her brow: “Briefly yes, though I only remember a fragment. I know I made contact with Luna, but I have no idea how long I’ve been asleep.”
Bramble tapped his chin: “Felt like four hours, maybe more; it’s a little hard to tell in this place. Kla’atra can probably tell you–she has a real good sense of time.”
“That actually must be awful, here. I think I wouldn’t want to know how long I’d been trapped in this place, to be honest.”
Bramble smiled wistfully: “There are actually times when I sit very still and begin to fade, that I can forget I’m here. I can almost remember what it was like to be alive.”
Zecora sat down and took out her water bottle: “‘Alive.’ But you never really died, so I’m not sure–”
Bramble’s eyes hardened as he shuddered: “Oh, it was far worse than death! You can’t imagine what it was like to be torn away from your body and funneled through that accursed circle!”
Zecora swallowed and shook her head: “No–I certainly can’t! Seeing what it did to Solar Gleam was bad enough!”
Bramble nodded: “Yes–now imagine you’re the one doing that to yourself!”
Zecora’s eyes widened: “Surely after the first time you knew how awful it was!”
“Yes.”
“Then why...”
“He had already committed to it–he couldn’t stop without admitting it was a terrible mistake. He had to push through in an attempt to salvage something .”
Zecora capped her water bottle and furrowed her brow: “‘He?’ But he’s you ! I don’t understand.”
Bramble smiled sadly: “As the last bits of my former selves faded away, I stopped thinking of myself as ‘Grey Thorn,’ and just became Bramble again. It allowed me reclaim a little of myself, from back before he became obsessed with death and Starswirl.”
“So do you have all your–his memories from his whole life?”
“Not exactly. I am who he was as a colt, and those are the memories and emotions I recall most clearly. His later years are more like stories to me: I know them, but don’t have any real connection to them.”
“But you remember Starswirl–you were his ward, yes?”
“Right–he found me dying on the Northern heath, lying by my dead dam. He raised me, but was never what I would call a parent to me.”
“Was he cruel or neglectful?”
“No, not really, he was just far more interested in his studies and research and travels and Celestia.”
“Celestia?”
“I was just a foal, but I could sense his interest in both the Royal Sisters.”
“Romantic?”
“Yeah, but that was just a piece of it, and of course I didn’t really understand that. I know he was most interested in their immortality.”
“Not their power?”
Bramble shook his head: “No, he was very powerful in his own right, and believed that the Sisters’ real power was due to their immortality–that the longer they lived the more their power grew.”
“Was he right?”
Bramble’s face took on a far-away look: “Grey Thorn never figured it out. He grew obsessed with his creation and forgot all about the Sisters after Starswirl died.”
“Except for Luna.”
Bramble smiled: “Not Luna, really–Nightmare Moon. He was almost as obsessed with her as he was with immortality.”
Zecora nodded: “Again, romantically.”
Bramble raised an eyebrow: “I was a colt, but I’d seen my share of fucking among the castle servants and guards. I absolutely knew in later days what Grey Thorn wanted from Nightmare Moon!”
He glanced at the shade sprawled on its sagging couch: “You’ll see some of that soon, from another version of him.”
Zecora chewed her lip: “But his lust wasn’t just for sex.”
“No. That was some of it, but it was all mixed-up with her power in the dreamscape. Grey Thorn realized that with her by his side, and Celestia unable to act in the dreamscape, he could do anything he wanted without ever having to physically move his unstable creation.”
“So he just stayed down in his lair and haunted the dreamscape.”
“More or less.”
Zecora pulled a bit of dried fruit from her bag: “Then I must be missing something.”
“What?”
“He was secure in his lair, he had his creation working–more or less–Celestia was unable to police the dreamscape, and Luna was now Nightmare Moon.”
“Yes?”
“So why didn’t Grey Thorn move forward with his plan? Wasn’t it his desire to partner with Nightmare Moon? Why did he merely lurk for all those centuries?”
Bramble smiled sadly: “Again, remember that I recall all of this as though I had read it in a book, or something, so take this with a grain of salt.”
Zecora nodded as she chewed.
“It was fear.”
“Of what?”
“He was afraid of rejection.”
“By Nightmare Moon?”
“Yes. He lived in fear of everything, eventually: rejection, intimacy, being discovered, and he feared death most of all.”
“And so he simply sat–”
“In the dark, in his lair for all those centuries–yes. Eventually the dark and the emptiness and his own creation must have eaten away at what was left after he’d literally torn himself to shreds to achieve his poisoned goal.”
Bramble looked back over his shoulder toward the shade and shook his head: “He learned all the wrong lessons from Starswirl, and ended up with an even worse fate.”
“How do you mean?”
“Starswirl feared death, too–he feared its final, unknowable quality. He called it ‘impenetrable,’ and finally gave up, realizing what it would cost him to go beyond The Veil.”
Zecora nodded, stood, stretched and began walking slowly towards Gil and Kla’atra: “Apparently Grey Thorn thought he could figure it out, if he just tried hard enough, sacrificed enough.”
Bramble closed his eyes and bowed his head: “Yes. But sometimes just trying hard isn’t enough, sacrificing isn’t enough, even if you surrender everything.”
He fell in behind Zecora with a sigh: “You still fail if you were wrong to begin with.”
Because I Could not Stop for Death
Zecora trotted briskly behind Bramble as Green Streak, Kla’atra and Gil swept past, heading further up the long slope beyond the temple-library. The light was fading, making it difficult for Zecora to discern distance.
“Where are we going?”
Gil glanced back over his shoulder: “There's another sheltered location beyond this ridge. It lies alongside the stream that comes down from the Swamp, and marks the lowest reaches of the Swamp itself.”
He turned forward: “At least it did the last time I was this way. There’s been so much upheaval lately, it’s hard to tell what may have changed.”
Bramble nodded: ”Some things have changed, but the outlines of the Swamp are pretty much where they were--at least they were when I found Green Streak.”
“Is the entrance still in the same place?”
“Pretty much.”
Zecora furrowed her brow: “Entrance? Is this another building?”
Gil shook his head: “Building, no--construct, yes. This particular shelter lies beneath the surface, like a barrow.”
“How is it sheltered?”
“It’s propped-up and reinforced with more of the alien metal you saw back at the Compound. These particular pieces were cut down deeply into the ground, bent and buried, making it impossible to remove them.”
Kla’ata’s eyes flashed silvery-blue: “It should have been most useful to extract more of this particular hoard in order to being strengthening the Compound, but it could not have been.”
Gil nodded: “Again, the chunks are simply too big and dense for the two of us to dislodge. It was frustrating.”
“I can imagine.”
“We did manage to excavate a kind of cave, with a protected tunnel that exits right at the base of the Swamp. That’ll give us some cover, for a time.”
“Which could have been useful, given it may well have become dark, soon.”
Zecora furrowed her brow and shifted the saddlebag as she trotted: “I noticed it getting dark again, but I’m sure I’ve been here more than just one day.”
Gil nodded: “Yes--you’ve been here just shy of three days, as the outside world would have experienced it.”
“Three? It’s so hard for me to tell.”
“I understand, and the change of light has nothing to do with the passage of time, in the normal sense.”
“Then what--”
“The Sentinel: its energy ebbs and flows according to a relatively-predictable pattern.”
Bramble shrugged: “Well, it was predictable!”
“True--the events of the last few months have thrown the Sentinel’s behavior completely off-model. But I suspect that one thing hasn’t changed: it’s most dangerous when it goes dark.”
Kla’atra’s eyes flashed then glowed a pale green: “It would have been best for us to hurry. The Sentinel will have been stirring!”
Zecora sped up to keep pace, when she suddenly stumbled and groaned.
Gil turned back: “Are you hurt? What’s wrong?”
“It--it’s my stomach! I was just hit with cramps! I have to stop for a minute…”
Gil shook his head: “We don’t have a minute--you just have to make it past this ridge, and down into the defile beyond, then you can stop.”
Zecora grimaced and lurched forward, following close behind Gil as the light faded, throwing the approaching hollow into deep shadow. Kla’atra gave out a sharp click and hiss as a band of darkness swept overhead.
“We shall have been making haste! Please to have hurried!”
The air throbbed with a deep hum, and the hair along Zecora’s spine rose. Green Streak and Kla’atra dove through a dark crevice gouged into a low bank, as Gil and Bramble fell back to flank the stumbling, panting zebra.
Bramble dashed in front of Zecora, waving Gil off: “Go! I’ll buy her a few more seconds!”
Gil nodded and surged toward the opening: “Hurry! Your bluff won’t last long!”
Bramble’s horn glowed a bright gold as a cloud of impenetrable blackness began to coalesce around him and Zecora.
He tossed his head back: “When you see a burst of light, run as fast as you can--don’t look back!”
“But--”
Bramble’s horn turned blinding white: “Go! Don’t waste this!”
Zecora squinted and turned away as the defile was filled with a blinding light, and a high-pitched whistle. She staggered forward in fear and pain, focused on Kla’atra’s pale blue eyes glowing out from the cave’s entrance.
She cleared the last few feet and lunged inside the cave as the light behind her was suddenly extinguished under a bitterly-cold, black wave. She rolled on her side and groaned as her bowels spasmed and emptied, and consciousness slipped away.
“Zecora--can you hear me?”
“Is she still alive?”
“Yes. Zecora! Wake up!”
Zecora’s eyes opened a slit and she struggled to focus on the indistinct blob hovering in front of her face: “Wh-who is this who disturbs my sleep / are you in my dream or do you vigil keep?”
Gil drifted back from the zebra’s face: “You’re not dreaming--you passed out.”
Zecora sighed heavily, shook her head and rose unsteadily to her hooves. She looked back over her shoulder at the mess on the cave floor and her right flank: “Oh, I wish I’d had a few extra moments to take care of business, first!”
Her eyebrows jumped: “Was I rhyming just then?”
Gil nodded: “Yes, which is very odd. You said when we first met that you always speak in rhyme, but this was the first time I’ve heard you do it spontaneously.”
Zecora furrowed her brow and stumbled against the cave wall: “Actually, when I encountered Luna I communicated in rhyme as well. I wonder why?”
“Perhaps the inversion of this place as an analog for the dreamscape has caused your own dreams to invert as well, returning you to normal.”
“I’m actually more concerned about the cramping and the unfortunate--mess . I’ve had little to eat or drink, but aside from the effects of hunger and thirst, I can’t see why I should be sick.”
Gil frowned: “You’re dying.”
“What?”
“Well, to be more accurate, parts of you are dying. Your life force and immune system are enough to keep you going for some time, but there’s more alive in this place than just one zebra.”
He pointed at her abdomen.
Zecora chewed her lip for a moment: “My gut.”
“Exactly. The bacteria in your gut are dying. If you feel like walking I can show you something.”
Zecora leaned away from the wall and turned toward the entrance as Gil glided past: “Are we going back out there? Is it safe?”
“Just a little, and no. But we only need stick our heads out a bit and I’ll throw a little light on the subject.”
Zecora stopped cold: “‘A little light!’ Bramble! What--”
Gil smiled and waved a hoof dismissively: “He’s fine. He came in just as his light show faded and made sure you were OK before heading down into the cave. We’ll reconnect with him shortly.”
Zecora breathed a sigh of relief and tentatively stuck her head out the cave’s entrance. Gil floated beside her and brightened his horn.
He tipped his head down and to the left, illuminating a dessicated unicorn carcass lying two yards from the cave’s mouth: “This was one of the few bodies pulled in largely intact over the centuries. It belonged to Sweet Spring.”
Zecora looked puzzled: “Somepony else was pulled in alive?”
“Oh, I didn’t say ‘alive,’ just ‘intact.’ No she was slain not long after I was, and in a similar fashion, though she was, sadly, quite aware something dire was happening to her at the time.”
“Then how--”
“Grey Thorn dumped her body in as a test. He was still experimenting, even at that late stage.”
Gil pointed at the remains: “Notice how it’s only partly decomposed?”
“Yes--it almost looks mummified.”
“Pretty close to that, actually. The bacteria and whatnot died after a few days--drained of their life force, leaving the body sterilized. It slowly dried out, and has remained untouched for nearly a thousand years, now.”
Zecora shuddered as another wave of cramps passed through her bowels. She stepped back inside the cave and pulled out her water bottle.
Green Streak stepped beside Gil as he drifted back from the opening: “What happened to my body?”
Gil furrowed his brow: “Based on what Bramble said, your body was largely shredded and dumped on the far side, beyond the Swamp.”
Green Streak chewed her lip: “That must be where Top Cover ended up, too…”
“Most likely--why?”
“Will the same thing happen to our bodies?”
“I would assume so.”
“How awful…”
Gil nodded: “There is little about this place this isn’t awful, I’m sad to say.”
He turned away from the cave entrance and began to move down a shallow slope toward Kla’atra who was waiting with limbs folded and eyes dimmed.
He glanced over his shoulder at Zecora: “Speaking of awful, we need to keep moving, and I’ll warn you now: it’s going to get pretty bad for a bit.”
Zecora capped her water bottle and fell in behind Gil’s flickering form: “Why? What happened down there?”
Gil shook his head: “It’s not what happened down here: it’s what happened long ago in Grey Thorn’s chambers, and the echoes it left behind.”
Kla’atra rose to her feet as Gil passed, and Zecora slowly followed behind the phantom unicorn, pegasus and Yönti as they wound their way into the deepening gloom.
Twilight emerged from the shadows and walked briskly up to Grey Thorn’s enclosure: “Alright, G.T., let’s do this! You wanted to watch Reaper strip me of Death’s power and most of my life force? Here we go!”
Grey Thorn peered into the adjacent alcove and raised an eyebrow: “Where is your foalsitter?”
“I ditched him. You know as well as I do the intensifying and disorienting nature of this place. If he were here as I replay this experience, it would tear him apart.”
Grey Thorn smiled coldly: “It’s likely to do that to you, you know.”
“Not this time.”
Grey Thorn furrowed his brow: “What do you mean?”
“Not important. But you’re going to owe me big when this is done, and I expect immediate repayment!”
“In the form of…?”
“I need to know how you integrated that alien’s technology into your containment vessel.”
“I see. Very well. Show me what you came to show me, then.”
Twilight took a deep breath, sat down and closed her eyes. Her horn glowed a pale violet, and an image coalesced above her head.
Grey Thorn watched silently as the dream-trap scene played out, his attention shifting back and forth between the vision and Twilight’s closed eyes and clenched, trembling jaw.
He stared intently as Reaper pulled vision Twilight in tight and crushed his mouth against hers, then the shade suddenly snapped his head down as he heard Twilight struggling for breath, her chest heaving, tears leaking from beneath her eyelids.
Grey Thorn glanced back and forth from Twilight to her dying dream double, and chewed his lip as Reaper laid Twilight’s limp, twitching body on the floor. The scene dissolved.
“So--”
“Not done.”
Grey Thorn raised an eyebrow and watched as the vision reformed above Twilight, showing her in the collapsing classroom, staggering in terror for the door as the scene tore itself apart.
“Oh, Reaper! Was it too much? ”
Grey Thorn held up a hoof: “Wait--was that Luna’s voice?”
Twilight retched into her mouth and spat: “Not now--ask at the end!”
Grey Thorn put his hoof back down and watched the blackness pour in through the broken classroom door. It filled the alcove, swept past him and blotted out all but a tiny flicker of light from the tip of Twilight’s horn.
Silence fell like a cold shroud, and Grey Thorn could make out the weak, irregular beat of Twilight’s heart for a few seconds, echoing in the silence. The blackness lifted as Twilight coughed and lurched to her hooves.
She staggered to one side of the alcove, around a bit of a corner, and emptied her bladder. She leaned against the passage wall, steadied her breathing, and returned to Grey Thorn’s cell a minute later.
“D-Did you finally see what you wanted to see?”
Grey Thorn regarded the trembling, defiant alicorn for a few moments: “Yes. You truly did have nearly everything stripped away. I didn’t believe you--I thought you were exaggerating for effect.”
Twilight glared: “You clearly don’t know me--I would never exaggerate something this horrible and profound!”
“Be that as it may, I know you better, now . We’ve shared an experience I doubt any other ponies ever have before.”
Twilight furrowed her brow: “This was what it was like--”
“When I sacrificed my own essence? Yes, though worse, in its own way. At least you were taken unawares--”
Twilight bit her lip: “The first time--”
Grey Thorn raised an eyebrow: “In any event, you have a good sense for what each of the six times I endured this was like.”
“But why ?”
Grey Thorn smiled: “Is that your question, now?”
Twilight snorted: “Dammit, not again! No--I need to know how you integrated the alien’s technology.”
Grey Thorn tipped his horn up: “Very well. I will show you what I can, though again, the majority of my notes and equations are lost now.”
“Or inside that table.”
Grey Thorn shrugged as an image formed above his head: “That’s as good as lost, since I’m sure you could never bring yourself to utilize my sacrifice circle.”
Twilight scowled: “Get on with it!”
The scene resolved, filling much of the alcove, and Twilight found herself standing next to a translucent, middle-aged Grey Thorn, in front of a matte-black, carriage-sized sphere.
Past Grey Thorn leaned forward on a step stool and slid aside a panel, revealing a space beyond, many times larger than the opening suggested. The opening was filled with shimmering wires, metallic ribbon and crystalline constructs that appeared to flicker in and out of existence.
“What am I seeing here?”
“This is the heart of the creature’s engine, as best as I could determine it. It operates by harvesting the infinitesimal latent energy that resides between realities--that resides, actually, within the very spaces between the warp and woof of the world around us.”
The scene paused and a series of diagrams, equations and glyphs appeared, overlaid across the various circuits and pathways.
Twilight squinted: “Some of this I recognize--I’ve seen Starswirl’s research on dimensional boundaries, for instance--but I don’t know that block up and to the left.”
She illuminated her horn and put a red dot on a series of intermixed glyphs and equations.
Grey Thorn nodded: “That was based on what was inscribed on the components themselves, arranged and decoded according to my own space-compressing spells. It’s clear the alien’s ship had the ability to compress space even as it manipulated the energies contained within. I used that to greatly expand the apparent volume within my creation, while also tying it to the creature rooted at its heart.”
“Tying it?”
The glyphs and equations danced and reordered; an image of the Sentinel now hovered above it all: “Yes--recall my comment about taming the creature? I was able to calibrate the machinery so that it applies a steady drain. I could tap that drain, thus harvesting energy without having to make direct contact with the creature.”
Twilight stared at the interlaced ribbons and crystals and glyphs for a minute. She then formed Grey Thorn’s final sacrifice circle and placed it alongside the image of the Sentinel, tying several lines of numbers and symbols together: “So how did you ultimately tie the two together? I’ve seen a piece of your sacrifice to harness the creature, and I’m getting an idea as to how the device works, but how did you connect them at last so you could pull victims in through the shell, yet keep the creature at bay and fed?”
A thin smile spread across Grey Thorn’s face.
Twilight rolled her eyes: “Nevermind. I know--next time.”
She turned to leave and paused, looking back over her shoulder. The sacrifice circle grew large and bright: “Is this the final form?”
Grey Thorn scowled: “I believe we had a--”
“Is. It. The. Final. Form?”
“Yes.”
“And is it correct?”
Grey Thorn ground his teeth.
“Answer the fucking question!”
“Yes.”
“Good. And just so you don’t think you’ve been cheated, I’ll throw a little payment in-kind your way before I go.”
She rounded the corner heading from the alcove to the outer passage and slowed moments before teleporting away: “I know how to get your notes out of that table.”
Grey Thorn watched the purple-white flash fade as his angry grimace turned into a satisfied grin: “I know you do, Princess…”
He tipped his horn up, clearing the images, save one: the glowing golden sacrifice circle.
“Now do it.”
Because I Could not Stop for Death
Twilight entered Grey Thorn’s burned-out library and walked toward the back of the dimly-lit chamber. Noble Steel tipped forward and slid off the speckled, streaked, grey-green tabletop and glared.
Twilight stopped short and furrowed her brow: “I’m sorry, Noble, but I had to--”
“Had to what, Twilight? Sneak off? Go solo down to see Grey Thorn? I’m your wingpony--you’re supposed to trust me!”
“I know, but I had to do this last session alone. I couldn’t put anypony else through that experience--it might have damaged you!”
Noble’s nostrils flared: “I’m tougher than you think, Princess!”
Twilight shook her head: “It’s not enough to be ‘tough,’ Noble! Do you remember when you experienced my episode with the Void? What happened?”
The unicorn shifted uncomfortably: “That was--it caught me by surprise! I--”
“You got so worked-up you shot your load on the floor!”
“Yeah, but--”
“But, nothing, Noble! If you had been down there with me earlier today, it would likely have knocked you into a catatonic state!”
She turned away and began to pace: “It did knock me into a catatonic state, and it took Luna to pull me back out of it. I’ve only just recovered!”
Twilight snapped her head around and locked eyes with Noble: “And I was safe and sound in a bed in Celestia’s castle! I don’t even want to think what would have happened if you’d melted-down on the lowest level of Tartarus!”
Noble chewed his lip for a moment: “Fine. What did you learn?”
Twilight stepped up to the table and ran a hoof across its surface: “That I correctly captured Grey Thorn’s final sacrifice circle, and that he really didn’t know what he was doing when it came to integrating all the various pieces.”
“Well, you already assumed that…”
“Yeah, but now I’m sure.” A golden circle flickered above the table: “I’ve worked through the progression of his circles--”
She pointed to a series of shifting glyphs: “See how those aren’t stable?”
Noble squinted: “I thought that was just your projection--like you were toggling between versions.”
Twilight shook her head: “Nope--that’s their actual form. They flicker back-and-forth between states.”
Her horn went dark as she tapped her chin: “Like the energy trapped between realities…”
Noble furrowed his brow: “What does that mean?”
Twilight chewed the edge of hoof for a moment, then shook her head: “Not important.”
Noble raised an eyebrow: “I doubt that…”
Twilight and Noble turned in unison as Celestia, Luna and Reaper entered the far side of the room, trailing a magenta-colored lump behind them.
Twilight reached out with her magic, took the enrobed corpse from Celestia, and laid it on the table: “Thank you for bringing this, Princess. I hope it wasn’t too much trouble.”
Celestia smiled: “Well, to be sure, the Royal Archaeologist wasn’t too keen on giving it up, but I made it clear that there’s a higher need, here.”
Twilight nodded: “I’ve gone over my notes from this thing’s capture, and my interactions with the Void’s tendrils, and I’m sure I can duplicate the effect of siphoning off death energy. The trick will be feeding it through the sacrifice circle.”
Celestia frowned: “Without pulling in your own, preferred life force, I assume.”
Twilight lifted a book from her saddle bag and set it on the end of the table: “Right. But since I’m the one in charge of the transfer, I’ll know if that starts to happen.”
Reaper peered closely at the bound figure: “You’ll need an opening, yes?”
Twilight flipped through her notes: “Yes, but the membrane’s fairly flexible. I should be able to stretch open a gap then seal it back up.”
Noble eyed the pinkish form suspiciously: “Now what? How does this work?”
Twilight shifted the corpse to one end of the table and propped her book against it. She opened her saddle bag and laid out a collection of vials and jars on the floor nearby.
“Now what happens is everypony clears out except Reaper. No other living thing should be in this room besides me.”
Celestia frowned: “Are you sure you’re ready for this, Twilight?”
“It doesn’t matter--it has to be done now. If the Void operates the way I think it does, Zecora doesn’t have long to live--a few more days at most!”
Luna bit her lip as she backed toward the door: “Please be careful, Twilight! And Reaper--you will do your duty as fail-safe, yes?”
Reaper nodded: “I’ll keep an eye on this whole operation every second it’s happening.”
Celestia smiled weakly: “Thank you. Good luck to both of you! We’ll all be right outside in the passage if you need anything.”
Twilight reached out with her magic and pushed the door shut as Noble passed through, glancing over his shoulder: “This shouldn’t take long. I’ll let you know as soon as I’m done.”
The door slid shut with a ‘crunch,’ and Twilight pushed the body and book to the floor: “Help me.”
Reaper raised an eyebrow as violet magic wrapped around the table: “What’re you doing?”
“Moving this into the creation chamber.”
Reaper added his own magic, and the table slowly lifted off the floor: “Damn--this thing’s heavy! Why are we moving it?”
Beads of sweat formed along Twilight’s brow as she shuffled toward the back of the study: “We need to secure this beyond the barrier wall. I suspect the effect will leech right through normal stone.”
Reaper grunted as the table wobbled and bumped against the entryway into the large, dark chamber beyond: “And I suspect you’re going to seal the opening behind us, as well, yes?”
Twilight blushed as they lowered the table to the floor with a heavy ‘thud:’ “Um, yes. I think there’s a good chance this may produce a lot of commotion, and I’d hate to have somepony burst in on us at the wrong time!”
Reaper smiled grimly: “It’d likely be the last mistake they ever made.”
“Quite possibly…”
Twilight set a small, silver bowl atop the table and lanced her wrist, allowing a trickle of blood to drip for a minute: “I was also kind of vague about some details, and I’d like to keep it that way.”
Reaper raised an eyebrow: “More blood magic, in other words…”
“That, and a lot of very dark magic--the kind that, well, Celestia--”
“Banned.”
“Yeah--well, at least the stuff she knows about...”
Reaper raised an eyebrow: “I wasn’t kidding, Twilight--if I have to reap you in order to prevent--”
Twilight grimaced as she sealed the cut in her wrist: “I know, and I’m aware that there are things here I can’t control for. We’re just going to have to forge ahead.”
Reaper sighed: “OK, so now what?”
Twilight reached out with a band of inky-black magic and opened a gap in the corpse’s pink covering. Something began to stir and ooze through the gap.
Twilight glared and surrounded the emerging tendril with a globe of dark energy: “Oh, no you don’t!”
She glanced at the struggling tendril, then turned her attention to the space above the table. A large, glowing, golden ring formed above it, then another, then a series of glyphs and symbols.
She chewed her lip for a moment as her eyes darted to her notes: “And here’s the tricky part…”
Twilight’s eyes glowed an unearthly, glittering black as the air surrounding the table darkened and began to contract. Even Reaper’s cloak fluttered, and he repositioned his hooves to prevent slipping.
“How are you doing that?”
Twilight’s breath came in short, ragged bursts: “I-I cleaned-up some of Gr-Grey Thorn’s steps. I’m generating a small, local effect that dup-duplicates part of the Void.”
“But the Void has almost no effect on me!”
“Like I said: he’s a-a shortcutter. I broadened its range. Now watch!”
Twilight spread her wings and poured a stream of mixed violet-black energy into the bubble surrounding the haunted corpse’s tendril. The body twitched and bounced on the table as a dark nimbus gathered at Twilight’s hooves. The sacrifice circle began to rotate as various glyphs and runes flickered and blurred.
Reaper dematerialized slightly and squinted at the circle: “They’re phasing!”
Twilight gritted her teeth and nodded as the restrained tendril was drawn up into the circle, and the surface of the table began to shift and shimmer like a mirage. Ghostly images and figures rose slowly from the table and hovered like spectral dragonflies for a few seconds before evaporating.
She shuddered and shouted a power word as her blood seeped over the edge of the bowl and spread slowly across the table’s now-glimmering surface. A new sequence of runes and equations emerged from the table, bursting forth like bubbles from a cauldron; they, too, evaporated as they drifted upward.
Twilight began to pant: “I-I almost have it...I’m get-getting more out. I need this. These are some of-of his final notes.”
Reaper glanced back and forth between the now-empty bowl, the shuddering, collapsing pink figure, and Twilight’s strained, sweat-streaked face: “How much longer, Twilight? I think you’ve about used-up your materials.”
“I-I know...I’m cl-close. I’m getting down into his foundational materials. I just need--”
Twilight’s head jerked back suddenly as the haunted corpse crumbled into a twitching mass of pink dust and bone fragments. The wounds on her wrists split open and blood sprayed into the air to be taken up by the vortex that had formed around the sacrifice circle.
She staggered forward against the table’s edge and cried out in pain as her horn pulsed brilliant gold: “Ahhh! It-it’s pulling me-me in!”
Reaper phased-in and dashed forward, pulling his sword free as he ran: “I’m getting you out of this!”
Twilight braced against the table and pivoted to meet Reaper, throwing out a band of dark magic as she formed a glyph of warding directly in Reaper’s face. He blinked and stumbled aside.
Reaper turned back to face Twilight, who was now standing on top of the table, crowned with the sacrifice circle, blood pouring down her forelegs and onto the hilt of his sword.
His eyes went wide: “How in Tartarus did you end up with Death’s Token?!”
Twilight raised a black tendril from the growing nimbus beneath her and pointed it at the sword: “S-sorry! This has the greatest reservoir of Death’s energy anywhere in the-the world. I have-have to get to the bottom!”
Blood and dark magic coursed from Twilight’s wrists down the sword and pooled at her hooves on the now-phased tabletop. She began to sink slightly as the sacrifice circle rotated and settled around her neck and shoulders like a torc.
Twilight heaved and retched and a stream of urine ran down the back of her legs. Reaper struggled to clear his head as a scarlet, phantom blade formed over his right shoulder: “Twilight! This has to end now ! I’m going to have to reap you before this tears your essence apart!”
Twilight’s eyes blazed white, as a golden shield sprang up between her and Reaper: “NO! I have it! I can do this!”
Reaper crashed against the barrier, driving his now-crimson spirit blade into its flickering, rippling surface. It flexed and gave off a blinding shower of sparks, but held. Twilight’s eyes burned a deep purple-black as the chamber was filled with a high-pitched shriek. She held the blade aloft in both, bloody front hooves, and a ribbon of black energy.
Reaper’s horn glowed white-hot as he slammed one last time into Twilight’s shield, shattering it with his horn and flaming spirit blade: “I’m sorry, Twilight! I have to do this!” His phantom blade streaked forward.
Twilight glanced down and to her right as Reaper burst through: “So do I.”
She drove Death’s Token to its hilt into the table.
Reaper lay on his side for several moments, phasing in and out until he finally sat up, shook his head and turned to look back over his shoulder at the table, some eight yards behind him.
He stood unsteadily and stared wide-eyed at the scene now surrounding the table. The tabletop and floor were littered with scores of writhing, dying, dismembered, wailing creatures, of all shapes and sizes. The ground was swimming in the accumulated gore and fluids of dozens of sacrifices and butcherings. And above it all hovered Twilight, wreathed in a black cloud, eyes frozen in horror at the tableaux below.
Reaper cautiously approached the table, sidestepping a spasming creature whose skull was being ripped open by unseen pincers. He raised an eyebrow and looked up at Twilight: “Where is my sword?”
Twilight’s chest heaved and she retched: “In-inside the table…”
Reaper nodded slowly and turned as his attention was drawn to a timberwolf hunched over a screaming shape. Reaper closed in and leaned down to get a better look.
The wolf had its heavy, blocky paws locked down on the body of a young filly as it tore away the squealing pony’s throat sending a spray of blood in all directions, followed moments later by the foal’s severed head.
Reaper rocked back on his heels: “What the--this is a death vision!”
Suddenly the timberwolf lifted off the floor, twisted, shrieked and was torn asunder mid-air, with chunks of rent, bloody pony mixed among the wolf’s fragments.
Twilight slobbered and choked back a sob as she pointed at several lines of text floating in the air in front of her: “He-he used the wolf to slaughter that foal thinking it would-would boost the effect when he sacrificed the w-wolf.”
Reaper gazed at the filly’s small, ruined, bleeding corpse: “But she died; what happened to her essence?”
Twilight closed her eyes tight and drifted off to one side, avoiding a shuddering, squelching mass impaled on a rune-covered spike. She collapsed on the chamber floor: “The table...it ab-absorbed their essences like it does my power and Death’s power.”
“And my sword, it appears. Where is my sword, Twilight?”
She lifted a trembling hoof and pointed at the table: “In there--down inside the layers between realities.”
Reaper chewed his lip and walked over to Twilight, stepping over the exploded carcass of a lemon-yellow pegasus. He looked down and shook his head: “Another one. How many ponies died for this accursed table?”
Twilight struggled to sit up: “I-I don’t know. It looks like mostly a-alien beings or lower creatures from our world. B-but a few ponies really d-died on this table, too.”
Reaper held out a hoof: “Get up, Princess--we have to go in to get my sword.”
Twilight stumbled to her hooves and backed up, eyes wide: “N-no--I-I can’t, I--”
“Yes, you can, and you will. You took a thing that didn’t belong to you to do a thing you shouldn’t have done. You will come with me and pay the toll, or I’ll see to it that Celestia banishes you for this.”
Twilight froze: “You-you wouldn’t!”
Reaper locked eyes with the trembling alicorn: “Let’s not find out, shall we?”
Twilight swallowed: “Alright. I did say I was willing to do whatever it takes. I just didn’t think…”
Reaper nodded as they approached the table, skirting a writhing, spasming, juvenile dragon with blood pouring out of its slashed throat. He placed a hoof tentatively on the shimmering tabletop: “Think what? That you’d have to dig all the way back through Grey Thorn’s charnel house? You’ve seen the bone pit. Besides, how is this any worse than Tartarus?”
Twilight shook her head weakly as she levitated beside Reaper atop the table: “That’s different--that’s almost an abstraction it’s so surreal and beyond comprehension. This is wading ankle-deep in entrails and blood of creatures having their life forces ripped away.”
Reaper nodded: “Be that as it may, take a deep breath, and let's get this over with.”
Twilight bit her lip and closed her eyes. The golden sacrifice circle reformed above her head as she and Reaper phased and sank slowly through the table.
Because I Could not Stop for Death
Zecora stumbled and squinted into the gloom as the passage narrowed and darkened: “Slow down a bit, Gil--I’m having a hard time keeping up!”
Gil’s horn brightened as he turned back toward the disoriented zebra: “Sorry--I forget that you don’t know every twist and turn of this place.”
Kla’atra’s eyes flashed back from the shadows ahead: “And it will have made to appear that the topology here shall have shifted somewhat.”
Gil nodded as he stopped next to Zecora: “True--it’s not exactly the same. Bramble’s right: things really have shifted markedly if even this protected area is warped.”
Zecora furrowed her brow: “Is it still safe then? Could gaps have opened?”
Gil shrugged: “No way to know without going on, and we have to go on--there’s no other path. Even if this cave passage is compromised it’s still worlds better than being exposed above.”
Zecora moved forward again, keeping pace with Gil as Green Streak closed ranks from behind: “You said something about this place having echos of Grey Thorn’s chambers? What did you mean?”
“Several of the other shielded areas correspond to alien places, as does the Swamp itself, but down here exists an analog to Grey Thorn’s secret chambers beneath Canterlot.”
“So the echoes are of the things he did?”
“In part, but they’re heavily laced with his own dreams and delusions. Each time he stripped another piece of himself away it was a terrible trauma, and his mind would collapse in on itself in defense.”
“So I assume another of his shades is down here as well?”
Zecora and her three companions pulled up short as Bramble suddenly appeared in front of the group, standing before a low entrance: “Two, actually. Grey Thorn had what he thought was a breakthrough and tried to push forward as fast as he could. He’d barely recovered from one sacrifice when he attempted another.”
“Is there anything to learn here, anything of value that I can try to pass along to Luna?”
“I don’t know. I’m not really sure what she’s doing with the information, so I can’t tell you what may be valuable.”
Zecora shook her head: “I don’t know, either, though I assume Twilight is likely behind it.”
“Your young friend? I hope she’s made of sterner stuff than most if she’s tampering in this. Grey Thorn discovered terrible secrets and saw darkness beyond mortal understanding.”
Zecora nodded: “I’m sure she’s as prepared as she can be, and she has had the experience of wielding Death’s power as the Harbinger. Surely that has toughened her some.”
Gil shrugged and drifted forward past Bramble: “Maybe, but there are things worse than death…”
The five companions passed beneath the entrance to the chamber beyond, and as they spread out a bit Zecora stopped and stared.
Gil looked back with a wry grin: “Not quite what you were expecting I take it?”
The zebra took a tentative step forward and peered at the variety of ponies engaged in all manner of sexual groupings, from two to five or more. She scanned the dimly-lit cave and saw stallions mounting and thrusting into mares, ponies licking and sucking each other with wild abandon, mares riding atop stallions or grinding against other mares. The air was filled with ecstatic moans and gasps as pony after pony reached their climax, only to shift position and partner, and begin anew.
Zecora stepped delicately around a pair of unicorn mares engaged in mutual oral sex as a dark-brown stallion put his hooves across the top mare’s shoulders and mounted her from behind, driving his loins into the lower mare’s face.
Zecora furrowed her brow and glanced at Gil: “What am I seeing here? What’s going on?”
Gil drifted over and around a pegasus stallion splayed out spread-eagle on the floor with a pale-blue mare atop him, grinding her sex into his muzzle.
“These are the echoes of Grey Thorn’s ecstasies.”
“Ecstasies?”
Bramble stepped up beside Zecora: “He would often experience sexual release as part of the process of giving and taking energy from this place.”
Gil nodded: “So what you see here is a kind of play, if you will, using shades as characters to act out those fantasies he could never achieve in real life, energized by his sexual tension.”
Zecora squinted into the gloom: “Are--or rather, were --these real ponies, or just fantasy images?”
“A bit of both. Most were real victims, pulled in from dreams as they died, shaped by Grey Thorn’s fantasies.”
“But now…?”
“Now they are merely shades.”
“Were they aware of what had been done?”
Gil nodded grimly: “Oh, yes--they were quite aware of their surroundings and situation. They were compelled to act out his erotic delusions.”
Zecora grimaced: “Continually?”
“Until they finally succumbed to the Vacuum, yes. Its drain is slower down here, but inevitable, all the same.”
Zecora chewed her lip: “Is-is he in here, too?”
Bramble pointed toward another narrow opening in the far wall: “He’s back there.”
Zecora picked her way across the floor until she stepped clear of a dark orange stallion driving breathlessly into a yellow unicorn mare who was in turn sliding her glowing horn in and out of a panting, white pegasus, held aloft by her wings spread across a pair of stone outcroppings.
Gil drifted beside the shuddering zebra and nodded at the rump and switching tail of a thrusting, gray stallion: “There he is, engaged with his own personal fantasy.”
Zecora moved closer and noticed a pair of dark, elegant wings spread on either side of Grey Thorn. A glittering, black horn suddenly rose in response to Grey Thorn’s cries, and Nightmare Moon’s voice rang in the air: “More! Give me more! Never stop, and we will live forever!”
Gil slipped around in front of the bench over which Nightmare Moon was bent and nodded to Grey Thorn: “At it again?”
Grey Thorn’s shade stopped and opened its eyes: “Always. Where else would I be after an exchange?”
Zecora maneuvered beside Gil: “Exchange?”
“What he called it whenever he extracted a pony’s essence and channeled it into his creation. Really anytime he interfaced directly, but it was most, well, stimulating , when he took a pony’s lifeforce.”
“So he would fantasize about being with Nightmare Moon when he was killing?”
Gil turned toward Grey Thorn: “Did you openly fantasize while you were draining ponies?”
Grey Thorn slid down off Nightmare Moon’s back and sprawled across a nearby couch: “Sometimes. But usually the stimulation just rushed up on me. I found those were the best times--the ones I wasn’t ready for.”
Zecora furrowed her brow: “Why Nightmare Moon? Surely he knew he couldn’t have her.”
Gil smiled: “Why Nightmare Moon? She was in exile--what hope did you have?”
The shade blinked slowly and stared into the distance.
Zecora tipped her head sideways: “Had you never asked him that question?”
Bramble stepped up alongside Gil as the ersatz Nightmare Moon moved from bench to couch and climbed atop Grey Thorn’s member with a sigh. She tipped her head down and Grey Thorn ran his tongue along the length of her horn.
Bramble shook his head: “He asked, but this version never answered.”
Zecora furrowed her brow and turned away from the sight of Nightmare Moon’s dark, sweat-streaked body bucking against Grey Thorn’s ghostly loins: “Why?”
“It was complicated. He avoided directly encountering Nightmare Moon in the dreamscape out of fear of her reaction. Also, he was nursing all kinds of fantasies at this point, including a plot to kidnap Celestia and force her to return her sister from exile.”
“That’s even crazier than stalking Nightmare Moon around the dreamscape!”
Bramble nodded as he sidestepped a pair of unicorn stallions pinning-down and penetrating a gasping, squirming, semen-smeared pegasus mare: “Oh, you have no idea just how crazy it got. Follow me.”
The group passed beneath a low archway, led by Bramble. The chamber beyond appeared dark at first, but as the five entered, the area was slowly flooded with a dull, red light.
Zecora wrinkled her nose: “What is that smell?”
Gil floated alongside: “I assume your mind is interpreting it as burning hide and flesh.”
She nodded weakly and coughed. Green Streak stepped around Gil and grimaced: “I smell blood…”
Bramble’s horn began to glow, bringing the surroundings into sharp relief; Gil joined him: “It changes depending on who’s here to observe. I’ve noticed a pattern over the centuries based on who’s in attendance.”
Zecora took out a small vial from her bag and quaffed a bit of a pale violet potion: “Is it just the smell that changes?”
Gil shook his head: “No. Other elements will be different, too. As with the last chamber, this place is informed by Grey Thorn’s various shifting fantasies. There’s a rather broad variety , given all the centuries, though most of us will experience many of the same elements.”
Zecora stepped further in and squinted at a broken, writhing pegasus collapsed across a pile of smoldering bones and coals. Flames had burned through his wings, and his hide was blistering and splitting open.
Zecora recoiled and skirted aside, nearly stepping on a disemboweled unicorn, frantically trying to scoop her intestines back into her blood-soaked abdomen.
“I-I don’t understand. The last place made some sense--it was an outgrowth of Grey Thorn’s lust and sexual energy, yes? What is the point of this terrible place? Did he want to torture and kill, too?”
Gil shook his head: “Not exactly. Many of these poor ponies died in the midst of nightmares, and brought those visions with them as they were pulled in.”
He turned and tipped his horn toward a pink unicorn having her skull crushed under a pile of stones while a foal sat nearby weeping: “He would occasionally amplify the experience at the moment of death. That foal, for instance, wasn’t part of this poor mare’s original nightmare.”
Zecora looked away from the spreading pool of blood and brains and chewed her lip: “Why would he do that?”
“He was experimenting, trying to amplify ponies’ death experiences. He believed that more energy could be extracted if a pony were to die in a state of heightened emotion.”
Zecora pitched forward, went to her knees and brought her hooves up to block her ears as a shriek tore through the air. She tipped her head to one side and cracked an eye open, looking for the source.
She rose unsteadily to her hooves just a flaming figure barreled towards her out of the gloom, filling her nostrils with the acrid tang of seared flesh. The shriek redoubled as Zecora stumbled backwards, eyes wide.
Suddenly Green Streak dove between the zebra and the burning apparition bearing down on her. She threw up a wing and braced for impact.
The shade dissolved in a burst of smoke and ash as it came into contact with the pegasus. She slowly lowered her wing and looked at Gil with a cocked eyebrow as the ash vaporized with a faint shimmer.
Gil smiled: “Well done, though you can see there’s no real effect--these are just phantasms which have no real physicality.”
Zecora rose unsteadily to her hooves: “But neither does Green Streak, true? What would have happened if that flaming apparition had run into me?”
Gil pointed behind her at the wall, some ten yards away: “The same thing that happens every time it hits the very real wall--it disappears and reforms on the far side of the chamber to do it all over again.”
“But I hear and smell--or at least my brain thinks it does. Why wouldn’t I feel an impact?”
Kla’atra stepped beside Gil and nodded: “This is to have been a most perceptive question. Perhaps, as though in a vivid dream, you might have felt an impact. It would have been possible that your mind will have perceived it as real.”
Gil tapped his chin: “I’d never thought of it that way.”
Zecora smiled: “Why would you? You’ve never encountered a mind attached to a living entity here before.”
“True. Well in that case, we will need to be careful as we traverse this space. There are many vivid things happening here that might take you unaware and cause you real distress, if Kla’atra’s theory is sound.”
Zecora nodded: “I appreciate that! So where now? I assume all paths through here are awful?”
Gil sighed: “Since this is literally a chamber of nightmares, yes. We’re simply going to strike out directly across in an attempt to get to the other side as quickly as possible.”
Zecora took a deep breath: “I understand. Will we encounter Grey Thorn’s shade?”
Gil nodded as he turned away: “Just before we leave.”
Zecora gritted her teeth and fell in behind Green Streak and Kla’atra. Bramble lingered, his brow furrowed: “You all go on. I’ll catch-up in a minute.”
The four companions moved slowly forward, avoiding a large, chocolate-brown earth pony being pulled apart limb from limb by a cluster of monstrous trees. Zecora squinted and tipped her head sideways as the screams reached her ears. She hurried past as a phantom leg popped free with a sickening ‘crunch.’
As she opened her eyes wide again, she caught a glimpse of something dark above--a shape trimmed in silver that seemed to blend in with the ceiling. She pointed up: “What is that up there? It seems to follow us.”
Gil glanced toward the ceiling: “That’s Nightmare Moon’s omnipresent phantasm. It moves and drops and rises and coalesces like a dark fog. We need to be especially aware of that, if Kla’atra is right, and you actually can feel effects. I would rather not have that particular shade make contact with you by surprise.”
Zecora’s eyebrows jumped: “Agreed!”
Gil glided forward, followed directly by Zecora who was averting her gaze from the horrors surrounding her, keeping an eye on the dark, craggy roof above. She came to a sudden stop at Green Streak’s shout.
“Oh, sweet Celestia! It’s Top Cover!”
The pegasus surged past the startled zebra, sliding to a stop before the broken, heaving body of her partner. The crushed, cream-colored stallion hung in mid-air, twisting and stretching like fleshy putty, gurgling and sobbing as he was smeared and reconstituted over and over.
Green Streak trembled and held out a hoof: “Is--is he really here, or is this just a v-vision of him? How can this be?”
Gil frowned: “This was your wingpony who was pulled in before you?”
Green Streak nodded weakly
“This must be his final vision and memory, captured by the Sentinel as it consumed his essence. I doubt he was ever really here; the Sentinel occasionally absorbs an essence almost immediately, leaving only a brief imprint.”
“S-so he died in a nightmare…”
“More or less, yes.”
Green Streak bit her lip and trembled: “I don’t want to end up down here as a faded memory! I-I want to get out!”
Gil opened his mouth to speak, but Green Streak bolted, heading for the far end of the chamber.
Zecora stepped forward, shying away from Top Cover’s mutilated shade as its wings splintered: “Green Streak! Wait--”
Gil shook his head: “Let her go. She’s going to have to come to terms with the reality of this place, the sooner the better. I’ll sit her down once this is all done and explain that she won’t end up here. She’ll stay with us in the Compound until…”
“Until what? You’ll end up a phantasm in any event, yes?”
Gil nodded.
“Let’s assume there is some way out for me. Is there no way out for you, too? You’d be an unbound spirit, and I assume Reaper would send you onward as should have been done a thousand years ago.”
Gil shook his head as Kla’atra stepped beside him: “We have not had any longer sufficient lifeforce for the maintaining of cohesion. If we would to have passed beyond the boundary of the Vacuum, that very act must have destroyed what shall be left of us.”
Kla’atra pointed to the ceiling: “Going out might only have been possible to one bound to an entity of sufficient energy to make resistance to the Vacuum upon exit.”
Zecora nodded sadly: “I’m sorry.”
Gil smiled sadly: “As are we. And to that end--of getting you out, at any rate--we should keep moving. We’re going to need to make one last stop as it is.”
Zecora closed her eyes and swallowed heavily. She slowly opened her eyes and glanced at the ceiling for a moment before staring uncertainly at the floor directly in front of her hooves.
Kla’atra led Zecora across the floor with Gil close behind. They wound their way past a variety of grisly tableaux, from impalings to dragonfire to Zephyr’s shrunken corpse splayed across a bed. Gil caught sight of Nightmare Moon’s specter leaving that scene on its way back into the gloom above.
He pointed to the withered figure: “We’re getting close to the end, and for better or worse I suspect we’re going to encounter Nightmare Moon one more time as we meet Grey Thorn’s shade.”
Zecora peeked up for a moment: “Why better or worse?”
“It will answer some of your questions, but if Kla’atra is right, it’s going to be a rough experience.”
Zecora furrowed her brow as she focused on Kla’atra’s form in front of her: “I don’t understand. I won’t have to make contact with her, will I?”
Gil sighed; moved beside her and pointed past Kla’atra’s shoulder: “No, but you’ll have to go through that.”
Zecora gritted her teeth and looked ahead at the low opening. It was blocked by a large white shape that took her a few moments to resolve.
“Is-is that Celestia?”
“Yes, and if you look off the the side you’ll see Grey Thorn’s shade sitting on a broken throne.”
Zecora looked to her left and saw the grey unicorn sprawled across a scarred, smoldering, ornate chair. He was firing beams of golden magic into Celestia’s body.
As the three came closer Zecora could see that Celestia’s wings were staked to the wall behind, and her hind legs were broken, stretched to the floor and bound with iron shackles. She jerked and cried out as the bolts of magic pierced her.
Zecora crept closer to Grey Thorn’s shade: “What is the point of this? I know you said he had some crazy kidnap scheme. Is this just frustration?”
Gil stepped in front of Grey Thorn: “Why are you torturing Celestia?”
The specter stopped and turned to Gil: “As a beacon, of course. I hope to attract Nightmare Moon’s attention and interest.”
Zecora shook her head in confusion: “That doesn’t make any sense. He was in here, and she wasn’t!”
Gil smiled: “Remember, he trawled the dreamscape looking for victims. He could have made contact with her.”
“But he didn’t--so how would this ‘beacon’ have worked?”
Gil turned back to Grey Thorn: “You never actually encountered her, so clearly this ‘beacon’ of yours never worked. Why not?”
The shade shifted uncomfortably and formed a flaming blade mid-air which he plunged into Celestia’s throat: “I tried, but I could never find the right way to make my presence known. She was very self-absorbed, and I never broke out of the shadows enough for her to notice. I came close a few times…”
Zecora shook her head and pointed to the broken, twitching form blocking the exit: “Well, that clearly would have done it!”
Gil shrugged: “I’m sure it would have, but like a nervous suitor who never works-up the nerve to ask his beau for a date, he just kept fantasizing and internalizing.”
“And he never acted on any plot against Celestia, either.”
“Not that any of his victims through the centuries ever mentioned.”
“Don’t get me wrong: I’m glad he never actually attacked Celestia, but he seemed to have fallen into a pattern of never really seeing anything through to its end.”
She waved a hoof around: “Even this place, as you and Kla’atra have made clear, was not truly finished, just patched together enough to work, at great cost to himself and his victims. And for what?”
Gil blinked slowly and looked over his shoulder at Grey Thorn’s shade: “What did you hope to gain out of all this? You had your creation and could hide out in the shadows--why did you care about Nightmare Moon? Was it simple lust?”
The translucent specter gazed at Gil for a moment: “The dreamscape is a gateway. I have traveled to scores of other worlds and realities, and they all share one thing in common: a dream realm. If I could master our dreamscape and perfect my unstable creation I could transcend our world without ever having to physically move. Nightmare Moon could be a great help.”
Zecora shook her head: “But he clearly never did. Would that have even been possible?”
Kla’atra nodded as her eyes flashed pale blue: “In theory he may have been able to have moved between realities using my engine and the properties of the dreamscape. But his creation should have had too many flaws to carry that out successfully.”
Gil pointed at Celestia’s twitching form, writhing as black bands of dark magic crushed in its ribs: “And so he just lurked, hoarding what little lifeforce he had left to stay alive and harvest spirits in Nightmare Moon’s shadows, too afraid to risk encountering either sister.”
Zecora shrugged and stepped forward toward Celestia’s bloody phantasm as a dark cloud coalesced unseen above and behind her: “Then I guess we’ve heard all we need to from him, and since I can clearly see this vision in front of me--”
She stepped into the shade as Gil glanced at the bands of dark magic, then up to the ceiling in alarm: “No, don’t!”
Nightmare Moon’s specter suddenly shot down from the gloom above with a shout of rage and impaled her sister’s image with her glittering horn.
The chamber was filled with a burst of dark, violet light and a cry of unearthly agony as Celestia’s body exploded in a gout of blood and entrails.
Zecora pitched forward across the chamber’s threshold and collapsed, senseless.
The dull red light returned to the chamber as Grey Thorn’s shadow turned to Gil: “That never gets old…”
Because I Could not Stop for Death
Reaper squinted and gazed at the various blurred images, glyphs, creatures and ponies swirling around him like a glowing, cloudy, glitter-streaked whirlwind. He looked for Twilight, but couldn't make out any shape that matched her form.
“Twilight! Where are you? Can you see me? Can you make anything of this muddle?”
A bright, violet beam cut through the haze to his right and settled on his shoulder. Twilight’s voice drifted in on the gale: “I can see you. Try to stay still for a second and I’ll come to you.”
Reaper rolled his eyes: “I’ll stay as still as this maelstrom will let me!”
Twilight emerged in front of and to his right, her horn glowing, her wings fanned and angling back and forth: “I can’t make out anything here, either, but I detect a more-stable area below us.”
She settled in next to Reaper and draped a wing over his back, guiding them both down to a darker, less-turbulent layer. She halted their descent and brightened her horn, throwing various faces, skeletons, odd geometric figures, and words into sharp relief.
Reaper closed his eyes and shook his head vigorously: “I’ve spent millennia phasing through things and traversing Tartarus, and this place beats all that for sheer incomprehensibility!”
Twilight narrowed her eyes as she tentatively touched-down on a gunmetal-gray surface: “I know. I can hardly keep track of my homing line. It’s taking a fair bit of my concentration just to stay tethered.”
Reaper slowly opened his eyes and peered around: “The closest I can come is the disorienting rush I felt traversing realities on my way to this world after I died.”
Twilight took a step away from Reaper and folded in her wings: “Not a bad comparison, actually.”
She tipped her head down and inscribed a pair of glowing gold glyphs on the ground with her horn: “This place is like a slice of Cosmos cake: hundreds of times and places compressed down, layered and interwoven in a small space.”
Reaper gestured at the glyphs: “Markers?”
“Yeah--now I can fix my homing through-line to this point, and we can return upward--or out or however you want to think about it--with a high degree of confidence.”
Reaper nodded and raised an eyebrow: “I see the glyphs are gold. I’ve noticed more of your magic shifting colors; that’s highly unusual, yes?”
Twilight chewed her lip: “Um, yes. I’m emulating Grey Thorn’s, well, frequency, if you will. It gets kind of technical, and--”
“And kind of frowned-upon, if I recall correctly.”
“Yeah. It’s generally considered a crime, though I strongly doubt Grey Thorn’ll be pressing any charges.”
“No, but I’m sure Celestia would be interested to know--”
Twilight shook her head: “No--don’t tell her! I have to do this. These spells and runes are so specific to Grey Thorn and his essence, that I have to mimic his magic.”
Reaper pointed at the blood still trickling down Twilight’s left hoof: “To say nothing of his techniques.”
Twilight sighed and turned away, heading toward a rotating, exploded diagram of Kla’atra’s zero-point engine hovering a few yards away: “I don’t have a choice, Reaper. Let me show you something.”
He stepped up beside the alicorn and squinted at the blurry, multi-faceted figure: “Not really sure what I’m seeing, here…”
Twilight nodded and brought up a hoof, wiping away several layers, leaving a single, clear schematic with associated notes: “Better?”
“Yes. How did you do that?”
“Everything down here is layer after layer, one laid on top of the last. The trick is to perceive where one layer starts and the previous ends.”
Reaper nodded: “Great. I still don’t know what I’m seeing, though at least it’s easier to focus on, now.”
Twilight frowned and highlighted a series of equations and components: “This is why I’ll to do anything I have to to figure this out and free Zecora. The nature of this device is to absorb the latent energy around it. Grey Thorn rigged it to keep the creature at the Void’s heart inside in a sort of equilibrium.”
Reaper rubbed his chin: “And I assume it absorbs lifeforce regardless of the creature or entity involved.”
“That’s my belief, yes. So anything trapped in there will be bled slowly of its essence or energy or lifeforce or whatever. Knowing what I do about ponies’ life energies, thanks to having been on both sides of your job, I estimate Zecora probably has fewer than three days left--tops.”
Reaper turned away from the diagram and peered around the grey expanse: “Are these all his notes?”
Twilight shook her head and walked toward another set of drawings: “No. This zone seems to hold most of his technical notes. The one above us contained much of his research on that sacrifice circle of his.”
Reaper nodded: “Then back to my initial question--where is my sword?”
Twilight swallowed and pointed to the floor beneath their hooves: “It must be further down. I’ve extracted some of his spells through these layers, so I assume his darkest magics are below us.”
Reaper stepped alongside Twilight: “Let’s do it, then.”
Twilight shied away slightly: “It--it’s likely pretty bad down there…”
Reaper raised an eyebrow: “And? We have to retrieve Death’s Token regardless. I assume we just phase and drop through, yes?”
Twilight sighed and gritted her teeth: “Yes. Alright, I’ll stay close since I don’t really know if we’re going to hit more turbulence like we did above.”
Reaper nodded and moved close, again: “Agreed. Here we go…”
The two ponies faded and slipped through the grey surface, leaving behind a faint ripple.
After what felt like a minute Reaper phased in and came to a slow stop on a spongy, cold surface, in a space utterly devoid of light and sound. He stood still and listened intently.
He tipped his head to one side as a faint voice came to him: “Reaper…”
“Is that you Twilight? I can’t see anything here.”
His horn flared for a moment then flickered and fell dark again: “I can’t generate any light, and I don’t want to start just walking blindly. Can you illuminate your horn?”
“I-I don’t want to…”
“What?”
“I can feel the sac-sacrifices all around me, Reaper. I know what I’ll see if I generate any light.”
Reaper began slowly moving toward Twilight’s voice: “You’ve done my job, if only for a short time. You know these spirits or shades or afterimages or whatever they are can’t hurt you.”
“That’s not-not it, Reaper. Even when I had your power, I was just barely holding it together.”
“I know--I talked to Celestia. You were hitting the bottle pretty hard.”
“I’m not ready for this. This is where he entombed the spells so toxic they couldn't be committed even to orbs of enchanted diamond.”
Reaper moved forward slowly and to his left as a cold liquid rose up his legs: “What’s the worst you’re going to see, Princess? Realistically? You’ve battled his creation and its animated byproducts. You’ve memorized and transcribed the most horrible nightmare-death-visions Nightmare Moon and Grey Thorn had to offer.”
He stopped and tried to illuminate the area again, to no avail: “You’ve relived your own death visions--twice! What more can you see that you haven’t already seen?”
He heard a squelching sound of hooves stepping in thick, congealed liquid. A horn brightened in front of him, flickering violet and gold, bathing an area roughly ten yards across in an eerie, haunted glow.
“That…”
Reaper turned and glanced to his left as he heard Twilight retch. He saw a dead mare half-submerged in knee-deep muck. Her belly had been ripped open, and an umbilical cord trailed away into the dark.
Reaper furrowed his brow and turned to face Twilight: “What…?”
She shuddered violently and pointed at several lines of blurred runes suspended drunkenly in the air above the corpse: “This is-is his master control spell. It’s what he used to interface through the containment vessel t-to the creature.”
She stared down at the bloated carcass, saliva hanging from her lips; her voice dropped to a whisper: “It’s what I came to find.”
Reaper peered at the spell, then back at the mutilated body: “Where’s the foal?”
“I...d-don’t…”
Reaper bent down and followed the shredded cord to its end. He tipped his head to one side and squinted into the dark.
He turned back to the corpse, leaned forward and prodded it with a hoof. Twilight coughed loudly and retched again: “I--I don’t know where the sword is! I can’t…”
Reaper glared up at Twilight: “Yes, you can. Now focus. None of this is truly real--”
“It is down here !”
“It was real, a thousand years ago. Now it’s just afterimages and--”
“No! Their essences--or what’s left of them--are still here, fes-festering, tied to the spells themselves!”
Reaper narrowed his eyes and glanced between Twilight and the spell: “Wait--you’re telling me they weren’t consumed?”
“N-no. He didn’t have that kind of power--that’s why he needed that creature and the sacrifice circle. The beings he slaughtered on the table left much of their lifeforce buried d-down here.”
Reaper furrowed his brow: “Then we have to recover that life energy. We can’t leave it rotting down in this Limbo!”
Twilight stared at Reaper and shook her head vigorously as she staggered backwards: “I-I can’t! All the death I’ve experienced these last few months...and-and you come back and strip me of my essence, and I can’t recover...and-and I can’t sleep without wine or Luna, and--”
Reaper advanced slowly, keeping pace with the lurching alicorn, but not advancing. Suddenly something caught his eye and he stopped, pointing off to Twilight’s right side.
“Stop--point your horn over there; something’s glittering, something blue.”
Twilight swung her head around, panicked, then froze, wide-eyed: “It-it looks like a cloak.”
Reaper walked to the half-submerged figure and rolled it over with a hoof, revealing a shrunken stallion, wrapped in tattered, bright-blue fabric, still bearing patches of muck-encrusted beard.
Twilight furrowed her brow: “Th-that looks like Starswirl…”
Reaper bent down: “Yes, yes it does.”
“But that’s im-impossible. I’ve seen his tomb.”
“Yeah, so have I--I was there when they put him in it. Plus, I sent him on beyond after reaping him, so there’s absolutely no way that’s Starswirl.”
He stood up and looked back over his shoulder at the mutilated corpse a few yards away: “What’s going on here?”
Twilight slowly licked her lips and gazed at the faux Starswirl: “This must be some kind of construct, generated when Grey Thorn used the sacrifice circle to strip essences and seal away spells. See how the runes hover over the bodies?”
Reaper looked at the blurred figures suspended above Starswirl’s doppelganger: “Yes, though again, I can’t really see them clearly…”
Twilight nodded and raised a hoof into the air, summoning thin, black ribbons to her bloody wrist. Grey Thorn’s golden sacrifice circle formed above her head, and she tipped her horn down toward the withered body.
“I’m going to strip back the layers binding this spell. If this works you should see the runes and words come into focus.”
A beam of blended gold and violet magic pierced the body, joined by tendrils of death energy winding down Twilight’s leg. Like a beam of focused sunlight on wax, Twilight's power flowed over the body, causing it to shimmer and warp. The cloak disintegrated and the hide split, exposing rotting muscles and tendons.
Twilight narrowed her eyes and the beam intensified, stripping away layers of tissue. She bit her lip and leaned forward.
Suddenly the corpse’s eyes flew open and flared with a ghostly white flame. The body lurched up with a howl and lunged at Twilight. She shrieked and staggered backwards, wings flared.
Reaper sprang forward, blocking Twilight at the last moment: “Shit! What's going on?”
Twilight swallowed hard: “De-defense mechanism. He must have put locks on the spells to prevent tampering!”
Reaper jammed his horn through the corpse’s neck and wrapped his forelegs around its shoulders, pulling it aside: “Can you break the spell?”
Twilight stepped to one side to avoid being trampled, and increased the power from her horn: “Yes--just keep him occupied for a few more seconds.”
Reaper swung around beside the carcass and jumped on its back, driving it down into the clotted mess beneath them: “I’ll do what I can, but he seems real eager to get to you!”
Twilight nodded as the sacrifice circle expanded and rotated: “I know, but I think this should do it...”
Starswirl’s decaying duplicate suddenly shuddered and collapsed on its side. Twilight’s entwined streams of power and magic poured down on the body, dissolving it away, layer by layer, bone by bone, until nothing remained but a faint shimmer, rising slowly from the muck.
Reaper stepped forward to touch his horn to the glowing haze as the runes and words above him snapped into sharp focus.
Twilight pointed to the words as Reaper stood up: “There’s the spell that was connected with this shade or vessel or whatever.”
Reaper furrowed his brow: “This looks familiar.”
“It should--it’s a version of the spell Starswirl used to fend you off.”
“Right, but different…”
Twilight highlighted segments of the spell: “He enhanced it greatly. It’s how he was able to evade you for all these centuries.”
Reaper opened his mouth then stopped as the spell evaporated into a golden mist that drifted to the ground. He raised an eyebrow: “What does that mean?”
Twilight shuddered and closed her eyes: “The spell is gone--it’s no longer trapped in this space. I memorized it before it decayed.”
Reaper nodded: “Just like I collected the spirit fragment.”
He tipped his head to one side and regarded Twilight: “Will you be able to recall the spell sufficiently later?”
Twilight’s eyes fluttered open: “I’ll never forget it.”
Reaper sucked at his teeth for a moment then turned back toward the gutted mare behind him: “So what of that? I assume it’s also just a construct.”
Twilight walked toward the body: “Yes. I don’t think she was real. He imbued this simulacrum with a dose of somepony’s essence, but this mare--and likely her foal--never really existed.”
Reaper stepped up beside Twilight and tipped his horn down toward the corpse: “Then let’s get it. We probably have a lot of these to clear.”
Twilight shook her head and bit her lip: “We-we don’t have time--”
“Not if you keep stalling, we don’t!”
Twilight furrowed her brow: “Stalling...”
“What?”
Twilight lifted her hoof in the air as bands of violet and black energy began to swirl around her horn: “Stand back--I’m going to try something.”
The sacrifice circle reformed over her head as a ring of magic burst from her horn, radiating outward rapidly, illuminating everything as far as the eye could see.
Reaper turned to watch the band of energy rush away, making note of scores of corpses and body parts, then he froze, unable to move or speak. His eyes slowly went wide.
Twilight slumped forward and dropped her hoof heavily back to the wet, congealed ground. She lifted her head wearily and sent a pulse of violet magic at Reaper.
He snapped his head around: “What did you do?”
She took a deep breath: “I have enough control of this space to slow time locally. I can’t stop it, but I can bring it down to a crawl. Hopefully it’ll hold long enough for us to clear out these trapped spells and spirits.”
Reaper nodded: “And find the sword.”
Twilight sighed: “Hold on…”
She lifted her wrist up and reopened the cut, bringing a bead of fresh blood to the surface as dark ribbons began to converge on the wound. She fanned her wings and rose into the air, eyes blank.
Reaper furrowed his brow as streaks and bolts of dark energy jumped from Twilight’s body, arcing through the area like static discharge. She twitched and moaned, occasionally murmuring arcane words as the the dark, clotted muck surrounding them slowly drained away revealing thousands of once-buried skeletons of lesser creatures scattered across a slate-gray floor.
Twilight’s eyes flickered, went dark and closed as she drifted back down to the ground and stood, legs trembling while her wings slowly folded in.
She took a deep breath and sat down: “Give me a minute; that really took a lot out of me.”
Reaper walked around, peering into the distance, poking at bones: “What did you do?”
“I opened a dimensional rift to another place within the table, and sent away all the muck and pseudo-blood and magical residue that’s keeping us from seeing or sensing anything.”
“I take it you’re gaining some mastery down here.”
“Yes--it just takes a lot of concentration and power. You can summon your sword now, yes?”
Reaper nodded and furrowed his brow: “As you said, give me a minute.”
He closed his eyes and turned a slow circle, stopping suddenly and pivoting back to his left: “There it is.”
There was a flash of silver and red in the distance, and Death’s Token appeared in front of Reaper moments later. He sheathed it and turned back to Twilight: “Alright, so that’s done. Let’s round-up all the spirits we can so we can get out of here.”
Twilight stood unsteadily and stretched: “OK, so with time nearly stopped except for us, you shouldn’t have to fight off any more corpses while I peel back their binding spells.”
Reaper nodded and walked to the rent corpse of the pregnant mare, now sprawled awkwardly on the grey ground: “Let’s get this one out of the way first.”
Twilight stepped up beside Reaper and chewed her lip as the sacrifice circle flickered and resolved above her head: “OK, I-I just hope we’re right about this being a construct, too. I don’t know how much more authentic horror I can handle right now.”
She tipped her head down as the sacrifice circle rotated and sparkled; a band of gold magic pierced the pale orange hide, which shriveled away.
Twilight passed several sweeps of magic across the body, eroding it away, looking warily as the internal organs reassembled briefly, then disappeared. She glanced back and forth between that macabre scene and the spell hovering above her as it shifted, changed and sharpened.
Reaper watched intently as Twilight finished her deconstruction, then he dropped to one knee as the final traces of flesh and bone evaporated, leaving a faint, shimmering mist.
He touched the mist with his horn and stood: “I’m confident that pony was not real. There are traces of three distinct essences involved, and none of them was a pregnant mare.”
Twilight looked down from the fading spell and smiled weakly: “Good. I mean, it’s terrible that anypony died for this, but knowing that much of this is invented, helps a little.”
Reaper nodded: “Keep at it, and I’ll clean up behind you as you liberate these spirit fragments.”
Twilight took a deep breath, nodded and walked away toward the crumpled form of a mutilated, pink pegasus. A cluster of disjointed glyphs floated a few inches above.
“One-hundred-and-six.”
Reaper walked back toward Twilight, now sitting, slumped forward on her haunches. He prodded at piles of alien fragments and animal bones with his sword as he closed in on the final essence which was clinging to the dull-grey ground like fog.
Reaper gathered in the spirit and sat down next to Twilight, enrobed in a faintly-glowing cloud: “So you cleared-out a hundred-and-six corpse things…”
He tapped his chin for a moment and nodded slowly: “That sounds about right, given the amount of life energy I collected. I sense twelve distinct essences--eleven ponies and one griffon.”
Twilight turned wearily toward Reaper and furrowed her brow: “So that griffon was real. I wondered…”
Reaper looked around at the cloud surrounding him: “Now we just need to figure out how to get these spirits out of here so I can take them to the Waiting Room and let them go on their way.”
Twilight rose stiffly to her hooves and summoned the sacrifice circle: “Give me a minute.”
Beams of gold and violet magic lanced down from the circle and Twilight’s horn, and scored a yard-wide patch of the grey surface beneath her. Beads of sweat formed on her brow as a thin sheet of grey material, no thicker than the skin of an onion, peeled free with a crystalline tinkling sound and floated into the air.
Two additional rune-filled circles, one black, one violet, formed beside the sacrifice circle as the grey sheet twisted in on itself, then snapped into a perfect, cantaloupe-sized sphere.
Twilight turned toward Reaper and sent a band of black energy into the spirit mist, siphoning it off and funneling it through a small aperture on the sphere. After a minute the mist was gone, and the aperture closed noiselessly. She sat down with a thud and placed the sphere between her hooves.
“There. We-we can get the essences out of here, now. I’ll have to come with you to the Waiting Room to open it.”
Reaper raised an eyebrow: “How--”
“Spells thirty-one, seventy-two and one-oh-three.”
“You really have memorized everything!”
Twilight yawned and shook her head wearily: “So much redundancy, so much re-work; he just kept redoing and brute-forcing. I was able to consolidate pages of information down to twenty-eight core spells. That’s what I memorized.”
Reaper pointed to the sphere: “Including that?”
Twilight stared blankly between her hooves: “That’s my own addition. I mean, the essential containment concepts are his, but unicorns have made huge strides in material magic and crystallography in the last hundred years. I was able to peel off a molecule-thick sheet of this material and craft it into a simple holding device.”
Reaper chewed his lip: “With no loss of your own--”
“Essence? No, just a lot of power and magic--this is really tough stuff! I’m exhausted, and really need a drink.”
Reaper nodded and held out a hoof: “We should be able to get back topside quickly, I assume?”
Twilight took Reaper’s hoof and climbed to her hooves: “Yeah. This area’s cleared of all interference, and we can pick up my homing line in the zone above. We should be out of here in about two minutes.”
“Great. We can go straight to the Waiting Room so I can reintegrate these spirits and send them onward.”
Twilight lifted the sphere with her magic and stared at it: “But onward to what?”
They phased together and disappeared as darkness descended on the lonely field of bones.
Because I Could not Stop for Death
Celestia leapt forward in shock as Luna suddenly collapsed to the floor, eyes fluttering, chest heaving: “Sister! Luna! What’s happening?”
Luna twitched and convulsed as the silver ribbon connecting her horn to Reaper flickered and faded in-and-out. Celestia tucked her legs and dropped down beside her sister, slipping a hoof under a dark cheek and staring into her glazed, aquamarine eyes: “Can you hear me? Luna come back!”
Celestia looked around in panic and saw Reaper’s hindquarters shift and tail flick. She stumbled to her hooves and rushed to Reaper’s side: “Reaper! Can you hear me? Something’s happening to Luna--I fear she’s being pulled in, or is losing consciousness, or I don’t know what!”
Reaper’s ears twitched as he focused on Celestia’s distant cries, which were blotting-out faint sounds from somewhere inside the Void.
He tipped his head slightly toward his shoulder: “What’s going on? I can’t feel Luna as strongly! Did she move away from me?”
Celestia leaned forward, careful to avoid touching either Reaper or the Void’s surface: “No--she just suddenly dropped to the floor, almost as though she’d passed-out!”
Reaper clenched his teeth and tried to focus on the distant commotion that was just beyond his perception: “Shit! I don’t know what to do! I can’t actually go in any further or I’ll lose physical connection with Luna, and her astral form will become untethered!”
Celestia began pawing nervously: “I don’t know how to help! Should I try to wake her?”
“No! Let me try something first!”
Reaper closed his eyes and repositioned his body slightly so Luna’s silver ribbon touched the back of his head and drifted directly into his now-unguarded mind.
He bit his lip and reached out with his consciousness as though he was attempting to transit the dreamscape.
He felt a surge of speed as he was pulled forward into the Void, toward Luna. He swept past a vast, blurry shadow and saw it swirl and twist and reach toward him. He saw a burst of golden light in the distance, then caught the scent of singed flesh.
“Luna! Where are you?”
Reaper stepped through the tent flap and saw Luna, naked, sprawled out in Nai’a’s chair, drinking from a heavy chalice, a bloody, tattered, blue cloak at her feet.
She raised her head slowly and fought to focus on Reaper’s face: “Why have you returned, Harbinger? It is too late--I am where I belong, now. You abandoned me, and now I am Yunada’s.”
Reaper raised an eyebrow: “This is a credible facsimile, whoever you are, but you clearly don’t know me.”
Gerrar stepped out of the shadows: “No, but I do.”
Reaper chuckled and stepped forward toward Luna, who was now rising unsteadily from the chair: “Hardly. You would recognize almost nothing of me anymore. Return to your well-earned eternal exile and leave Luna be.”
Luna staggered sideways and draped an arm around Gerrar’s shoulder, exposing the torn wall behind the chair. Reaper squinted at the silhouettes revealed through the gap.
She took another unsteady swig from the chalice, spilling blood-red wine down her breasts: “No! He now gets to spend eternity with me, just like you wanted!” Gerrar drew his sword.
Reaper smiled sadly: “Right players, wrong scene, Princess. Time to go!”
He dived forward suddenly, ducking beneath Gerrar’s swing, driving his horn between Luna’s breasts with a bloody crunch.
She gasped in shock, and the scene exploded in a burst of crimson sparks and a swirl of impenetrable black smoke.
Bramble emerged from the red haze surrounding Celestia’s mock death scene and stopped short, looking down at Zecora’s prostrate form. He looked up at Gil and Kla’atra: “What happened?”
Gil shook his head and pointed back at through the chamber’s opening: “She passed through Celestia’s form just as Nightmare Moon’s shade completed its routine attack. She was knocked senseless, and has been lying here for several minutes.”
Bramble knelt beside the zebra: “Is she dead?”
Kla’atra shook her head: “No. Have you seen that she should still breathe?”
Bramble crouched quietly for a few moments watching the slow, shallow rise and fall of Zecora’s ribs: “Well that’s good, but what’s going on? Is she asleep again? Knocked-out?”
Gil chewed his lip: “Knocked-out, I would think. The shock of passing through one shade as another violently tore through it was too much.”
Bramble nodded: “So now what? Is there anything we can do, or do we just wait it out?”
“I hate to just wait here. The clock is ticking for her, and I don’t think she can last a lot longer, but since we can’t physically touch her or make a sound…”
Gil shrugged.
Kla’atra tipped her head sideways and worked her mandibles for a few seconds. Her eyes flashed pale blue: “There might have as yet been a way for me to have reached out to her consciousness.”
She settled to the floor as her eyes dimmed to a cloudy gray, and her forelimbs folded across her chest. A pale halo flickered briefly above her head, dissipated, then appeared over Zecora’s head.
Kla’atra’s eyes cleared and adjusted. She stood slowly and looked about a dimly-lit hut, arrayed with gourds and bottles, baskets and wooden bowls, and a low fire burning on a hearth.
She looked at the carved and painted masks on the walls and tipped her head to one side: “Zecora! Are you possibly to have been hearing me? / I had to have come into your mind, yet you I could not see.”
Kla’atra’s eyes flickered back and forth between green and gold several times, and she reached up to rub her mandibles. She turned to her left as she heard voices coming through a nearby door.
She stepped up to the door and pushed it ajar, peering through the gap with a pale-blue. multi-faceted eye. She saw Luna and Zecora together in an empty, white space. She watched their mouths move, but heard no sound.
Kla’atra pushed the door open and began to enter the space just as Luna’s horn began to glow.
“Zecora! Kla’atra believes she can reach you. Hold on… ”
Kla’atra stared intently at Luna; the alicorn’s eyes suddenly went wide and her mouth again opened silently for a moment before she vanished in a swirl of crimson-streaked smoke.
Zecora started, then looked back over her shoulder: “Kla’atra! How did you get here?”
“I would to have reached into your consciousness in an attempt to awaken you.”
“What happened?”
“As you were to have passed through the shade of Celestia, Nightmare Moon’s phantom should have struck at the same moment, shocking you into unconsciousness. It might well have had stripped your essence away, given your weakened state.”
She pointed to the spot where Luna had sat: “Who would that have been? It may have been another form of Nightmare Moon?”
Zecora nodded: “In a way, yes--that was Luna. At least I think that was Luna. I don’t think I’m dreaming this.”
“No, it would be unlikely that I could be reaching your resting mind in such a state--I shall have been probing directly into your consciousness. That having been successful, should we now arouse to wakefulness.”
Her eyes flashed silver and pale blue as a halo formed over Zecora’s head.
Zecora struggled to open her eyes and focus on Bramble’s face: “Whe-where are we?”
The unicorn leaned back and sat on his haunches: “Where you fell after passing through Celestia’s image. I’m glad to see you awake again!”
Zecora struggled to her hooves as Gil drifted closer, nodding: “As am I! Hopefully you didn’t suffer any damage from your encounter.”
Zecora rubbed her muzzle and lifted a vial from her saddlebag: “I hope not, too! I’m just glad Kla’atra was able to connect with me and help me return.”
Kla’atra stood and worked her mandibles for a moment: “It were to have appeared that a form of Nightmare Moon would have been present, sharing Zecora’s consciousness.”
Gil raised an eyebrow: “Luna?”
Zecora nodded
“You said she had reached you through a dream a while back. Did that happen again?”
Zecora quaffed a mouthful of dark green fluid, shuddered, and put the vial back in her bag: “No, Kla’atra is right--Luna was literally with me, sharing my consciousness for a bit. I think she was pulled away by the Harbinger.”
Gil stroked his ghostly chin: “Fascinating. I wonder what this means?”
Bramble stood and tipped his horn over his shoulder toward the passageway behind them: “I don’t know, and I have to more mysteries to toss on the pile.”
Kla’atra’s eyes flashed silver: “Mysteries?”
The colt closed his eyes for a long moment: “As we were making our way across the last chamber, I thought I saw something moving along the floor, in the shadows.”
“Something?”
“I can’t be sure--the lighting back there is tricky and I didn’t want to expend any power, but I tried to track whatever it was.”
He shifted uneasily: “I think it was Squish.”
Gil’s eyebrows jumped: “Here? Away from the Swamp or its stream?”
Bramble chewed his lip and nodded: “Yeah, I know--it doesn’t make any sense. But so many things aren’t making sense lately. Which leads to the second surprise.”
“Yes?”
“He’s gone.”
“Who?”
“Grey Thorn. I went through the last two chambers and back to the temple-library, and he’s--well, take a look for yourself.”
Gil drifted around Zecora and stuck his head through the opening into the previous chamber: “I’ll be damned, you’re right! He’s not there anymore!”
Bramble nodded: “Right. Like I said, I went back out through the front of the cave and ran to the library. His shade’s just gone.”
Gil drifted to the floor and closed his eyes: “I don’t understand it--what could erase a shade? Did they just evaporate? But why just Grey Thorn’s?”
Bramble shrugged: “One good thing, at any rate--”
He stepped through the entryway and returned a minute later, leading a dazed and sullen Green Streak: “I found her slumped in a corner not far from here. I had her wait a few yards away until I could be sure that what had happened to Zecora wasn’t a threat.”
Gli nodded and rose slowly from the floor: “Good thinking.”
He turned toward the disconsolate pegasus: “Come child, we can collectively think and ponder and discuss what all this means as we go, and go we must. Clearly everything seems to be changing for the first time in centuries, and I have no idea how long any of us has left, now.”
The pale shade and Green Streak moved slowly up a narrow path, joined by Bramble and an unsteady Zecora.
Kla’atra stood still as the zebra walked past, then tipped her head sideways, worked her mandibles for a moment, and fell in, bringing up the rear as the gloom swallowed the group.
Luna’s body spasmed and twitched suddenly, and Celestia was down on her knees beside her sister’s head in a flash: “Luna! Can you hear me? Are you alright?”
Luna’s eyes fluttered open and focused for a moment on Celestia’s face before closing again: “Thank the stars, I am back! I feared I might be trapped in, well, I am unsure exactly in what !”
Reaper took a step back, extracting himself from the Void, and turned to face the Princesses: “Some kind of state of altered consciousness, it appeared to me. It wasn’t exactly a dream…”
Luna wobbled unsteadily to her haunches with Celestia’s help: “No, though it seemed to share many features. However, I had no control there. I was--I was…”
She fell silent. Reaper raised an eyebrow: “In the tent again, I take it.”
“Yes.”
Reaper nodded: “As was I. Clearly whatever’s going on in that space we entered can tap into our memories.”
Luna furrowed her brow: “Yet that was not the most confusing aspect of it. I encountered Zecora--”
Celestia’s eyebrows jumped: “Zecora? Was she alright?”
“I am unsure, however her mind seemed sound, at least. I actually shared her consciousness for a short time until I was pulled away.”
Reaper tipped his head to one side: “Are you certain? Perhaps it was another dream-like state…”
Luna smiled grimly: “I am sure of it. I doubt anypony knows more about sharing a consciousness than I.”
She stood slowly and stretched: “In addition, I saw a thing there, just as I was pulled away that I cannot possibly have imagined!”
Celestia furrowed her brow: “What do you mean?”
“Zecora spoke of somepony--at least I assume it was a pony--named Gil, and his friend, Kla-something. I could not quite make the word out, but at the last moment, a door opened and a large insect-like creature began to enter our shared space.”
“How bizarre! Do you think it was real, or something imagined?”
Luna shook her head: “If imagined, it must have come from Zecora’s subconscious. That thing looked entirely alien to me, and I have seen countless creatures in innumerable dreams.”
“It must be the remnant or essence of the creature Grey Thorn slew when he took its ship.”
Three heads tuned in unison as Twilight emerged from the shadows.
Luna tipped her head down slightly in greeting: “Twilight! I am pleased that you were able to--”
“What are you doing here?”
Celestia’s eyes went wide: “Twilight! That was uncalled for! We left you to rest since you were clearly drained.”
Twilight closed her eyes and took a deep breath: “I’m fine. So, what are you all doing here?”
Reaper raised an eyebrow: “You forget yourself, Princess ! Who put you in charge?”
Twilight snapped her head to her right and narrowed her eyes: “You did!” She gestured at the Void: “And that thing!” She nodded sharply toward the floor: “And him, down there in Tartarus most of all! All of you!”
She stepped up to Reaper until their muzzles almost touched. Her nostrils flared: “So, what were you doing?”
Reaper sniffed and smiled coldly: “A bit of the hair of the timberwolf?”
“Just some cider--enough to stop the shakes.”
She sighed and turned back toward Celestia: “I’m sorry, everypony, I’m just pressed for time, and every minute is precious! I should have been here.”
Reaper’s expression softened a bit: “It’s fine, Twilight. To be honest, I’m not sure what you could have done here in any event.”
“So what, did happen?”
Luna gestured toward the Void: “I encountered Zecora’s consciousness after my own was pulled away from me briefly.”
Reaper nodded: “And I was able to project inside enough to make contact with Luna, and help her snap back here.”
Celestia chewed her lip for a moment: “Did you also see the creature?”
“No, though I did encounter something else, something vast and powerful.”
Luna nodded: “The entity.”
“Yes.”
Reaper rubbed his chin: “I don’t believe I’ve ever told any of you about my earliest days on this world.”
The Princesses shook their heads.
Reaper began to pace: “So upon my death on Kur, I was summoned to this world, and was given the form of the newly-ennobled, dominant species.”
Celestia nodded: “Ponies.”
“Right. And when I found one dying at the bottom of a ravine, I finished off my form by adding a horn.”
“So unicorns were the first?”
“Correct--followed by pegasi and earth ponies not long thereafter. Over the centuries, griffons, yaks and others would achieve full sentience and be added to the list of ennobled creatures.”
He turned back toward the Void: “But dragons were a different matter. There were some ancient dragons who never really did achieve full ennobling. They remained, well, for lack of a better term, bestial until their deaths.”
He looked over his shoulder at the Sisters: “The last one actually died sometime shortly after you two came on the scene.”
Luna furrowed her brow: “Interesting, but I fail to see--”
“Bestial. Wild. Clever and intelligent, but not truly sentient. Powerful and ancient and hungry and dangerous.”
He tipped his head toward the Void: “Just like that thing. As it swept past me I felt a vast, primal, savage hunger--not evil, for that requires intent--but no less dangerous all the same.”
Twilight chewed her lip: “So?”
Reaper raised his head high and adjusted his cloak: “I don’t think it can be controlled. I think any attempt to open the Void will end in catastrophe.”
Twilight shook her head: “I know almost everything I need, now. I can control it--defeat it, if necessary. I can--”
Reaper locked eyes with Twilight and circled her: “And I can now enter the Void and resolve this without that kind of risk to you, to Canterlot, possibly to this whole world.”
Celestia smiled nervously: “You can rescue Zecora? Without having to open that dreadful thing?”
Reaper licked his lips and looked away from Twilight, turning to face the Sisters. Twilight’s eyes suddenly went wide: “No!”
Reaper glanced back at the agitated alicorn: “It’s the only way, Twilight. We can’t take the--”
“Fuck you! I won’t allow it!”
Luna looked back and forth between Reaper and Twilight in alarm: “What will you not allow?”
Twilight pointed at Reaper, eyes ablaze: “He wants to kill her!”
Luna’s eyebrows jumped: “What? Is this true?”
Reaper nodded: “I can project in again with your assistance, reap Zecora, and extract her essence.”
He turned toward Celestia: “I know it’s not ideal, but it will allow me to safely send her on without risk to her or anypony else. Then we can dispose of the Void and--”
Twilight flared her wings and dashed between Reaper and the Void: “And her body! And what was the point of all of this, then? Why did we do all this, sacrifice all this?”
“Twilight, I--”
“You don’t care! We’re all so much mulch-in-waiting to you!”
She looked at Celestia, tears welling in her eyes: “She’s my friend and she sacrificed herself, and--and…”
Celestia stepped forward as Reaper moved aside. She draped a white wing over Twilight’s trembling shoulders: “This is a lot for all of us to take in, right now.”
She glanced over at Luna: “Perhaps we can leave this place and go back to my chambers and discuss our options after a bit of rest.”
Twilight took a deep, shuddering breath: “Alright--I’m-I’m sorry. I just, I’m-I’m so close to having this all worked-out, and to just throw it all away…”
Reaper raised an eyebrow: “It?”
“Ze-Zecora. To just throw away her life like that…”
Reaper chewed his lip for a moment and glanced back at the Void as the three alicorns teleported away. He stood in the dark, silent chamber for a moment, then faded out.
A few hours later the dark was pierced by a brief, violet-and-gold flash. A gossamer-thin circle formed on the surface of the Void, then faded a moment later.
The unbroken dark returned.
Because I Could not Stop for Death
The rock broke free above him (again) and careened toward his head. He cried out in desperation, and a golden glow suddenly stopped the cold, dark slab inches from his face.
He rolled to his side, groaning from the effort and the pain in his ribs. He saw Grey Thorn, horn shining, standing a few yards away. A disheveled purple alicorn in a tattered, white cloak stood beside him.
She drew her notched, dented sword: “Don’t bother--he’s so much dead meat anyway. What’s the point of a few more moments of life?”
He struggled to right himself, but the slab slowly pressed down on him, inch by inch: “If that’s all there is, don’t I at least deserve that much?”
Twilight rolled her eyes and idly poked her blade at Smudge’s broken, bleeding body: “For what? What’s the difference between eating and sleeping and laughing and fucking, and decaying and molding and rotting and dissolving?”
She shrugged: “None, as far as I can tell.”
Grey Thorn furrowed his brow: “But what about his spirit? What’s to become of that?”
“Not your problem. That’s just as pointless as the flesh, but I’ll take care of it anyway.”
He felt the crushing weight of stone and darkness and terror as Grey Thorn removed his magic.
He screamed and choked as a red film descended over his eyes.
“Oh, look--he shit himself again…”
Noble Steel cried out and sat up, tangled in a sweat-soaked sheet. He shuddered as his heart and breathing slowed, and reached out with his magic to levitate a cup of cider.
“You, too, huh?”
Noble started and dropped the cup. It froze before it hit the floor, wrapped in a pale, violet glow. He turned his head and saw Twilight sitting on a cushion next to the door.
“Wh-why are you here?”
Twilight righted the cup and returned it to the side table: “We have to go--now. Things are moving fast, and I need to ask Grey Thorn a couple more questions, before it’s too late.”
Noble retrieved the cup as he slid to the edge of the bed: “‘Too late?’ What’s up? Is something happening to the Void?”
“Not exactly.”
He took a long drink and wiped his mouth with the back of a hoof: “What does that mean?”
Twilight took a deep breath: “Reaper’s figured out how to project his essence into the Void, with Luna’s help.”
“And?”
“He means to kill Zecora.”
Noble’s eyebrows jumped: “How does that help?”
“He can extract her spirit and send it on beyond--only her body would be trapped in the Void. There’d be no reason to open the containment device and tangle with the entity inside.”
Noble glanced at Twilight’s dark expression and chewed his lip for a moment: “Obviously you disagree.”
“Yeah.”
“I mean, it does resolve the problem without--”
Twilight shook her head and bared her teeth: “No! I’m only missing a couple of pieces of information, and I can open the device and control that creature. The risk will be minimal, and Zecora can live out the rest of her days without that ghoul getting his hooves on her.”
Noble shrugged sympathetically: “I suppose, but I can see his point. She will die someday in any event, and it sounds like he’s trying to prevent a greater catastrophe.”
“Maybe.”
Noble drained the cup and furrowed his brow: “‘Maybe’ he’s trying to prevent a greater catastrophe, or ‘maybe’ Zecora will die someday anyway?”
Twilight blinked slowly and stood: “Let’s go.”
Noble stood as Twilight’s teleport flash faded. He looked around he room pensively: “Luna? Are you here?”
He stood silently for a few moments, chewing his lip, then disappeared with a ‘bang.’
Twilight strode swiftly up to Grey Thorn’s enclosure with Noble stumbling behind, squinting and shielding his eyes from the Pit: “Hold up! I’m having trouble--”
“Keep up, Noble! I’m out of time, and out of patience!”
Grey Thorn turned slowly to face them: “You seem agitated, Princess. Is anything amiss?”
“I need to know two things, quickly.”
“Two. Well, that will require--”
Twilight rolled her eyes: “Yeah, yeah I know! I’ll give you one right now: I figured out you were time travelling as well as moving through space.”
Grey Thorn raised an eyebrow: “How did you determine this?”
“That table of yours. I spent dozens and dozens of hours clearing-out a whole zone or layer or whatever you call it. It was obvious that you had been reaching back into prehistoric times for some of your spells, and probably some sacrifices, as well.”
Grey Thorn nodded slowly: “Starswirl was always hesitant about moving through time. I would occasionally sneak off without his knowledge. Then of course, after he died…”
“The stable was thrown wide open.”
Grey Thorn smiled coldly: “I was certainly more at liberty to explore, yes.”
He tipped his head to one side: “What did you mean by ‘cleared-out?’”
“Reaper and I phased through the table into its intradimensional spaces where I discovered scores of spells and equations bound to visions of old sacrifices. By erasing those old images, visions, phantasms, whatever they were, I could unlock and clarify the attached artifact.”
“Fascinating. So you now understand my creation as well as I do.”
“Better, actually. You never had anyone to cross-check or correct your work. And I don’t think you fundamentally understood some of it to begin with.”
“Oh, but you do?”
“Yeah, I do--except for one thing: I need to see the final binding spell where you harnessed that creature to the containment vessel.”
Grey Thorn furrowed his brow: “That’s a bit...problematic.”
“Why?”
Grey Thorn turned away: “I don’t entirely recall it; I was almost in a fugue state. It’s also the point at which I stripped away my essence for the last time. It was the most-searing one.”
Twilight smiled savagely: “Show me.”
Grey Thorn closed his eyes and pointed his horn toward the chamber roof. The air throbbed with energy, and brightened as a triple-banded sacrifice circle filled Twilight’s vision. The nested bands slowly rotated as glyphs and runes sparkled and darkened, seemingly at random.
“Three power zones? Were you actually prepared to destroy yourself at the end?”
“I almost did. By this time I had resolved to either successfully integrate the creature and bond to the unified whole, or die in the attempt. I didn’t care which.”
Twilight squinted at the blurred images: “How drunk were you?”
“I wasn’t. You should recognize the tunneling effect and loss of focus.”
Twilight nodded: “You were dying.”
“Yes.”
A black tendril shot out of the bright haze; a beam of golden energy met it and froze it mid-air. Three more black ribbons converged on the first and were also halted and pressed together by golden bands. An angry screech echoed in the distance.
“I was using my entire self as bait. I had cuts down my back, and had made a hard connection between the circle and my outbound magic. It was all-or-nothing.”
Suddenly the scene went dark, and Twilight felt herself being drawn up toward the images. She flared her wings and hunkered down: “What’s happening?”
“The end.”
The alcove was plunged into impenetrable blackness, and Twilight heard Noble screaming in terror (or was it Grey Thorn? Or was it herself?) She felt again the irresistible pull of her life force being sucked out and struggled to escape, but stopped as she heard power words being shrieked and an awful tearing sound. She smelled blood and saw a small, pale-golden shape emerge from the darkness for a moment, then fall off to one side like a meteor.
Twilight collapsed to the floor and stared with frozen eyes as a maw of shifting deep purple and black that defied focus swept forward and latched onto the blood-drenched sacrifice circle. The scene shuddered violently and Twilight heard Noble (or was it Grey Thorn?) gasping and blubbering.
“Where do we go when we die, Gil?”
“How did my dam die?”
“You stopped death once!”
Twilight screamed in rage as the scars on her wrists split open, pouring blood onto the floor: “Enough!!”
Grey Thorn shook his head sadly: “It’s never enough, child. It always wants more…”
Twilight lurched to her hooves as the darkness overwhelmed the alcove again: “NOT THIS TIME!”
Her horn blazed with jets of gold and violet flame, flooding the area with blinding radiance. Noble squeezed his eyes shut and tried to shield himself behind an outcropping. The darkness and brilliance canceled each other and dissipated with a thunderclap.
Twilight dropped to the ground, panting: “Wha-what was the thing I saw falling?”
“The last piece of me save for the tattered remains you see before you.”
“H-how long did it take you to recover?”
“I’m not sure. I collapsed from shock and blood loss. Ironically, I almost died then, even though I had finally achieved my goal.”
Twilight nodded weakly as she threw bands of healing magic across her dripping writs: “And then you could draw from the Void at last, which also probably kept you alive.”
Grey Thorn tipped his horn toward the roof as the scene resumed: “Yes. I came to sometime later, and things had, well, changed .”
Twilight rubbed her eyes and looked up to see the containment device now shrouded in a jet-black nimbus, A thin, smoke-like ribbon snaked its way across the floor.
“Clearly the creature was now successfully integrated and could partially phase through the device. It couldn't fully escape its confinement, but it could sort of ooze from the surface. Over the coming weeks I learned to guide and control it, allowing it to reach out and retract, taking lifeforce from prey and giving it back to me in turn.”
Twilight rubbed her temples and took a deep breath. Her horn glowed and a copy of the triple-banded circle formed in the air: “This is it, then--this is what’s etched into the top of the interior of the device. This is what’s anchored the creature for all these centuries.”
“I--I can’t entirely recall…”
“Doesn’t matter--I know it’s right. Your vision just dropped the final pieces in-place and confirmed that you used a triple circle.”
Twilight stood and shook the dust from her coat: “Any last questions? Any freebies? I assume this’ll be the last we ever see of each other.”
She turned toward Noble who was leaning against a wall: “Let’s go, Steel--I have work to do, and not much time left to do it.”
The groggy unicorn furrowed his brow and stumbled forward a bit: “Wait a minute! Aren’t you finally going to get an answer out of him for why ?”
“Why what?”
“Why did he do all this? What was the point? Why cause the destruction of hundreds of ponies over a thousand years? Why create that monstrosity in the first place?”
Twilight shrugged: “Doesn’t matter anymore. I found out what I needed.”
Grey Thorn pressed against the bars of his enclosure: “You did say you had, quote ‘a couple of questions.’ We only really covered one topic.”
Twilight rolled her eyes and sat: “That desperate for conversation, huh? Fine--make it quick.”
Grey Thorn sighed: “You are aware, I assume, that my dam died birthing me.”
“Yeah--I saw the death vision. I watched her die right after giving birth.”
Grey Thorn raised an eyebrow: “Interesting--I did not know that. In any event, I carried a burden of guilt that was common among foals whose dams died under such circumstances.”
“I’m sure.”
“So when I grew old enough to understand what had happened, I asked Starswirl where my dam had gone after she died. He told me he had buried her body.”
“Which wasn’t what you meant, I assume.”
“Correct. I wanted some small solace that she was in a better place, or still in this world somehow--something. When I clarified my question Starswirl replied that nopony knew what ultimately happened to our spirits after death, just that we go on beyond the bounds of this world. This was a deeply unsatisfying answer.”
Grey Thorn steepled his hooves: “Some years later, after I had seen a few deaths in some of the seedier districts of early Canterlot, I revisited the question. This time Starswirl described the research he had done into death and its mechanics, its resolution, what comes after.”
“The books in your secret library-lair.”
“That was some of it, yes. It was at this time I began to make copies, sensing the transgressive nature of some of his more, shall we say, sensitive materials.”
“Sensitive?”
“He began to see death not so much as the termination or negation of life, but as its companion, its counterpart, its completion. As such, he began to suspect that death itself could be managed and contained and cultivated, just as life is.”
Twilight folded her forelegs: “But that’s not what you created. You created some kind of vampire machine that takes life and grinds it up, erasing and digesting it. All you did was craft a different version of death.”
“That was never my intent. I watched with fascination as Starswirl pieced together fragments of ancient texts describing a long-lost death cult that sought to appease D'hurgmrei . They believed he could forestall or undo death as its master.”
“‘D'hurgmrei?’”
Grey Thorn smiled coolly: “Ask your friend about that. I doubt he’s heard that particular name in a very long time.”
Twilight chewed her lip: “Forestall. This must have been when Starswirl crafted his masking spell.”
“Yes, along with a whole series of wards and glyphs for shielding oneself from death. It was his ultimate hope that ponies could learn to manage death like weather or disease.”
“And then he burned everything and let his guard down. Why? What went wrong?”
Grey Thorn sat quietly for a few moments then licked his lips: “He was unwilling to do what had to be done to further the research.”
“In other words, sacrifices.”
“Yes. I could see where we would have to go: we would have to study death in detail, break it down, deconstruct it in order to really understand its connection to life. Only then would we be able to sidestep or forestall or contain it.”
Twilight stared up at the sacrifice circle, still hanging in the air: “That’s where dying and doing the Harbinger’s job have helped.”
Grey Thorn frowned: “Yes, well some of us didn’t have those advantages .”
Twilight shrugged dismissively: “Then you should have quit while you were ahead--” she turned away from the circle and raised an eyebrow at Grey Thorn: “and alive.”
Grey Thorn’s nostrils flared: “Arrogant bitch! What would you have done?”
“Exactly what I did: use Death’s energy as a catalyst to reverse-engineer life’s effects. You could have saved dozens of attempts, dozens of creatures, and probably most of your essence.”
“But the equations--”
“Are difficult, but solvable. You had the greatest unicorn sorcerer who ever lived at-hoof. He wanted to pull back the veil, too, but couldn’t bear the thought of destroying life to do it. You could have showed him an alternative.”
Twilight stood and gestured to Noble: “Let’s go. I have the last pieces I need to wrap this up and solve all the insolubles.”
Grey Thorn pressed against his enclosure: “Then what, Princess?”
Twilight stopped and looked over her shoulder with furrowed brow: “What do you mean, ‘then what?’”
“Once you’ve finalized your spells, broken the seals, subdued the creature--if you can--and rescued your friend, then what?”
Noble licked his lips and glanced back and forth between Twilight and Grey Thorn. Twilight blinked slowly: “There are a lot of questions that thing can answer. We’ll see…”
She turned and trotted briskly from the alcove.
Noble stared at Twilight in dismay, and shot a black look over his shoulder at Grey Thorn before hastily stumbling after the fast-disappearing alicorn: “Twilight, wait!”
Grey Thorn sat and stared up at the fading, broken traces of the sacrifice circle as they winked-out: “Where do we go when we die, Princess?”
Because I Could not Stop for Death
Gil drifted up a narrow passage, paused at the threshold of a low, sagging opening, and gestured for Zecora to join him: “This is the end of the shielded tunnel; we have to step out into the Swamp itself, at this point.”
Zecora stepped beside the ghostly unicorn and peered out through the gap. The terrain sloped sharply upward at an odd cant, as though a dim, otherworldly, grey bog had been tipped skyward at a 30-degree angle. The entire area was dotted with shades, embedded in the ground like animated corpses, arrested in the act of breaking through the surface.
She leaned back into the cave: “It seems quite steep. I don’t know if I’ll be able to crawl up that, let alone walk or run!”
Gil smiled: “The angle is deceptive. In many ways this place orients itself to the Sentinel, not the other way around. So as we work our way up the Swamp toward its pinnacle--the point at which it finally makes contact with the Vacuum itself, you’ll be able to look back at the world below, and see it rising up and away at a sharp angle.”
Bramble nodded: “And as we work our way around the backside, you’ll see the stream appear to flow upward along the Swamp, then back down as it comes around the front.”
Zecora furrowed her brow: “So the stream is a continuous loop?”
“Right.”
“How disorienting! So this will all seem like a flat bog?”
“Not quite. It’s crudely terraced, and there is some slope to it. Since you’re a true, physical being, you’re likely to have some issues with traction, occasionally.”
Zecora furrowed her brow: “I’m sure that’s going to make evading the Sentinel all the more difficult!”
Gil frowned: “This close-in that’s not really possible in any event. Which reminds me--I think it’s time you broke out your powder, the one you said can be used to mask us.”
Zecora nodded and pulled a pouch out of her bag: “Solar and Noble would generate a shield as I threw up a hoofful of this powder. It gets caught in the field and blocks out our presence.”
Gil raised an eyebrow: “Let me see a bit of that.”
Zecora tapped a small amount of bright-yellow dust onto the cave floor and stepped back as Gil leaned down. A thin beam of shifting energy emanated from his horn and bathed the powder in a pale blue glow.
Gil bit his lip and shifted his magic through a variety of colors and intensities, until the dust began to sparkle and fade.
Bramble tipped his head down and sent out a matching beam; the dust faded entirely from view: “That’s the right frequency. I just hope we can keep this up!”
Zecora furrowed her brow: “Solar Gleam thought he could maintain the screen for up to six hours. How long can you hold out?”
Gil glanced at Bramble and shrugged: “Between the two of us? Maybe as long as six? I don’t really know…”
Green Streak frowned: “I know I’m not a unicorn, but is there any way I can help with this?” She tipped her head toward Kla’atra: “Or her?”
Kla’atra’s eye flashed pale violet for a moment: “It shall have been not possible for me to have assisted with this process--my psionic abilities could have emulated certain magics, but are not to have been additive.”
Green Streak raised an eyebrow: “Umm…”
Gil smiled: “I understand your confusion, Lieutenant. Kla’atra’s powers and abilities act somewhat like magic, but are not actually magic, so they’ll be of no use in a case like this.”
He pointed to the pegasus’ wings: “It would be akin to a unicorn crafting some type of flying device--I could remain aloft and glide, but I wouldn’t really be flying, and I couldn’t maintain any sort of formation with true flyers like yourself.”
Green Streak’s shoulders slumped: “I just wish there was something I could do. I didn’t think anything could be as bad as being dead, but it turns out that dead and useless is even worse!”
“Fear not, Lieutenant--I suspect there will be more than enough for all of us to do as we near the summit!”
Bramble stepped out of the cave and peered into the distance for a few moments. He looked back over his shoulder with a confused frown: “I’m sure you’re right! This whole area has been altered. I hardly recognize any of it, now!”
Gil’s eyebrows rose: “I hope the Last Waypoint is still there, or this will all be for nothing!”
Zecora tipped her head as she watched Bramble tentatively walk a few steps further out: “‘Last Waypoint?’”
“The last place to see one of Grey Thorn’s shades. It’s as close as one can get to the final pinnacle of the Swamp without actually making direct contact with the Sentinel.”
“So it’s another one of these shielded places?”
Bramble stepped back into the cave and shook his head: “I wish. It is sheltered, but just barely.”
Gil bit his lip: “And that’s going to be a problem in any event, even if it’s still there. There’s no way it can protect all five of us at once. We’re just going to have to hope your powder and our feeble magic are enough to keep us screened; the Last Waypoint won’t offer much assistance.”
Bramble’s eyes hardened: “No, but it’ll help. We’d better get going; I sense the Sentinel shifting.”
Kla’atra’s eyes flashed silver: “Hunting?”
Bramble’s brow furrowed: “Not exactly. I can’t put my hoof on it--it’s almost like it’s waiting? Uncertain? Confused? Preparing? I can’t tell. All I know is it’s giving us a chance to make some headway before it recovers.”
Gil nodded and drifted through the entrance, gesturing to Zecora as he went: “Come--Bramble and I will set the web for your powder, but we have to be quick!”
Zecora ducked and stepped through the low opening as a shimmering film appeared above her and Gil. She centered herself under the field and tossed a walnut-sized pile of bright-yellow dust straight up. The powder caught in the magical matrix and flowed like water, swirling and cascading down to the ground like rain sheeting off an umbrella. Zecora and Gil disappeared from the others’ sight.
Green Streak’s eyebrows jumped: “Well that worked! Now what?”
Bramble held out a hoof and guided the nervous pegasus out of the passage: “Right this way. The barrier won’t stop anything from passing through--just walk another yard or so, and…”
Green Streak vanished.
Bramble smiled and turned toward Kla’atra: “Your turn.”
Kla’atra paused: “Would you think that this might have been successful?”
“What? This whole venture?”
Kla’atra nodded.
Bramble closed his eyes and shrugged: “It doesn’t matter. I hope it is, but after a thousand years, I’m tired of this--” He swept a hoof wide: “All of this--this place, the Sentinel, my part in all of it. One way or another, it ends here.”
Kla’atra’s eyes flashed gold and dull red for a moment, then she stepped out of the cave and disappeared under the cloaking field.
Bramble sighed as he looked back into the gloom of the cave one last time before turning and stepping beneath the cloak, his horn glowing a pale gold.
A few moments later a shape crept around a corner, moved through the entrance, and disappeared into the grey bog, slipping from hole to hole.
“And you’re sure there’s no other way?”
Reaper shook his head as Celestia paced nervously in front of a low couch in her private quarters: “I know it seems cruel to end things this way, to abandon her body without a proper funeral, but this is the lowest-risk route available.”
“Will Zecora even be aware of what’s happening?”
Reaper shrugged: “Hard to say. I suppose it depends on how we find her. If Luna’s able to reach out to her for a moment we can make her aware, otherwise I’ll simply explain it when I get her to the Waiting Room.”
“And the risk to Luna?”
“Minimal. Since our last trip in I figured out the trick to maneuvering inside the Void. I would only need Luna to provide a momentary connection to Zecora, then she could shrink back and hold on for the few seconds it’ll take me to close the gap and reap.”
“Is there any chance you might become trapped?”
Reaper smiled: “No, though thanks for asking!”
Celestia sank wearily onto the couch, rubbed her eyes and picked up a small, gilt-edge wine flute. She took a long sip of liqueur: “How did it come to this?”
“What? Zecora?”
“No, yes--no, I mean all of it. All of this! What possessed him?”
“You mean them.”
“Them?”
Reaper sat down on an ottoman across from Celestia: “Grey Thorn wasn’t the first--”
“Starswirl…”
“Right. And he’s not the last.”
Celestia furrowed her brow and drained her glass: “Twilight.”
She turned away from Reaper and stared at Philomena, resting in her ornate cage: “I don’t understand any of it.”
“They hate--or hated, in Starswirl’s case--unanswerable questions and impenetrable mysteries.”
Celestia nodded slowly: “Yes. It’s part of what made Starswirl such an outstanding wizard. He was more than just a keen mind and powerful spirit--he was driven by a thirst for knowledge.”
“And clearly Grey Thorn picked that up.”
“And let it lead him astray.”
Reaper smiled sadly: “To be honest there’s barely a knife’s-edge of difference between the two. Starswirl could just have easily taken the turn Grey Thorn did--in fact he did! He just pulled back at the last moment.”
Celestia refilled her flute: “But by then…”
“By then Grey Thorn had taken up the mantle. We know he’d been helping the old sorcerer for some time. Clearly he thought he could finish what his old mentor had started.”
Celestia shook her head: “Surely that, that thing can’t be what Starswirl envisioned!”
“Oh, I’m sure it’s not. But Twilight’s right: Grey Thorn is obviously given to shortcuts and 80-percent solutions and brute-force fixes. He’s smart--smart enough to cobble together a damned-impressive device and capture, frankly, the most-dangerous creature I’ve ever imagined!”
He stood and walked over to the phoenix: “But he was never smart--or disciplined--enough to clean-up all the loose ends. And nopony can overcome Entropy, no matter how clever or driven.”
He smiled and tipped his horn down toward the gold-and-red bird: “Only your little friend here has figured out that trick. And even she won’t be able to do it forever.”
Celestia closed her eyes and let her glass drift to the floor: “And Twilight…”
“Yeah. Third time’s the charm, huh? She may be the brightest of them all. But even she can’t outwit Entropy.”
“But might she be right--even somewhat? Maybe she can contain that creature and free Zecora.”
“No. You don’t even want to think about the possibility of that thing getting out. It appears to have a phasing ability that would render it nearly immune to reaping, and you wouldn’t dare attack it--it would suck you dry!”
“Then we had best make haste while Twilight is otherwise occupied.”
Reaper and Celestia turned to see Luna entering the room.
Celestia rose from her couch: “Where is she?”
“Back in Dux’a’s baths--her last trip to see Grey Thorn left her particularly drained. Even Noble nearly collapsed from nervous exhaustion upon his return.”
Reaper sighed and adjusted his sword and cloak: “Then let’s get this done. It’s going to be rough on her in any event, so the sooner we’re finished, the better.”
He faded out as the Sisters traded worried glances and teleported away in twin flashes. One of Philomena’s feathers drifted to the bottom of her cage.
Reaper and the two alicorns appeared near the Void moments later; Luna paused to light a pair of lamps, then stepped up beside her sister, roughly three yards from the Void: “It is a shame there was no other way. Zecora was brave and resourceful; I will be sad to know she is gone.”
Reaper nodded as he stepped toward the dull, black sphere: “It can’t be helped--at least she’ll have a clean death, and can go beyond this world intact.”
Luna took a deep breath and stepped up and to Reaper’s left as Celestia fell back a yard and chewed her lip. Reaper closed the final few inches and leaned forward. His horn contacted the surface of the Void with a leaden ‘thud.’
He stepped back, confused: “What the...?”
Luna furrowed her brow and tipped her head sideways: “Trouble?”
“I’m blocked.”
Luna tapped her chin for a moment, then swept the Void with a wide beam of dark magic. Celestia shuddered as a glyph-filled, golden circle flickered on the Void's featureless surface.
Reaper gritted his teeth: “Oh, shit.”
Twilight’s eyes snapped open, and she looked around the baths, finally focusing on the coals beneath the hot water cauldron. The charcoal flared with violet and gold flames for a few moments, before fading back to cherry-red. She smiled grimly and stood, warm, scented water sheeting from her skin, dripping from her bangs and breasts.
She turned to Nahko and Eska: “Girls, I need to go.”
Eska rose and pulled herself out of the pool; she picked up a towel from a low bench and turned to Twilight: “Is everything a-right, Princess?”
Twilight took a deep breath as the parzaile wrapped the towel around her: “No, but this was inevitable, I suppose.”
She stepped into a pair of slippers and headed toward the exit, pausing a moment to look over her shoulder at the two concerned faces peering at her through the dim, perfumed haze: “If I never see you again, thank you for all you’ve done.”
She smiled wistfully as she turned away: “I’ll remember you in my dreams.”
Luna shook her head: “I do not recognize some of these symbols. I do not know how long it will take to decipher and undo this!”
“No need--I’ll take care of it.”
Three heads turned as one as Twilight stepped out from behind the Void, wreathed in dark magic. She reached out with a bloody hoof and touched its inky surface as a triple sacrifice circle blazed into being above the sphere like a gaudy halo.
“Let’s do this.”
Because I Could not Stop for Death
Celestia started and squinted at the glowing rings hovering above the Void: “Tw-Twilight! What are you doing?”
Luna stepped back a pace and furrowed her brow: “I thought you were--”
“In Dux’a’s baths where you left me? No, though you clearly believed I’d still be there.”
Luna eyes went wide: “Surely you are not accusing me of--”
“Purposely tricking me into the baths so you could sneak down here? No. I’m sure your desire to see me unwind and de-stress was genuine. But the timing sure was convenient, no?”
Reaper regarded Twilight coolly: “And it sure looks like you could use a bit more unwinding . Maybe you should head back to Nahko and Eska for a bit.”
Twilight’s eyes glittered dangerously as a drop of blood fell from her wrist: “You first, D'hurgmrei. I really don’t think I want to leave you alone with the Void and Zecora, right now.”
A thin smile spread across Reaper’s face: “So what ancient tales has Grey Thorn been telling you?”
Celestia glanced back and forth between Reaper and Twilight in confusion: “Who is ‘D'hurgmrei?’”
Reaper raised an eyebrow and tipped his head toward Twilight: “Go ahead--tell her. It’ll be interesting to see how much of this is truth and how much is myth.”
Twilight narrowed her eyes, then turned her head toward Celestia: “Long, long ago, there was a cult of ponies who worshiped the Harbinger and made sacrifices to him in an effort to appease him. They called him D’hurgmrei.”
Luna furrowed her brow: “I have never heard of this.”
Reaper shook his head: “No great surprise; this was at least two-thousand years before the two of you came on the scene, and predates written records by centuries. D'hurgmrei literally means ‘Death God’ in a long-vanished precursor to the Ponish language family.”
Celestia frowned: “Actual sacrifices?”
Reaper nodded: “Yes, and now what Twilight and I found in that table of Grey Thorn’s makes a lot more sense. He was emulating scenes from the past.”
Twilight ran her tongue over her teeth: “And they may have been onto something after all, yes?”
Reaper raised an eyebrow: “Meaning?”
“You didn’t stop them, did you?”
“Wasn’t my place.”
Twilight tipped her head up dismissively: “Ah--’not my job.’ Gotcha.”
“That’s right--it wasn’t my job to stop ponies from killing each other, just to clean-up after the fact.”
“Even though they were doing it on your behalf--doing it for you!”
“Right. You know the Harbinger’s job is to deal with death as it is: not judge, not bargain, not--” he leaned forward and locked eyes with Twilight “forestall a suicide.”
Twilight’s nostrils flared.
Reaper paced in front of the defensive, purple alicorn: “I talked to Celestia about Sureshot and Wild Sage. Cosmos help me I even spoke to Discord, and I can’t stand Discord!”
“Tha-that’s different--”
“No, it’s not. The Harbinger takes ‘em as he finds ‘em.”
Twilight’s eyes narrowed: “Not with me or Luna, you didn’t!”
“That was different: Grey Thorn had already interfered and disrupted the normal order of life and death. I had no choice but to get directly involved--it’s literally my job to oversee death!”
“Says who?”
“What?”
“Do you have a witness? Something engraved? A death vision?”
Reaper raised an eyebrow: “I don’t answer to you, Twilight. I was given this--”
Twilight put up a hoof: “Fine--I’ve felt Death’s power come over me, so I’ll stipulate that you were given the role from beyond your ability to perceive it.”
Reaper rolled his eyes: “Gee, how gracious of you.”
“All I’m saying is, what if there’s more to it than you made of it? What if the Death Cultists were right all along--not in their attempt to appease you--but in their belief that you could control and forestall death.”
“But I can’t, and you know--”
Twilight pointed to herself, then to Luna: “I’m literal living proof that you can! Luna, too! I’ve been through it twice !”
Reaper shook his head: “The first time was extraordinary beyond all my reckoning, and stripped me of everything that makes me Death’s Agent. And the second time, I didn’t return you to life, I merely didn’t let you die--and then, just barely!”
Twilight shook her head in return: “Sure, but what if you had begun, long ago, to temper death, to stretch its bounds, to deny it, little by little? Maybe by now, this world wouldn’t know death; maybe we would all share the Princess’ near-immortality!”
Reaper furrowed his brow: “Even if that were remotely possible, why would you want that?”
Twilight gestured at her fellow Princesses: “Why wouldn’t you? Why shouldn’t everypony get to enjoy endless life like them, and maybe even me?”
Celestia took a tentative step forward, keeping a wary eye on the sacrifice circle: “Twilight, my sister and I have higher purposes--our immortality goes along with our responsibilities. Assuming you now share this with us, you too may gain immortality. But it is not a boon.”
Luna dipped her head sadly: “‘Tis true, Twilight. My exile gave me a grim foretaste of the possible bitterness that awaits my sister and me as this world ages over the aeons, and goes cold.”
Reaper nodded: “And make no mistake, Twilight: Entropy will out. Even if you or I or anypony figured out a way to indefinitely extend ponies’ lives and evade Death’s final touch, this world and the very Cosmos itself would slowly erode and decay, trapping countless spirits here in a kind of cold limbo, denying them their final destinies.”
Twilight chewed her lip anxiously: “What destinies? At least here ponies would know what was in store for them. Who knows what awaits the dead? Starswirl didn’t know, I’ve never figured it out, and even you don’t know! That can’t be right! We’re missing something!”
Reaper straightened his shoulders and hardened his eyes: “It’s not for you to know, Princess. It’s not for me to know, and I’m as close as anypony’s going to get to it. My task is to escort the dead on their way. You have your tasks to perform as well; do them to the best of your ability, and serve ponykind for as long as you can. What happens after that is not up to you.”
Twilight ran her tongue over her teeth for several moments and glanced between the three ponies confronting her: “Fine. Then my task is what it’s been since I confronted the Void in the caverns below: rescue Zecora.”
Reaper pursed his lips and shook his head sharply: “We already--”
Twilight tipped her horn up toward the hovering sacrifice circle and sent a pulse of violet magic at it: “You can either help me, or get out of the way.”
The Sisters’ eyes widened and they took a step back. Reaper furrowed his brow: “You can’t do it without our help, rendering this gesture moot.”
Twilight grinned and her eyes glittered; she phased her right foreleg and pushed her bloody, dark-magic-wrapped hoof through the Void’s surface: “Oh, can’t I?”
Reaper frowned: “I know you can phase, but you don’t have the precision--”
Twilight’s right shoulder twitched and the sacrifice circles began to rotate and separate: “I’m manipulating the circles from inside the Void--how’s that for precision? You didn’t think I was just waltzing through Tartarus’ bowels, phasing through walls all this time without testing and stretching my abilities, did you?”
Reaper chewed his lip: “Maybe, but short of committing Grey Thorn’s error and ripping out your own essence, you don’t have the power necessary to--”
Twilight’s eyes went blank, then burned with a bright, silver fire: “There are other sources…”
Reaper stepped in front of the Sisters as Twilight’s horn glowed black. She smiled grimly: “Come on, Reaper--I’m no monster! I’ve learned from Grey Thorn’s mistakes; the Princesses are in no danger.”
She looked behind and beyond the alicorns and sent a beam of magic into the dark-green table, hidden in the shadows. It glowed faintly, and a thin mist rose from its surface.
“There’s plenty of Death energy still trapped in there, and I know how to tap it. I told you I learned from Grey Thorn’s mistakes!”
Reaper furrowed his brow: “Yeah--so you can go on to make a whole bunch of new ones! This is unconscionably dangerous!”
Twilight shrugged: “I know what I’m doing. Now, I repeat: you can help or get out of the way. Well, to be specific, Luna can help.”
Reaper loosened his sword and took a step forward. Twilight rolled her eyes: “Seriously? I’m in contact with the Void which is warded against you. You can’t reap me.”
Reaper swept the blade from its scabbard: “I can try…”
Luna jumped forward and stepped between the two adversaries: “Hold, the both of you!”
Reaper stopped and lowered his blade.
Luna nodded and turned toward Twilight: “Fighting here and now will serve nopony’s interests. I will hear you out--what do you wish of me?”
“I can phase into the Void and act as a conduit for you, as Reaper did.”
“To what end?”
“To let Zecora know I’m opening the Void so she can prepare herself, maybe even help. She might still have some of her powders and potions which might be useful, even if just as a diversion.”
Reaper gritted his teeth: “Right, and when the Void loses its integrity and that entity gets out, then what?”
Twilight blinked slowly: “Don't you see my hoof inside the Void? I have control over the containment field, and I can control the entity, just as Grey Thorn did.”
“Yeah, I remember how well that went, right at the end.”
“He was injured, and the creature was at full strength. It’s tasted my blood and power before, and knows I mastered it once.”
“This is a bad idea.”
Luna nodded: “I agree it is not ideal, but I have trust in two things--Twilight’s ability to plan, even if we have our doubts…”
“And the second?”
She locked eyes pointedly with Twilight: “That Reaper will have our backs if things go badly.”
Reaper shrugged: “Oh, you can count on that one, but if you’re wrong on the first count, I’m not sure how much use I’ll be.”
He turned to a visibly-shaken Celestia: “You’d better be ready to evacuate Canterlot if this all falls apart.”
Twilight bristled: “It won’t!”
Luna closed her eyes and sighed: “You had best be right, Twilight.”
A silvery ribbon emerged from her horn and snaked toward Twilight: “Now, to echo your words, let us do this.”
The five companions shuffled along slowly, picking their way across the spongy, pockmarked, increasingly-noisome, grey-and-orange-streaked Swamp, bending steadily to the left as they made for a distant, low outcropping of metal and rock.
Zecora sniffed the air and gagged: “This must be what Smudge was smelling when we were closing in on the Void down in the caverns!”
Gil glanced back over his shoulder: “What do you smell?”
“It’s like the worst-possible combination of open-pit latrine and rotting corpse!”
“Interesting. I wonder what’s causing that effect? Obviously there’s nothing actually decaying here; I already showed you the sterilizing effect of this place.”
Kla’atra’s eyes flashed pale violet for a moment: “Perhaps it would be as though you should have been in a waking dream, and you might experience what you perceive as vividly as though it may well have been real.”
Zecora furrowed her brow: “That’s rather alarming, to be honest. I recall our trip through the Void’s defensive illusions and hallucinations, and it became dangerously disorienting!”
Gil nodded: “‘Defensive illusions’ is a good way of describing it. For instance, what do you see around us?”
Zecora squinted through the blur caused by the cloak: “It looks like many broken bodies half buried in all these shallow pits. What are they?”
“The afterimages of the spirits that were absorbed here. The majority of ponies who died and were pulled in by the Sentinel ended up here, and left behind just a twisted imprint.”
“Like what we encountered in the tunnel?”
“Less elaborate, less imbued with the sort of fantastical, nightmarish imagery you experienced.”
“So what are these likely to do?”
Bramble furrowed his brow: “Huh. They should really be doing it now...”
Gil paused a moment, then nodded: “Of course--the cloak is obscuring us. The Sentinel hasn’t pick up our scent, as it were, so the spectral denizens of the Swamp aren’t on-guard.”
“‘On-guard?’”
Gil began drifting forward again, and the group slowly made its way across the pockmarked slope: “Something of a fanciful expression. So the surface of the Swamp, at this level, is a kind of hybrid.”
“Of?”
“You recall the orange turf that covers most everywhere else?”
“Yes--I can still see streaks and patches and hints of it here, too.”
“Right, and the Sentinel itself is pitch-black. This turf--well some of it anyway--was transplanted here from the Sentinel’s home world. But some of it is a magical duplicate, created as Grey Thorn was trying to anchor the Sentinel in place.”
Bramble nodded, eyes closed: “He poured a lot of blood--his own not the least--into this area, trying to get the Sentinel to stick.”
Gil paused and pointed to one of the potholes: “So what ended up forming was a kind of scab or callus over the base of the Sentinel--neither fish nor fowl, not really turf, not entirely magical, not really the surface of the Sentinel. It can sense a presence through it, but can’t directly sap a spirit’s essence.”
“So, then, what’s the risk?”
Bramble gestured toward a hole three yards to the group’s left: “Watch.”
He stepped through the cloak and took a few quick steps toward the dark divot, horn glowing as we went. Suddenly a shriveled, twisted unicorn burst forth, face contorted in rage, and dashed forward emitting a high-pitched, otherworldly screech. Bramble crouched defensively as Zecora shuddered, eyes wide. As the shade reached the grey colt it twisted and peeled open, reaching out with its viscera to envelop Bramble, who popped up a shimmering shield at the last moment. The shade ruptured and disintegrated with a scream.
Bramble dropped his shield and stepped briskly back under the cloak. Zecora looked at him then back toward the now-empty hole: “Could that thing have really harmed you? I saw you actually take cover!”
Bramble nodded: “They don’t usually bother me, but I directly approached it on purpose, and the Sentinel will react if I get a little, well, aggressive .”
Zecora furrowed her brow: “Sentinel?”
Gil nodded as the group began slowly working its way up the slope: “Yes--think of these shades as something like an immune system. The Sentinel doesn’t have direct control over this area, so it reaches out through these shades and spectres. They aren’t especially well-controlled, but can damage and drain a spirit.”
Bramble stepped up beside Zecora as the group threaded between two clusters of potholes and fissures: “And the Sentinel uses them to zero-in on anypony unlucky enough to end up here.”
He tipped his head toward Green Streak: “It’s how I knew something had changed. Normally you’d never have escaped the notice of the Sentinel or its ‘antibodies.’”
The pegasus shivered: “Well, I’m glad I did. This is all horrible enough without wondering what would have happened next.”
Kla’atra’s eyes flashed silver as she pointed to the half-buried figures on grey slope beyond the cloak: “Would that you shall have been one of those.”
Green Streak grimaced and fell back slightly, behind Bramble.
After several minutes Zecora squinted through the thickening haze shrouding the Swamp, and spied a low rise some way off. She pointed to it as she glanced at Bramble: “Is that shape up ahead the Waypoint?”
Bramble peered into the gloom: “Yeah, it is. It appears to have changed some since I was last here.”
Gil nodded: “As with everything else, it appears. Clearly the Sentinel has been stressed and weakened over these last few months.”
“I just hope there’s enough left to provide some shelter, even for a just a few minutes.”
Zecora opened her mouth to respond just as a fleeting shape caught her eye. She closed her mouth and strained to determine whether it had just been a trick of the unsteady, fading light.
A dark shadow swept overhead as the party threaded through a maze of pits and half-buried specters, finally stopping before a twisted bit of metal wedged against a shattered stone outcropping. The rock was stained dark reddish-brown, and at its base was slumped an inert, grey figure.
Zecora groaned and held her stomach as she tipped her head toward the figure: “Grey Thorn, again?”
Gil nodded: “Yes. I’m actually a little surprised to still see this one here, so close to the Sentinel--even just as a shade.”
Bramble pressed forward: “This depression is a blind spot--” he furrowed his brow as he looked around, “I just wish it was bigger. I don’t know how much longer you and I can hold this cloak.”
Gil flickered and faded slightly: “Yes--my thought exactly. Well, let's squeeze in here as best as we can and rest for a moment before pressing on for the last leg.”
Zecora tipped her head and looked down at Grey Thorn’s inert shade as the group huddled in the shadow of the rock-and-metal projection: “Does this one react at all?”
Gil smiled sadly: “Not much. I only made it up here a few times over the years before his essence leached away, so I never really got to have much in the way of a heart-to-heart.”
Zecora took a deep, labored breath: “Who was he--I mean, what part of his life does this shade represent?”
“This is the next-to-last piece he stripped away; it’s him as a young stallion, as he’d have been after working with Starswirl for a few years.”
“So this is where it all started…”
Gil nodded and leaned in toward the shade: “Did Starswirl teach you to fear death?”
The pale, almost translucent figure looked up with empty eyes: “No--he taught me to mistrust it.”
Zecora retched up a bit of bile and reached for her water bottle; it was empty. She grimaced: “What did he mean by that?”
Bramble furrowed his brow: “Are you OK?”
“M-my stomach is killing me, and it’s getting harder to breathe. So what did he mean?”
Bramble sighed: “Starswirl mistrusted death as he mistrusted anything he couldn’t understand. He couldn’t divine its true purpose or ultimate mechanisms, and so was suspicious.”
“But even he surrendered to it eventually.”
“Yes, but Grey Thorn thought he could build on it, build on the research he and Starswirl had conducted, build on the ancient rites and spells he’d uncovered, force back the Veil and finally answer the question.”
“Question?”
Gil blinked slowly and turned again to Grey Thorn’s shade: “Where do ponies go when they die?”
“It’s too late.”
“What do you mean?”
“It doesn’t matter, now…”
Zecora’s back legs wobbled as she sat down and rubbed her muzzle: “What?”
Bramble shook his head: “He realized that he was never really going to figure it out, but it was too late by then. He had done too much to ever return to pony society again, and had lost too much of himself to this place to leave its side. He was trapped.”
Zecora pulled out a piece of root and chewed off its end, breathing deeply as she swallowed: “So all of this was for nothing.”
Gil nodded: “Worse than nothing. Starswirl’s studies into death were for nothing, but all it cost him was an extra couple of weary decades. Grey Thorn’s vain attempts left him with this poisoned chalice shackled to his leg, and a trail of destroyed spirits stretching back centuries.”
“And no answer.”
“No. I think in the end he became a nihilist, believing there is no answer, and that extending life at all costs is as close as one can get to an answer.”
Zecora retched again as she shook her head: “I have to believe there’s something beyond this world, that we’re destined to go somewhere after we leave this life!”
Gil smiled wistfully: “Well, none of us here will ever know, but you may yet, assuming we can get you to the top of the Swamp where the Sentinel makes contact with the Vacuum itself.”
“And then?”
Gil shrugged: “If your friends don’t have a way to open the actual containment device, then this will all be for naught--we can’t do it.”
“You don’t know how?”
“Oh, it’s not that--I’m fairly sure that between Bramble, Kla’atra and myself we could work it out, but we don’t have the power. We barely have enough power to keep our essences intact, such as they are.”
Zecora chewed her lip: “I--I don’t know how to help, and I can feel my own strength ebbing away.”
Gil closed his eyes and drifted to the turf, flickering slightly. The cloak began to shimmer and fade as well.
Zecora looked at the faltering shield in alarm, when Luna’s voice suddenly came to her from afar:
Can you hear me, Zecora? Twilight is going to attempt to open the Void. If there is anything you can do to aid us from where you are, please do so! Courage--we will be there shortly!
Zecora reached into her bag and pulled out a vial, popped the stopper and quaffed a mouthful of its contents: “Luna is trying to reach me--she said Twilight is going to open this place! I want to catch Luna before she leaves--I should awaken in a minute or two.”
She slumped to the ground as her eyes slowly closed. Kla’atra glanced from her sleeping face to the darkness gathering above to the faltering cloak: “I shall not have been sure we would have a minute or two…”
Gil nodded nervously as a dark shape emerged unseen from a nearby shallow pit and slipped behind the Waypoint.
Because I Could not Stop for Death
Luna felt herself drawn forward as Twilight phased through the Void, tugging at their astral connection almost hungrily. Luna pulled back against the silver strand and narrowed her eyes, focusing on Twilight’s blurry form as it pushed into the dark beyond.
“A modicum of patience, Twilight! This will all be for naught if Zecora has not yet arrived at the appointed place!”
Twilight grimaced and stopped her forward progress, allowing Luna’s ghostly indigo form to drift next to her: “I know, I know--I’m just anxious to get going. How long do you think it’ll take to connect with Zecora?”
Luna peered into the distorted dark beyond them: “If the past is any guide, no more than two minutes.”
Twilight chewed her lip and glanced around her, sweeping the area with a thin band of dark magic: “Alright, I’ll hold here while you try to reach Zecora. This side of Grey Thorn’s containment device can answer a couple of questions I still have.”
Luna paused and looked back over her shoulder: “Still?”
Twilight smiled: “It’s fine, really. I’m just looking for some confirmation. Hurry back!”
Luna furrowed her brow and pushed on through the boundary zone into the Void’s interior, scanning for Zecora’s mind.
Twilight turned her attention to the distorted, shimmering inner surface of the extra-spatial boundary behind her. She swept a small area with several passes of shifting gold, violet and dark magic, noting the various glyphs and circuits that popped in and out of view.
She glanced back over her shoulder as Luna’s muffled voice filled the air: “Can you hear me, Zecora? Twilight is going to attempt to open the Void. If there is anything you can do to aid us from where you are, please do so! Courage--we will be there shortly! ”
Twilight nodded and returned to her examination of the various figures and symbols hovering in the dim air: “Damn--I was afraid of that…”
She chewed her lip as she waved a hoof, manipulating figures and equations, unaware of the thickening haze surrounding her, shot through with thin, black bands.
Twilight Sparkle, please report to the Principal's office!
Twilight froze and cocked an ear backwards as the hair along her spine rose. She swallowed and took a deep breath: “Is that you, Luna? Are you back?”
She looked over her shoulder and caught a glimpse of a distant, silver flash, before her vision was obscured by a dense, gray gust of fog that swirled around her, tugging and clinging. The cut on her right wrist reopened.
Oh, Reaper! Was it too much?
Her eyes darted back and forth as her horn began to brighten. A violet bubble formed around her: “L-Luna! Time to go! I can’t fight this thing like this, not from here, not with you stuck inside, too!”
She began to choke on a hot, salty sensation rising in the back of her throat. She smelled blood and heard bone and tendons shredding: “LUNA! NOW!”
Luna appeared before her suddenly, brow furrowed with concern: “Twilight--what is it? I managed to reach Zecora for a--”
Her nostrils flared and she shuddered violently as the fog thickened and became acrid with the smell of singed flesh.
I swear on your Goddess, if you violate me…
Twilight and Luna both looked in alarm as a thick black band wrapped itself around the silvery ribbon stretching from Luna’s horn.
Twilight shot bolts of gold and black magic at the tendril, weakening its grasp: “Now, Luna! Get us out of here!”
Luna stared blankly into the space beyond the two alicorns, lip trembling, ears ringing with the mingled sounds of grunting and bare skin slapping.
More black tendrils converged on them, closing in on the silver ribbon. Twilight leaned forward, took Luna’s face between her hooves and locked eyes.
How will you protect yourself from you?
“LUNA! PLEASE!”
Luna blinked away tears and nodded, tipping her head back, tugging at the astral cord. She and Twilight tore through a web of black threads with a mingled burst of violet and bluish-white, and slammed into the boundary.
Celestia licked her lips and paced beside her sister as Reaper stared intently at the flickering silver ribbon emanating from Luna’s horn.
“I’m worried, Reaper! They’ve been in there longer than the times you and Luna went in, yes?”
Reaper shrugged: “Not sure, and I can’t exactly stick my head in to check, since your star pupil decided to go rogue.”
“Yes, that concerns me, too. She’s clearly driven to rescue Zecora no matter the risk!”
Reaper raised an eyebrow: “There’s more to it than that. She’s obsessed with the Void, its creation, its operation, everything.”
Celestia bit her lip: “I knew no good would come of her talking with Grey Thorn! We should have just--”
Luna and Twilight both twitched and jerked as the silvery band connecting them to the Void suddenly pulsed with ripples of black energy. Luna’s body began to sag and drift forward toward the dark sphere.
Reaper’s eyes went wide: “Oh, shit--they’re in trouble!”
Celestia jumped forward and stared at the now-corrupted band, working its way toward Luna’s horn: “But-but what does it mean?”
“That thing in there’s taking over the connection between Luna’s astral form and her body!”
Celestia pawed at the floor and bit her lip: “I-I have to do something!”
Reaper stepped between her and Twilight: “You can’t! If you sever the connection Luna will be lost! Twilight might be able to phase back through, but cutting the cord here would cut Luna loose in there!”
“Can’t you do anything?”
Reaper glared at the black stain, working its way steadily toward Luna’s horn. He drew his sword and turned back toward Twilight.
“Wha-what are you going to do?”
Reaper gritted his teeth: “What I said I’d do if I had to…”
Suddenly Luna’s eyes flew open and she fell to her left with a gasp. Twilight lurched backwards with a blinding violet flash and sat down hard, eyes pressed tightly shut.
Celestia dashed back to Luna’s side and knelt next to her: “Thank the stars! Are you alright?”
Luna struggled to sit up, and blinked heavily as her eyes rolled back down and focused on her sister’s face: “Yes, I-I believe I am fine. How is Twilight?”
Reaper helped Twilight to her hooves: “She looks OK, but that thing was clearly working its way through their connection. What in Tartarus was going on in there?”
Twilight grimaced and took a deep breath: “It, uh, it snuck up on me while Luna was away contacting Zecora. I was distracted…”
She turned to Luna, brow furrowed: “How was it able to get into my dreams like that?”
“It has very well-developed psychic and astral powers. You will recall Shatter and Noble’s descriptions of their encounters in the chasm.”
Twilight nodded and summoned over her saddle bag. She pulled out a flask and took a long drink: “I know but this was taken from me--from my memories and dreams, not images from some long-lost time or place!”
Luna shuddered: “Yes. I have had similar experiences…”
Reaper smiled grimly: “It was even able to plumb my memories. Though I was immune to its effect, it was still quite impressive.”
Twilight sat back down and rubbed her temples: “OK, well I’m gonna have to go back to Plan ‘A’, then.”
Reaper cocked an eyebrow: “‘Plan A?’”
Twilight sighed as she put away her flask: “Yeah, I had hoped to defeat that entity from inside and break its connection to the containment device before opening it--Plan ‘B’--but that’s just not possible.”
Celestia furrowed her brow: “From inside?”
“That would have allayed your fears about opening the Void and exposing our world to that thing.”
“But now?”
Twilight shook her head: “It’s too well-integrated in there, and it has a disorienting ability that would be hard to overcome. I’m going to have to meet it halfway.”
Luna wobbled to her hooves and stretched her wings: “What do you mean by that?”
“When I fought that creature back and sealed the breach in the Void, it had passed beyond the containment vessel and its energy-sapping field. I can open the Void and keep the field intact, allowing me to fight that thing at the threshold of the containment vessel.”
Reaper glared: “So I was right--that thing’s going to get out! This is madness, Twilight! Lift the wards so I can get in there and cleanly reap Zecora. It’s unfortunate but it’ll keep Canterlot safe!”
Twilight licked her lips and shook her head: “Not gonna happen. I can keep the field intact and coax the creature to the surface. It’ll be weakened, and I can defeat it at the boundary.”
Reaper drew his sword and advanced on Twilight.
Celestia’s eyes widened: “Reaper--”
Reaper’s eyes glowed pale red: “No! This has gone beyond the bounds of reason. She’s obsessed with this thing and has to be stopped. I’m sorry.”
Twilight grinned savagely: “Me too. I wanted this to go smoothly, but you’ve forced my hoof.”
Reaper raised his blade: “It’s too late for that now, Twilight.”
Twilight took a half step back: “Yes it is, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.”
Reaper paused: “Stop it?”
Twilight shook her head sadly: “Of all ponies, I never expected you to suffer from Grey Thorn Syndrome.”
“‘Grey Thorn?’ What--”
He furrowed his brow and looked back at the Void; a fresh sacrifice circle had formed above its crown: “Underestimating my opponent…”
He turned back to Twilight as a thin, silvery seam appeared around the top of Void: “That’s because I never thought of you as my opponent, Twilight.”
“I didn’t either, Reaper, until a couple of hours ago.”
Luna looked up at the crown of the Void which was now slowly rotating as the silvery seam widened and brightened: “What have you done?”
Twilight glanced warily away from Reaper’s blade for a moment: “I set the spells in motion before we withdrew from inside the Void. I assumed Reaper would try to stop me, so now he can’t unless you all really do want to see that thing get loose.”
Reaper lowered his blade and stepped back: “This is wrong, Twilight--you’ve taken it too far. You’re tampering with the very forces of life and death! That never ends well!”
Luna bit her lip: “I suspect Grey Thorn would now agree with that assessment.”
Twilight spread her wings and rose into the air: “He failed. I won’t.”
Reaper looked at Luna and shook his head: “That’s what I’m afraid of…”
The seam around the crown of the Void widened further and suddenly shifted to a deep black as Twilight hovered above it, stradling the triple sacrifice circle.
She turned to face Celestia and looked beyond to the table as she lanced her wrists: “You should probably leave this chamber, Princess. I don’t think it’s safe for you to be this close when I start channeling energy and magic.”
Celestia furrowed her brow: “Luna…?”
Luna turned to her sister and nodded: “I concur. This is likely to involve draining life energies, and you are a prime target for that.”
“But what about you?”
“I can mask myself with a measure of dark magic, and should be able to stave off the draining effect for a time.”
She glanced back over her shoulder at Twilight, and raised an eyebrow: “I assume this should take no more than a few minutes, yes?”
Reaper glared at Twilight: “And assuming you’re not directly attacked!”
Twilight rolled her eyes: “I have it under control. I’ll meet it at the boundary; it won’t be able to emerge into this space. Now you really should get back through the entry, Princess--this thing’s opening now!”
Celestia shied and backed away, passing through the chamber’s entrance as the Void’s crown lifted away in a burst of black and gold light and a spray of blood.
Twilight spread her wings and forelegs wide as the sacrifice circles contracted and descended into the Void, twisting and rippling as they went. Bands of black snaked free from the table and wound around Twilight’s hooves.
The now-open top of the Void distorted and appeared to expand and stretch as Twilight sank slowly into the swirling light and dark and fog and ribbons of magic and Death’s energy.
Luna squinted and threw up a magic shield as she felt the Void began to drag her forward. Reaper phased and rose into the air, glancing worriedly from the table to Twilight to the Void.
Twilight tucked her wings slightly as she passed inside the outer shell of the containment device and swirled her right hoof, manipulating the second and third sacrifice circles as the first peeled away and lodged inside the rim of the opening like a gasket. Dark bands continued to flow over the lip of the Void, down to Twilight’s hooves.
The fog parted as Twilight produced a magical pressure wave from her horn. She peered down through the distorted space toward the summit of the Swamp and watched as the Sentinel readied its final blow on Zecora, Gil, Bramble and Green Streak.
Twilight’s eyes went blank with silver-white fire as blinding beams of magic struck like violet solar flares, driving back the Sentinel’s tendrils.
Twilight intensified the pressure wave, bathing the top of the Swamp in a golden haze, and tapped her throat with a magical boost: “I’m here, Zecora!”
Gil squinted up at Twilight then looked down at Zecora’s unconscious body: “Dammit! That has to be Zecora’s friend! She really did it, and now Zecora’s knocked-out again!”
Bramble glanced down at the twitching zebra as Green Streak hovered nearby; the colt chewed his lip: “And Kla’atra was destroyed! How are we supposed to get her back, now?”
Green Streak shot upward: “Twilight can help!”
Gil’s eyes went wide as he watched the pegasus accelerate away: “No, don’t! You’ll get too close to the Vacuum if you try to get up there!”
Bramble knelt beside Zecora: “I know you can’t hear me, but you have to wake up, Zecora! We have to get moving--it’s not safe here!”
Suddenly Zecora stirred and her eyes fluttered open. She sat up, coughed weakly, and rubbed the back of a hoof across her eyes.
Bramble rose to his hooves as Gil looked down in surprise: “Well, that’s a stroke of luck! I’m glad to see you awake so quickly, Zecora. I’m sorry to say, but Kla’atra was destroyed protecting you, and I was afraid we wouldn’t be able to rouse you in time!”
Zecora looked up with furrowed brow and pointed to the sky.
Bramble looked up as well: “Yeah, it appears your friend figured out how to break the seals and open the Vacuum.”
Gil nodded, then shrugged: “Of course, that was the easy part; I don’t know what she plans to do about the Sentinel…”
Twilight furrowed her brow and focused on a pair of dark shapes slashing toward her, stretching and twisting, defying her attempts to hone in on them. She summoned a ribbon of Death’s energy from over her left shoulder and snaked it down her leg to her bloody hoof. The third sacrifice circle flared and a shield formed, just turning aside the Sentinel’s thrust.
Twilight smiled: “Yeah, I have your attention now, don’t I?”
A third tendril swept toward her as a host of black ribbons and bands coalesced around her, obscuring her vision. She bit her lip, flared her wings and swept an arc of brilliant gold magic left and right, clearing a path back toward the opening atop the Void.
She let her right foreleg hang down, causing blood to drip as she quickly rose higher: “Let’s take this outside, shall we?”
Twilight entered the opening and stopped just as the first sacrifice circle girdled her waist. A nimbus of black and violet clouds formed around her, absorbing the Sentinel’s bands and tendrils. She bit her lip and lifted her blood-smeared hooves high, entangling both her own inky ribbons and the Sentinel’s.
“Come on! Come to me! I mastered you once, I’ll do it again!”
The Sentinel let out a shriek and enveloped the third sacrifice circle using two of its heavy, ropy branches. The sky was filled with a sudden burst of gold light and the sound of thunder. Twilight was thrown back against the edge of the containment device in a spray of sparks.
She lurched forward in agony, smoke rising from her back, foam flecking her lips, and poured down a torrent of violet magic with an enraged scream: “Don’t even think about it! This is where you and I are doing this--not outside, not down there! Here! And now!”
Gil looked up at the swirling bands of darkness, the nimbus, the shafts of blinding golden light, the Sentinel’s stabbing and thrashing, then turned back to Zecora and Bramble: “We have to move! If she actually drives back the Sentinel or destroys it or whatever she has planned, this whole area is going to be torn to shreds and thrown up against the Vacuum!”
Zecora began shakily reapplying a coating of blue powder as Bramble stepped forward and looked up at the confusion above: “What about Green Streak? Did you see what happened to her?”
Gil began moving quickly up the slope generating a weak shield as he went: “No, and it doesn’t matter now. If she got too close to the Vacuum she’s gone. If not, she’s likely mixed-up in that catastrophe up there.”
Zecora stumbled after Gil, panting, tongue hanging out. Bramble slipped in front of her, generated a weak shield of his own, and looked back over his shoulder: “How are you doing, Zecora? Hopefully we can get close enough for you to catch your friend’s attention! Just hang in a little longer!”
Zecora nodded and smiled, put her head down and worked her way between several potholes, eyes locked on Gil’s flickering form ahead. She shied away as the holes began to disgorge shades that rushed headlong upward to join the confusion and cataclysm above.
The three worked their way closer to the now-visible base of the Sentinel as pieces of fibrous material and orange turf fell around them. Gil stopped suddenly and pointed at a fissure in ground: “The Sentinel’s starting to tear away from the Swamp!”
They all looked up as the air reverberated with thunder, and saw the flash of the collapsing sacrifice circle.
...here and now!
Bramble shielded his eyes and squinted into the haze: “Is she actually trying to get it outside the Vacuum? Is she crazy?”
Gil shook his head: “I can’t tell. Those sacrifice circles are very different from the ones I recall--far more complex and dark. I think--”
He suddenly snapped his head to his right, toward the rent turf: “Squish is back!”
Bramble froze as the creature worked its way quickly toward the three companions. Bramble tipped his head sideways enough to make contact with Zecora out of the corner of his eye: “Do you have more of that blue powder?”
Zecora pulled the stopper on the vial and shrugged sadly, tipping the empty container downward.
“Damn. I don’t know what to do about Squish, now, and we can’t let it divert us.”
Gil turned back and furrowed his brow: “It’s stopped. What does it want?”
Squish moved in front of Bramble and turned away, facing the base of the Sentinel. It began moving slowly away, stopping after a few yards and rotating back to face the three ponies.
Zecora took a tentative step forward.
Gil raised an eyebrow: “Do you think it wants us to follow it?”
Zecora looked back over her shoulder and nodded, dripping fresh blood from her nose in the process. She turned back and walked after Squish.
Gil chewed his lip for a moment as the zebra moved away. He stared intently at her for another moment, then drifted after her, overtaking her after a few yards.
He floated next to her, extending his pale, flicking shield in front of them both: “How are you feeling? Are you unable to speak again?”
Zecora nodded and tapped her throat with a trembling hoof.
“I see. Well, hopefully it will pass shortly.”
He closed his eyes for a moment, and Bramble stopped short and raised an eyebrow. He bit his lip and nodded curtly. Gil began to move again, following Squish toward the base of the Sentinel as Bramble and Zecora fell in-line.
Twilight cleared her head and hastily regenerated the third ring of the sacrifice circle as the Sentinel fell back briefly, reforming its own nimbus, throwing out fresh tendrils, probing for weakness, glancing off the Vacuum, tugging at its base, seeking a better angle, pushing waves of psionic energy at its disoriented opponent.
“Twilight Sparkle, please report to the Principal’s office!”
Twilight closed her eyes in an attempt to block out the black wave pouring through a door. She gritted her teeth: “Dammit--stop that!”
She unleashed a blast of twinned violet-and-gold magic at the Sentinel that broke the connection, and she strengthened her connection to the black ribbons pouring over her shoulders, mingling with her blood, swelling the nimbus that surrounded her like an angry thunderhead.
As she swept forward, bolts of energy streaking from her horn, the Sentinel jerked suddenly to one side and threw out a spray of tendrils to her right, missing her wide.
“Nice try, but you’re getting sloppy! You’re getting weak--I can feel it!”
She drove forward forcing the Sentinel back as it wove a barrier to prevent further damage. Then its apparently-errant tendrils drifted free behind Twilight and settled on their counterparts stretching from her shoulders back out of the Void.
Twilight froze mid-attack, eyes wide, and pivoted to her right in a bid to disentangle herself from her own tendrils. It was too late; the Sentinel’s inky, pulsing bands merged with her own and reached hungrily for both her bleeding wrists and the space beyond the final sacrifice circle that held the suppression field intact. It surged forward, extending two branches toward Twilight as it thrust its other pair downward toward the fleeing ponies now approaching its base.
Gil glanced up at the tumult above as the three ponies hurried across the heaving, tearing surface, following Squish toward a small rise at the now-loosened base of the Sentinel. He glanced to his right and noted Zecora sweating and straining to keep her eyes open and focused.
Suddenly as pair of dark shadows shot down from above as a ripple coursed through the turf. Zecora caught a hoof and stumbled as Gil swept in front of her, blocking her with the final surge of his shield. She dived forward as the shadow swept by with a shriek, and passed through the final shimmering traces of Gil’s shade as he flickered out of existence.
Luna stiffened her shield and pushed her magic to a darker tone as the nimbus and tendrils and sparks rose and fell at the top of the Void. Reaper hovered near the opening like a phantom, squinting into the flickering, twisting haze.
“Can you make anything out, Reaper?”
“Not really--her damn wards make it nearly impossible to see anything beyond the energy field.”
Luna glanced over her shoulder at the table: “She does seem to be drawing rather heavily off Death’s energy.”
Reaper nodded: “She’s pouring a huge amount of energy into that upper circle. I can only assume the same thing is happening--”
Suddenly a surge of mingled magic and psionic energy poured out of the Void as a new nimbus began to form around its base. Reaper fell back and looked at the table in alarm: “That’s not Twilight! Those bands belong to the Void!”
Luna’s eyes went wide: “How-how is that possible?”
Reaper drew his blade and dropped to the floor next to Luna: “It hijacked her conduit!”
“What does that mean? Is she still alive and in control of herself?”
“I don’t know. All I know is we’d better be ready.”
Luna nodded grimly and looked over her shoulder. She fired a bolt of dark magic at the chamber entrance, sealing it.
“I am sorry sister. I hope we will see each other again…”
Celestia pounded on the door in vain.
Zecora sat up in the gloom and rubbed her eyes, adjusting enough to eventually make out the dim outlines of the interior of her hut, lit by a dim, silvery spark somewhere across the dark space.
“How can I be back in this place / Why am I not in empty space?”
The sound of a latch caught her attention and she turned as the door opened.
Gil stepped through with a sad smile: “And now we come to the bitter end / I must account for my wayward friend.”
Because I Could not Stop for Death
Zecora’s limp body crashed to the charcoal-and-orange turf and lay twitching as blood seeped from her nose and ears. Bramble knelt next to her and kept a weak shield hovering above them both in an attempt to fend off the Sentinel.
“Damnit, Gil! I know you gave it your all, but couldn’t you have held out for just another couple of minutes?"
He looked up toward the flickering, twisting maelstrom of black and gold and violet above and squinted, trying to make out details. He caught a glimpse of something green, tossed around like a storm-blown leaf.
“Green Streak! If you’re still conscious, get down here! I need all the help I can get!”
The pegasus fanned out her wings and regained her balance, peering down through the distorted, shimmering air toward the two small figures huddled next to a growing rift at the base of the Sentinel.
She glared up at the battle just beyond her reach, tucked in her wings and shot toward the ground, flaring to a sudden stop next to Zecora’s head.
She furrowed her brow and pointed to the blood, which was now also dripping from the Zebra’s hindquarters: “What’s going on? Where’s Gil?”
“She’s dying, and Gil’s last trace was destroyed protecting her. We have to get her out of this spot before everything comes crashing down!”
“How in Tartarus are we supposed to do that when we can’t touch her? Do you have enough power left to levitate her, or whatever it is you unicorns do?”
Bramble looked up at the maelstrom above them and glared: “No, through Celestia knows there’s more than enough being wasted up there!”
Green Streak chewed her lip for a moment, then her eyes went wide: “Hold on--I have an idea!”
She shot off into the air, making again for the heart of the battle, weaving in and out of knots of black bands and showers of violet sparks, zeroing-in on Twilight, squinting through the haze, heedless of the drain of the encroaching Vacuum.
She cut in front of one of the Sentinel’s lashing branches at the last moment as a gap opened, risking entanglement, and screamed: “Help me!!”
Twilight’s head snapped around, and Green Streak saw her eyes for a split second: “I hope that’s enough--gotta go!”
She tucked her wings in and dove hard toward the rippling orange turf, tendrils hard on her tail, making directly for Bramble’s shocked, upturned face.
Moments before impact, the pegasus fanned her wings and rolled over on her back, facing upward in time to see dual streams of violet and gold magic streaking downward, scorching the Sentinel, severing tendrils, and bathing the surface in blinding radiance.
“Are you crazy?!”
Green Streak grinned savagely: “No, suicidal--there’s a difference!”
Bramble spread out over Zecora and pushed his feeble shield to its maximum as Twilight’s power coursed over him in searing waves, tearing at him, threatening to evaporate the remnants of his tattered spirit.
He screamed in agony and ecstasy as his essence was suffused with raw power. His eyes glowed white, and he rose to his hooves, reestablished his shield, and levitated Zecora’s limp body.
He looked over his shoulder as he trotted toward the summit of the Swamp: “Stay low and follow me! I don’t know how this is all going to end, but it’s going to end soon, one way or another!”
He skirted another chunk of falling, glittering debris, and caught Squish’s scurrying form out of the corner of his eye. He paused a moment as the creature slid in front of him and took the lead again.
Bramble bit his lip, then resumed following: “I don’t have you figured out, yet, but you seem to know where you’re going, so…”
Twilight slashed at the mingled bands of darkness, withering both her own tendrils as well as the Sentinel’s, pushing back the now-combined nimbuses, desperately trying to force her way back to the top of the Void.
She had nearly fought her way free when a muffled cry came to her mind.
Help me!!
She snapped her head back over her shoulder and saw a glint of pale green, falling away, pursued by a host of tendrils. She felt the web surrounding her slacken for a moment, and poured down a twin bolt of violet and gold magic, aiming for the point at which the Sentinel would contact the plummeting green figure below.
The gashes on her wrists suddenly widened, and she cried out in pain and anger: “No! No more!”
Twilight fanned her wings, clenched her teeth, and pulled the web of fibers and ribbons and tendrils tight to her blood-smeared chest as she rose the last few yards separating the now-blazing first sacrifice circle from the upper rim of the Void.
She spread her hind legs, locking them into position against the final, outer boundary between the Vacuum and the outside world. Her eyes went blank as gold-and-violet fire built around her, tearing through the nimbus, flooding both the Void and the creation chamber with a flickering, ethereal light.
Twilight heaved with every fiber of her being, pulling at the tendrils, willing the Sentinel to her, hauling against its roots and tethers, lashing out with raw power and blood and rage in an effort to sever the entity from the device, to unmake the heart of the Void. The second sacrifice circle glowed like red-hot, molten gold.
Suddenly she was jerked backwards as she felt the immense tension beneath her give way for a moment. She heard a tearing, facturing sound and felt a rush of Death’s energy course through her.
She smiled, teeth bared, eyes glinting gold and black: “Got you now, you son of a--”
The sudden, disorienting agony shattered her mind as her left wing ripped away, twisting her backwards over the lip of the containment device, dragging her, twitching and thrashing halfway back into the outer world.
She flopped over at the last moment, preventing her spine from snapping, and looked in confusion at the shredded remnants of her wing, caught in a river of blackness streaming to and from the table in the distance.
Twilight’s head whipped back and forth as her eyes darted from the nimbus-swathed table to her blood-drenched hooves to the edge of the Void to the roiling mass of black and red and gold within. A heavy, soot-black, root-like shape emerged.
“Oh, no…”
Oh, Reaper, was it too much?
Luna watched in horror as Twilight was dragged backwards over the rim of Grey Thorn’s containment device in a shower of violet and gold sparks. She redoubled her shield and tried to move forward toward the Void to help, when Twilight’s wing was suddenly wrenched loose and tore free in a spray of blood and bone and feathers, which was immediately consumed by the pulsing black stream now flowing between the table and the Void.
Luna lurched sideways and dropped to her knees as a wave of dark magic swept through the chamber. She pushed off the floor and squinted at Twilight, who was now lashing out at the tendrils surrounding her with her hooves, teeth bared, eyes burning with ultraviolet fire.
Reaper swept forward and threw up a bright blue shield in front of Luna: “Back up Princess! I don’t think there’s anything you can do, and that damn thing’s coming out! It’ll consume you instantly if it touches you!”
Luna stepped back a yard and set her hooves again: “Is there nothing we can do?”
She glanced over her shoulder: “Can we break the connection to the table?”
Twilight blasted the Sentinel’s branch, now less than a yard from her face: “No! Don’t get near it! I need that power!”
Reaper phased and dodged multiple tendrils: “Twilight! We have to end this! You have to get this thing back into the Void!”
A stream of glyphs appeared before Twilight’s quivering, foam-flecked lips, re-forming the third sacrifice circle as the blood spurting from below her shoulder blade joined that flowing from her wrists: “J-just keep Lu-Luna safe! I have this!”
Her eyes darted back and forth between the emerging Sentinel, the table, and Reaper who was slowly advancing on her, sword hovering off his right shoulder. She furrowed her brow, closed her eyes and spread her trembling forelegs.
Reaper’s eyes went wide as the Sentinel drove forward into Twilight’s chest, smothering her in a wave of inky, writhing tendrils and smoke.
He bolted forward, sword sweeping before him in a crimson arc: “I’m sorry, Twilight! I have to stop this! You’ll be lost!”
He phased out almost completely and jumped up beside the warped, twisted storm of violet and charcoal and black and gold. He readied his blade, and swept out an opening with a thrust of his broad, blue shield--then froze as Twilight threw a rune of warding in his face.
A black-and-purple tendril darted out of the mass and seized Reaper’s sword as he blinked heavily and fell back: “S-sorry, again--I n-need this one last time…”
The second and third sacrifice circles reformed around Twilight and the Sentinel, and dragged them swiftly and relentlessly back through the mouth of the Void.
Her horn flared brilliant gold as she cleared the inner rim, and a web of equations and diagrams and glyphs sprang into being, glittering in the air like constellations.
The Sentinel pulled in its tendrils and compressed itself into a dense column, its billowing nimbus re-materializing and swirling like a cyclone. It brought three of its branches forward as it released a massive pulse of psionic power.
Twilight felt the air charge around her, and threw up a shield as she maneuvered toward the top of the Sentinel, seeking the point in space where it made contact with the inner boundary of the Vacuum. All the glittering glyphs and diagrams and equations suddenly coalesced at one point, which pulsed faintly, just beyond her ability to focus.
She closed her eyes and shot forward behind a wedge of golden magic, blood trailing behind her, hovering like red raindrops in the fractured, murky air.
“I-I have you n-now! You can’t f-fool my eyes anymore! I feel it now!”
The Sentinel wrapped itself around the purple invader, seeking to crush Twilight’s shield as Reaper’s blade darted forward, slashing at the attachment point. The Sentinel screeched and the light inside the Void died, save for a bright golden glow rising like steam from the Sentinel’s surface. The light began to form shapes.
Twilight Sparkle, please report to the Principal’s office!
“Not this time! I know this trick!”
Twilight opened her eyes as a broad, dimly-lit staircase materialized before her. She furrowed her brow, dashed up the stairs and kicked the heavy, ornate door open.
Reaper turned to face her, standing in front of a glowing fireplace. Before he could open his mouth to speak, Twilight darted forward and drove her (his?) sword through his chest. He staggered forward, eyes wide, and pressed his bloody mouth to hers.
Twilight grabbed his face and pulled him away: “No! My turn!”
She turned on her heel and threw Reaper’s bleeding body on the nearby bed as her body shifted from Kurlin back to pony, jumping after him, driving the blade through his hip. She fell on him hungrily and crushed her mouth to his , sucking and breathing, feeling his chest collapse, hearing his breath falter, tasting his blood.
She stopped, sensing someone behind her. She turned her head and spat out Reaper’s blood just as Grey Thorn dived at her, horn leveled.
She parried his horn with her blade and rolled off the bed onto the cold, dusty stone floor, nearly stumbling over Luna’s twisted, oozing corpse.
“You, too, huh?”
Grey Thorn shook his head and pointed behind Twilight at a new bed: “No, her.”
Twilight spun and felt the pit of her stomach drop out.
Moondancer lay there, spread out, eyes half-lidded, tracing her folds and teats delicately with the edge of a hoof while patting the quilt on which she was laying: “Come back to bed, lovermare! I’ll be dead in the blink of your eye, and I want to spend every minute I have left tasting you!”
Twilight shuddered and leveled her trembling blade at Moondancer: “Y-you’re not real. None of this is real!”
Reaper stood up, a stallion again, and moved next to Grey Thorn, who now appeared to be Kurlin, with close-cropped gray hair and light-brown skin.
Reaper smiled and nodded: “You’re right--you’re the only real thing here, Twilight. But we’re with you nevertheless. You’ll never be rid of us unless you surrender your power.”
Grey Thorn crossed his arms: “This power is not for you. You will never be free as long as you have it.”
A cold, feminine voice came from the shadows: “And it must be wrested from you. You will never surrender it willingly--I know from experience.”
The darkness began to close in around Twilight as Reaper, Grey Thorn, Nightmare Moon and Moondancer advanced, horns blazing. Zecora lay before the now-sputtering, smoking fireplace, struggling for breath.
Twilight turned around, eyes flickering from figure to figure--from Reaper with a shining horn driven through his breast, to Nightmare Moon, battered, cut, blood running down the insides of her legs, to Moondancer, a sunken, ancient, desiccated corpse, to Grey Thorn, his chest ripped open.
They collapsed toward Twilight all at once as her eyes flared with violet flames and bloody, black tendrils shot out from her, entangling her assailants, twisting and crushing them, pulling them into her embrace.
I’m afraid.
Twilight threw back her head and screamed in anguish and lust and pain and terror as the blackness swirled into her, and the Sentinel howled and the roof of the world tore free. Death’s Token flared with crimson flames as it sheared through the Sentinel’s final connection point and Twilight’s left foreleg.
Oh, Reaper! Was it too much?
I don’t know. Maybe.
Tears streamed from her sightless eyes. Blood coursed down her legs and back: “No...”
Twilight heaved and pulled, dragging the twisting, splintering, crippled Sentinel with her, rising back through the now white-hot sacrifice circles, her hide blistering from their intensity.
The peak of the Swamp below shredded, crumbled and fell upward toward the Vacuum in the Sentinel’s wake as four small, glowing figures tumbled through the wrack.
Zecora stood and shook her head: “I do not understand you, Gil / I fear I am now deathly ill!”
Gil walked slowly through the hut, examining baskets and jars, poking and moving items: “While it is true that you are sick / your presence here is due to a trick.”
Zecora furrowed her brow: “The last I recall / is Kla’atra’s fall. / How can you be here now in her stead / unless this implies I’m also dead!”
Gil tipped his head sideways and slowly approached a faintly-glimmering jar: “You are not dead yet, this is true / I saw the signs and then I knew…”
“Signs?”
Gil sent a pulse of magic at the jar, shattering it as the glittering scale beneath fell to the floor. Zecora raised an eyebrow and bent down to investigate.
“This is my home and I do not recall / an item like this being here at all!”
Gil sighed: “My oldest friend has stowed away / why this is so I cannot say.”
The scale suddenly trembled and expanded in a silvery flash. Kla’atra stood tall on her hind legs and took a step forward, eyes alternating between pale green and white.
Zecora shied away in response and looked back and forth nervously between the alien and Gil: “Again I do not understand / The Sentinel slew her with its black band!”
Gil shook his head sadly: “She used the attack to cover her scheme / revealed through silence and silvery gleam.”
Zecora turned to Kla’atra: “Why would you do this, what could you gain? / Surely your life force must also wane!”
The hut shook violently and the roof began to separate, revealing the white emptiness beyond, which now glittered with gold and violet and black sparks. Zecora stumbled sideways and sank to the floor.
Kla’atra’s mandibles worked and chewed for a moment as her eyes flashed pale blue: “The ending would now have come to this place / and should then also all spirits erase!”
Gil nodded and braced himself as the roof began to break away, exposing a swirling vortex of dark grey and pale violet far above. He looked up and bit his lip.
I-I have you n-now!
He squinted at the growing brightness and looked back at Zecora and Kla’atra: “It’s true that the end of all things has come / We all must fight lest Zecora succumb!”
Kla’atra pointed around her at the shuddering, warping hut: “We shall then have all stayed within this pony shell / It could perhaps to have lifted us from this hell!”
Gil furrowed his brow, gestured at the crumbling hut, then pointed at Zecora, now panting and struggling to stand: “Her body and essence can no longer take / moments from now her spirit will break!”
A section of the roof peeled away, and the door wrenched free from its hinges. Gil glanced up as beams of pale violet and gold magic broke through the haze and fell across his back and head. His horn began to glow. He smiled grimly and closed his eyes for a moment.
No.
Kla’atra’s eyes flashed silver as she looked up at the vortex above in response to Twilight’s voice. Suddenly a pale magenta ring formed around Kla’atra. Her head snapped to her right as Gil pulled hard against the restraint binding his horn to Kla’atra. He turned and dashed through the doorway, hauling the shocked alien with him into the blank expanse beyond.
Zecora lurched to her hooves and stumbled to the splintering doorframe, now blocked by a shimmering, translucent barrier.
Kla’atra slashed at the restraint and directed a blast of psionic energy at Gil’s head. It was blocked by a shield that formed around the unicorn. A second trapped Kla’atra a moment later in her own glowing bubble.
She lashed out at the bubble, and fired a silvery beam at the restraint that still held her fast: “No! I shall not have perished here! This were not to have been my home reality! I might not end my days here! Please!”
Gil gritted his teeth and fought both Kla’atra and the pull of the vortex: “You’ll kill her if you stay within her any longer, Kla’atra!”
“Perhaps she would to be killed, but all three of us then might have passed beyond the Vacuum and have a chance for our spirits to leaving this plane!”
Gil shook his head sadly: “It’s all-but-certain that all that would happen as we traverse the boundary, is that the Vacuum will take its final toll, erasing all three of us. Alone, in her living body, at least she has a chance!”
“Please. This cannot to have been my ultimate fate. This were never my reality…”
Tears welled in Gil’s eyes as he drew the two bubbles together. Zecora craned her neck to look up at the vortex now filling the space directly above her hut and the two figures outside.
She lost sight as Gil’s control of the now-merged shield weakened, and it was pulled inexorably toward the unearthly swirl of grey and violet. He held open his forelegs and pulled Kla’atra close.
Her wings fluttered briefly then went still as her eyes faded to a pale green, nearly matching her body: “I’m afraid…”
Tears ran down Gil’s face, and he squeezed his eyes shut as the bubble failed: “I know you don’t have tears, so I’ll cry for both of us.”
Kla’atra emitted a low humming noise as Gil pulled her tight: “Let’s go into oblivion together, old friend…”
Zecora choked back a sob as she saw a faint flash of silver in the distance. She curled up on the floor of her crumbling hut and closed her eyes.
Bramble trotted briskly behind Squish, casting an upward glance at the wrack and battle from time to time, balancing Zecora and his shield. Green Streak swooped down beside him and took shelter beneath the golden glow pulsing from the colt’s horn.
“How much further? Where are we going?”
“I doubt much longer--the summit of the Swamp seems to be coming apart, which means one way or another we’re all about to get a lot closer to the exit, ready or not.”
He dodged a rift in the turf and ducked a tendril, pressing close behind Squish’s scuttling form: “As for where, I don’t know. I’ve never approached the Sentinel this close before. I always assumed it would largely avoid me, but I never wanted to get close enough to test that.”
“What if it doesn’t? Can you fight it?”
Bramble let out a short, harsh laugh: “Hardly! If that thing has finally decided to end me, there’s not much I can do about it.”
“Like Squish and Grey Thorn’s shades…”
Bramble winced: “Don’t remind me.”
“So it could be leading you into a trap.”
Bramble shrugged: “Don’t really see the point. If the Sentinel wants me--”
He stopped suddenly. Squish was directly in front of them turning from side to side as the orange turf began to lift away. A dark gray root emerged and slashed wildly.
No.
Everything heaved and lurched up. The very space around the ponies warped and shrank, then snapped back. The Sentinel groped for purchase and reached toward Bramble, who had dropped to his knees in an attempt to keep Zecora safe. Squish moved directly in front of the unicorn and raised up on two of its limbs as if to smother him.
Bramble grimaced: “I guess I’d rather you take me, Squish, than your kin, if Zecora’s right. Fly, Green Streak! Avoid the collapse or it’ll pull you up into the Vacuum!”
He gritted his teeth and isolated his shield around Zecora and Green Streak: “This’ll buy you a few seconds. I’m sorry I couldn’t do more…”
The Sentinel's root struck, spreading fibers and tendrils, slicing through the air with a hiss. They stopped short as Squish spread itself wide, absorbing, deflecting and blocking the thrust.
Bramble furrowed his brow: “What…?”
Squish twisted sideways, severing the fibers, forcing back the root tips just as the air was rent by a deafening peal of thunder and a high-pitched shriek. The sky exploded with violet and gold and crimson fire, and the three ponies and Squish were thrown free of the Swamp, tumbling upward toward a ring of blazing glyphs.
Bramble squinted through the glare, and latched onto Green Streak, Zecora and Squish, using his magic to shield them from the worst of the buffeting, attempting to steer them away from the flailing Sentinel.
Where do we go when we die, Gil?
Reaper staggered back, waving a hoof before his eyes, trying to reorient himself: “Damnit! The bitch took it again!”
Luna sidestepped a tendril that was writhing on the floor near the main band connecting the table to the Void. She redoubled her shield and moved closer to Reaper: “How did she do that? Why did she do that?”
“There are already wards on the Void that make it disorienting for me as it is. It was pretty straightforward for her to surprise me with another one of Starswirl’s damned, defensive glyphs.”
“But why?”
“Same reason she needed it for the table: it’s a key, a catalyst. I assume she’s using it to channel and focus Death’s energy--one of the few things that can likely affect that entity in there.”
Luna squinted up at the crown of the Void, now wreathed in a blinding gold-and-violet halo of magic and heat shimmer. Crimson and black streaks forked through the haze like dark, bloody lightning.
Reaper stood stock-still, staring at the bolts and bands of energy. Luna stepped up beside him and glanced back and forth between the table and the Void: “I sense the pull against me has lessened, though it is clear the dark connection is still strong.”
Reaper nodded: “It’s all happening down in there now, past that circle, which prevents me from sensing anything in detail. We’re just going to have to--”
He was cut short and phased in the nick of time as a blast of mingled psionic and magical power ripped through the chamber, followed an instant later by Twilight’s battered form, entangled with two splitting, writhing branches of the Sentinel.
Luna was caught off-guard and thrown back to the chamber’s front wall. She dropped to the floor, senseless.
Reaper’s head snapped back to follow her path: “Shit!”
He phased-in next to her crumpled form and wrapped her in a bright blue shield as he looked back over his shoulder at the battle unfolding across the chamber.
Twilight hit the ground, slashing with Reaper’s blade, blasting at tendrils with magic from across the spectrum, screaming power words, eyes burning white-hot with rage. She threw out hooked tethers, sinking them deep in the Sentinel’s dark-gray hide, and pulled back, extracting another ten yards of its squirming, scarred body onto the floor.
Reaper’s eyes went wide as he saw a swarm of tendrils from Twilight, the Sentinel and, now the table begin to materialize, accompanied by waves of psionic power. He stepped back and stood directly over Luna.
“What are you thinking, Twilight?! How could you bring that thing out here?”
Twilight bared her teeth and sunk her horn into a branch, blasting it apart as it ripped across the side of her face, tearing away her left eye. She howled in fury and agony: “I-I h-have this! It-it’s almost d-dead!”
Reaper glared back: “As are you! And most likely Zecora by now! What was the point, again? Drop your wards so I can clean up this mess!”
Twilight formed two more tethers as the first sacrifice circle now crested the rim of the containment device, pulling along another three yards of the Sentinel. The circle pierced its body like a saw blade, spraying the chamber with dark-teal ichor.
As the fluid splattered the chamber’s front wall, it left translucent splashes and streaks, creating window-like blotches, like lightly-frosted glass. Reaper glanced back and saw Celestia pressed up against one of the larger patches. He looked back down at his hooves and saw Luna’s eyelids flutter for a moment, then close again.
His attention was taken by another blast of raw power from the Void. He turned and stared, slack-jawed.
Twilight rose from the blood-and-ichor-smeared ground on a black-and-violet nimbus, sword glowing red like molten iron, eyes blazing gold, a swirl of glyphs and runes crowning her pulsing horn.
“GET...OUT...OF...THERE!!”
She hurled herself backward toward the table, tearing the final length of the Sentinel free. It flopped over the rim of the containment device with a screech, trailing clots of orange turf and a glowing, golden figure.
The three ponies and Squish hurled upward, pelted by chunks of turf and rock and shredded pieces of the Sentinel, which left black, smoking welts on the surface of Bramble’s shield.
He glanced to his right and saw Squish disengage from the now-severed root fibers. He tipped his head down and saw Green Streak tumbling beneath him: “I’m going to try to cocoon Zecora and let her go up with what’s left of the Sentinel!”
The pegasus squinted up at the blinding, incomprehensible maelstrom above them: “Th-then what?”
Bramble blinked back tears as Zecora’s body, now sheathed in a brilliant, golden shroud, broke free from his control and was sucked up into the vortex.
“I don’t know! I’ve done all I can! I’m going to use what power I have left to pull us back, and hope this all ends in a few more seconds when the last of the Sentinel clears the Vacuum!”
Green Streak angled her wings and drifted close to Bramble, squeezing her eyes tight against the madness now surrounding her: “I-I’m afraid!”
“So am I…”
The sky burst open then collapsed as the second and third sacrifice circles shattered.
Where do we go when we die, Gil?
“Shit!”
Reaper moved forward a few steps then stopped, noting that Luna was still unconscious. He chewed his lip as he watched the golden figure on the floor next to the Void fade and resolve into a black-and-white-striped pony, coated in ichor, oozing blood from multiple wounds and orifices.
“Zecora’s out!!”
Twilight’s head snapped down, and she sent a pulse of magic to the floor, pushing the unconscious zebra aside, clear of the bulk of the Sentinel. The pause was all the Sentinel needed to throw out a last wave of tendrils, stimulating both the table and Twilight. Multiple black ribbons snaked through the air and across the floor, converging on Luna and Zecora.
Reaper’s eyes darted back and forth between the two prostrate figures as Luna’s eyes half-opened: “Luna! Wake up, damnit! Shield yourself!”
He dashed across the floor, dodging tendrils, a crimson flame blade forming before him.
Twilight’s eye blazed with inky-black fire as she brought Death’s Token down on the Sentinel in a shower of red-and-gold sparks. She caught Reaper out of the corner of her eye: “DON’T YOU DARE, D’HURGMREI!!”
A pair of glyphs suddenly burst into being above Zecora, halting Reaper in his tracks: “Are you insane?! That thing’s going to consume everything in its death throes! You can go to oblivion if you want, but don’t damn Zecora to the same fate!”
Twilight threw her head back in rage and ecstasy as black bands shot out from her, piercing the Sentinel, severing its connection to the table: “I AM FATE!!”
She poised the sword downward toward the roiling mass of dark-gray and black and crimson and violet beneath her.
Reaper’s eyes went wide: “Luna! To me! I can’t protect Zecora, and Twilight’s out-of-control!”
Luna shook her head as her eyes focused on the scene across the chamber. She lurched to her hooves and teleported to Zecora.
She wrapped the limp, battered zebra in a black bubble with her and staggered a few yards to her left, near the mirror alcove. Celestia pounded futilely on the wall and watched in horror as Twilight poured out her final measure of power.
Twilight let loose a feral howl and drove Death’s Token into the Sentinel.
The chamber was instantly flooded with a blinding golden light as the tendrils swelled and pulsed. Waves of magic and Death’s energy and psionic power coursed through the air, washing over Reaper, driving him to the floor, distending and tearing at Luna’s shield.
“DIIIIIIIEEEE!!”
Twilight's horn splintered as the table blew apart into countless shards, ripping through the chamber like grapeshot, shattering Twilight’s pelvis, fracturing the front wall, tearing huge chunks out of the Sentinel, dissipating Luna’s shield.
The chamber fell utterly dark and silent. Even the stones dropping from the crumbling roof and walls made no sound on impact. It was impossibly cold.
Celestia forced her way through the damaged entryway and took a tentative step inside. Her horn flickered weakly for a moment, then surged with white light, briefly illuminating the scene beyond.
“Oh, no…”
Because I Could not Stop for Death
The darkness pressed in, pushing back Celestia’s light, limiting it to a flickering pool just three yards across. She worked her way gingerly across the rubble-and-ichor-strewn floor, trembling in the extreme cold, her eyes wide and searching.
“L-Luna? Twilight?”
She pushed on another few yards, ears flat, the hair along her spine raised, mane dim and limp.
“Re-Reaper?”
She picked her way around an oozing, blood-splattered chunk of the Sentinel, and saw a hazy, dark form splayed out in the dust.
“Reaper? Is that you?”
The shape stirred and sat up: “Probably. I seriously doubt anypony else would want the job. I don’t even want it anymore...”
Celestia took another step, bit her lip and forced her horn to brighten: “I’m having a hard time seeing anything, and I can’t seem to generate any more light than this!”
Reaper phased-in completely and rubbed the back of a hoof down his muzzle: “No surprise--this whole place is awash with the afterglow of dark magic and Death’s energy, and whatever in the Cosmos’ name that thing was throwing off!”
Celestia’s brow furrowed: “I’m not in any danger, am I?”
Reaper stood and straightened his cloak: “Not much, though you shouldn’t hang around any longer than you have to, just to be safe.”
“I just want to find everypony and get them out of here!”
Reaper nodded: “Well, I think Luna and Zecora got pushed back into the mirror alcove. Follow me.”
He walked across the cracked floor, horn glowing faintly as Celestia followed close behind. They stopped and looked down at two figures, one cradled back-to front against the other.
Celestia’s eyes shimmered with tears: “Are-are they alright? Zecora’s bleeding from everywhere !”
Reaper closed his eyes: “She’s alive, though you’re going to want to get her medical attention pretty quickly.”
“Of course!”
Celestia stepped closer and leaned down toward Luna, who was faintly shimmering: “How about--”
“Don’t touch her. Let me check first.”
Reaper leaned down and touched his horn to Luna’s shoulder. She appeared to ripple for a moment as a thin mist rose from her hide.
Reaper stood back up and nodded: “Yeah, her shield must have collapsed when everything exploded, and it ended up bonding to her. She’ll be fine in a minute or two, but she’s going to be pretty drained for a bit--she was pushing her dark magic to its limits.”
Celestia looked back over her shoulder: “Speaking of…”
Reaper turned to join her and took a step into the gloom: “Twilight. Right. I don’t sense her. We’re going to have to dig a bit, I suspect.”
Celestia furrowed her brow: “Wait--you don’t sense her? Does that mean she’s--”
“Dead? No, I’d know that. She may have been absorbed at the very end and spit back out in this miasma.”
Celestia gasped: “How horrible!”
Reaper approached the mutilated remains of the bulk of the Sentinel. It was still giving off faint, dark vapors, still twitching, smeared with ichor and blood, glittering horn fragments, and pale purple feathers.
“It’s weird--I can’t sense my sword either.”
“Could it have been destroyed?”
“Literally impossible.”
“Lost back into the Void?”
Reaper chewed his lip for a moment: “That’s not impossible, nor encouraging, since her damn wards are still up.”
Celestia’s eyebrows jumped: “Which means she’s still alive!”
Reaper paused and rolled his eyes: “How stupid of me! If her wards are up, of course she’s still alive, at least in some form, anyway.”
They froze as a weak, breathless gasp escaped from beneath the wreckage: “Alive…”
Celestia’s eyes went wide: “Oh, thank the moon and sun! Let me lift this off you!”
She reached out with a beam of golden magic--and immediately fell back a step, blinking and coughing.
Reaper grinned: “Yeah, you really shouldn’t touch this shit. Let me see what I can do…”
His horn glowed and the twisted, dark-gray bulk began to move, lifting and sliding slightly. Reaper bit his lip and groaned as the Sentinel’s body started to settle back toward the floor.
Suddenly a beam of bright-blue magic cut through the gloom, and moved the dripping carcass off to one side.
Reaper turned and nodded to Luna: “Thanks! I did gain some skill while in a true unicorn‘s body, but clearly not enough!”
Luna smiled weakly as she brightened her horn and looked down at Twilight’s battered, bleeding body: “She is in very poor shape.”
Celestia stepped up beside her sister, shaking her head, surveying the damage: “Oh, no! Twilight! Can you hear me? We’re going to get you to the Royal Surgeon as soon as possible. Hopefully we can reverse some of this damage, but…”
Twilight raised her head and opened her battered right eye: “Ze-Zecora?”
Luna tipped her head back toward the alcove: “She is alive, and will also need tending to.”
“Good. P-please shield her and step ba-back.”
Celestia furrowed her brow: “What?”
The inky, light-absorbing haze filling the chamber began to swirl and condense as thin tendrils snaked out from Twilight’s bleeding hip and eye socket and severed foreleg.
A new sacrifice circle formed above the Void as a nimbus pooled around its base and beneath Twilight. It lifted her slowly from the floor.
Celestia’s nostrils flared, and she shied backwards two steps: “Wh-what are you doing?”
“I-I can fix this…”
Reaper glanced up at the sacrifice circle, then down at the thin, black ribbons forming a web over the Sentinel, then back at Twilight: “Don’t do this…”
Twilight rose unsteadily on her hind legs, propped up by several tendrils. The containment device’s cover glowed violet and drifted through the now-clear air, settling atop the Void with a soft hiss.
Luna squinted at the glyphs inside the sacrifice circle: “These-these are different…”
Reaper stepped closer and peered at the ground where Twilight had been: “Where is my sword?”
The tendrils connecting Twilight to the Void to the Sentinel began to thicken and pulse. She smiled weakly as Death’s Token glided over to her at the end of a black ribbon: “S-sorry. I guess I n-need it one more time.”
Celestia’s horn went dark as fear filled her eyes: “I don’t--I don’t understand…”
Twilight nodded as the nimbuses beneath her and the Void swelled and merged: “It’s g-going to be okay. I-I can fix this.”
Reaper slowly backed away, his eyes darting from Zecora to Luna to Celestia. He turned slightly toward Luna: “Do you have enough power to teleport out of here? To take Zecora out of here?”
Luna took a deep, shuddering breath: “I fear not. But perhaps--”
Twilight’s eye went blank as glistening, oily threads began to shoot along the tendrils, converging on her leg and hip and face. A wave of power pulsed through the chamber.
Reaper put up a hoof and walked back, pushing Luna slightly: “Too late! Just shield Zecora and make for the entrance. Celestia! Get out of here!”
He stepped in between Twilight and the retreating ponies, generating a blue shield, eyes narrowing as the Void vanished entirely inside the nimbus. Celestia and Luna worked the broken door free and pulled Zecora inside the room beyond.
They turned back and watched as swirls of black and violet and gold formed around Twilight. Large pieces of the Sentinel began to rise off the floor, swathed in a golden glow.
Reaper shook his head and fell back another yard. His voice fell to a whisper: “Don’t do this…”
Twilight looked down from the nimbus and smiled: “It’s going to be fine.”
She gritted her teeth and pointed Reaper’s sword at the sacrifice circle. A series of runes glittered across her hide as more chunks of the Sentinel levitated, and the sacrifice circle settled over the Void, melting into it.
Twilight threw her head back and cried out power words as the Void coursed with energy, and the fragments of the Sentinel began to melt like snow in a furnace, emitting squealing, squelching noises.
Gold and violet light streamed from Twilight as she shuddered in agony and euphoria: “I-I understand! It’s-it’s…”
Her eye reformed as her wounded hip knit closed, and her severed leg materialized at the end of its bloody stump. The Void swelled again, its nimbus rising and billowing like a thunderhead.
Luna and Celestia watched with tears in their eyes as Twilight’s body was wreathed in black-and-crimson flames, healing her hide, rebuilding her wing, and reconstructing her horn, which glowed with a brilliant violet light. Her nostrils flared as the air was rent by a high, thin screech; the core of the Sentinel split like rotting fruit.
Twilight began to pant and spasm, dropping to all fours, drifting drunkenly to the floor, tail whipping, wings rising and stretching, tongue hanging out. A final wave of energy surged through the chamber, dissolving the last traces of the Sentinel as Twilight gasped ecstatically.
She staggered a few steps, rear legs splayed and wobbling, and emptied her bladder with a long, deep, luxurious moan. She shuddered, collapsed on the floor and rolled lazily to her side, eyes half-lidded, tongue lolling.
The black tendrils slowly withdrew into the Void, taking Reaper’s sword along with it. He watched it vanish from under a furrowed brow: “Are you done?”
Twilight took a long, ragged breath and rose unsteadily to her hooves: “Y-yes. That actually took almost as much effort as killing that thing had!”
“I’m sure.”
Reaper took a step back and turned to face the alicorns who were now staring aghast at the scene from beyond the chamber’s crumbling wall.
He gestured to Celestia and Luna: “Come on in, Princesses. I think it’s safe, now.”
Celestia shook her head stiffly, wings flared defensively, eyes frozen wide. Her stomach suddenly lurched, and she retched into her mouth. She turned hastily, tucked her wings and stumbled from the room, vomit now staining her snow-white breast.
Luna slowly entered the chamber, cautiously approaching Reaper from his left side. She stopped and gazed at Twilight with tears in her eyes: “Why, Twilight? Why would you do this? Do you know what you have done ?"
Twilight furrowed her brow in confusion: “Done what? I fixed it. The Void is tamed, the creature is destroyed, Zecora is back. I don’t see the problem.”
Reaper glared balefully at the Void: “Can I please have my sword back, now?”
“Hmm? Ah…”
Twilight glanced casually over her shoulder and a tendril shot out of the nimbus bearing Death’s Token. It sat it on the floor before Reaper.
“Thank you.”
Twilight nodded and the tendril withdrew.
Luna shivered violently, eyes wide and shimmering: “I-I cannot remain here!”
She fled back through the sagging entryway, pausing only long enough to retrieve Zecora’s limp form off the floor before dashing from Grey Thorn’s lair, blinded by tears.
Twilight chewed her lip for a moment, then looked down at the wet spot on the floor, blushing: “He was right about the towel…”
She glanced at Reaper who was standing still, staring at the Void. She shook her head: “You don’t understand. None of you do. I’ll explain it to Celestia later when she’s had a chance to calm down a bit.”
“I don’t see that happening anytime soon.”
Twilight looked around the chamber absentmindedly: “Hmm. I guess I didn’t imagine the table being destroyed. Good to see the mirror made it through okay…”
“Planning on a trip, Princess?”
Twilight smiled: “Oh, I don’t need that anymore. It’ll just be nice to study it later, when I have some free time.”
“Free time?”
“Don’t worry about it. Anyway, I have to leave for a bit. I assume you’re going to go check on Zecora?”
Reaper nodded.
“Okay, well let Celestia know I’ll be by later. Everything will make sense then.”
Twilight took a step back toward the Void as the nimbus reached around her like a cloak. She and the Void disappeared in a violet flash.
Reaper sat down on the floor next to his sword, and stared coldly for several minutes at the spot where the Sentinel had died.
Because I Could not Stop for Death
The Princesses rushed Zecora into the guest room adjacent to Celestia’s chambers, with four medical ponies, two guards and the Royal Surgeon--a middle-aged, deep-brown unicorn mare--in-tow.
Luna lowered the unconscious zebra onto the bed as the staff bustled, inserting an IV, taking vitals, sponging away blood from her face. The Royal Surgeon gingerly separated Zecora’s hindquarters and swept the area with a beam of light.
“She’s bleeding from every place a mare can bleed, and her hide is singed and gashed! What in Equestria happened to her?”
Celestia chewed her lip: “I-I’ll explain later. For now I need to know if she’s stable. Will she live?”
The Royal Surgeon let Zecora’s hind leg down gently as a nurse stepped in to continue cleaning. She turned to face Celestia: “She should, though she appears to be comatose. I’ll have to investigate that further, once I’ve determined the extent of her other injuries.”
Celestia nodded: “Thank you, Doctor.”
The doctor bowed slightly: “Not at all, your Highness. I should--are you sick, or was that from the victim?”
Celestia glanced down at her stained and matted coat: “No, that was me. It’s-it’s not important…”
The doctor raised an eyebrow, but held her peace, and turned back to Zecora, asking questions of the staff and pointing out wounds to Celestia.
Luna stood off to one side, eyes closed, chewing her lip. She breathed slowly and deeply, trying to reach into Zecora’s unconscious, when she was suddenly aware of another presence.
Reaper?
Yeah, I’m back in the corner, phased-out as far as I can while still having a presence. How’s Zecora?
The Surgeon will do her usual best, but I fear this task is beyond her.
Coma?
Yes. I sensed Zecora’s mind was nearly shattered, and so put her in the deepest sleep possible.
I understand. I’m going to head back to your chambers. Please bring Celestia and meet me as soon as you can.
Luna nodded and slowly opened her eyes, noting a shadowy ripple fade away in a far corner behind a chair.
Reaper sat at the foot of Luna’s dais, peering into the dark, vaulted ceiling, tracking the progress of Luna’s pet as he hunted insects. He turned his head and glanced at the doorway as light streamed in. Luna entered a moment later, followed by Celestia and Noble Steel.
Luna approached the dais and nodded toward several sconces and lamps, filling the room with a low, bluish-white glow.
Reaper stood: “Sorry for the lighting--I’ve never really cared one way or another whether it was light or dark.”
Luna nodded: “It seems you are not the only one with an ambivalent attitude regarding darkness.”
Reaper smiled grimly: “Nice metaphor, but you’re not wrong.”
Noble moved to one side and let Celestia pass on her way to a low couch. She sat and summoned a goblet of wine from a side table.
Noble poured one as well, and sat down on a nearby ottoman: “What does that mean? What happened to Twilight?”
Celestia turned to Reaper: “The Lieutenant entered Zecora’s room moments after you left. I had let him know we were on the way, and he was eager to see her.”
Noble nodded and swallowed: “She looked terrible, but I’m actually more worried about Twilight! Luna filled me in on the basics of the last battle, but I still don’t get it.”
Celestia closed her eyes and drained her wine: “Neither do I. What is she? What...what…?”
Tears welled in her red-rimmed eyes as Luna refilled the goblet hovering below her sister’s trembling lip: “Is she somehow now Grey Thorn? Is this his doing? I-I…”
Reaper shook his head: “I almost wish it were--It’s always nice to have a villain to fall back on. No, that thing is now Twilight.”
Luna sat beside her sister and bit her lip: “How-how did this happen?”
“Do you remember her statement, ‘the Void is tamed?’”
“Yes.”
“She tamed it by bonding with it. When she tore out that creature that was the flaw at the heart of the Void, she effectively took its place. She siphoned off the last of its life force and connected to the Void.”
Celestia shuddered: “Is there nothing we can do? Even if you have to...Reaper, you have to…”
She laid her head on Luna’s shoulder and wept quietly.
Luna looked up with hard eyes: “I fear Celestia is right. We no longer have a choice.”
Reaper sighed: “Nor a chance.”
Noble raised an eyebrow: “Why not? Surely she still trusts you enough to let you get close and…”
Reaper shook his head: “And annoy her. She is beyond reaping. She has mastered Death. There is only one being now in this world capable of stripping her of her power--herself.”
Celestia opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling: “And-and where is she now? Do we flee? Do we fight? Is-is she evil?”
“No, she’s still Twilight, and likely will remain so for some time to come. But she may well begin to take actions she no longer perceives as negative. She will become increasingly amoral.”
“And that thing! It has to feed or recharge or whatever, yes? She’s now a risk for draining ponies of their essences!”
Reaper shrugged: “Maybe. I assume the fundamental need to provide it energy still exists, though without the creature, that’s likely lessened.”
He paced: “No, the biggest problem is we have no idea where or when she is.”
“‘When?’”
“The device that makes up the bulk of the Void has the ability to transcend the bounds of both space and time. She may disappear for a short period to us, and spend months elsewhere, in another time. She may be unrecognizable by the time she returns.”
Celestia’s eyes went wide with fear: “Then what are we to do? If she can simply appear any time at any place without warning, in an unknown state-of-mind…”
“I know where she is.”
All eyes turned to Noble Steel. He set down his cup and wiped his mouth with the back of a hoof: “It’s where she always goes.”
Reaper’s eyebrows jumped: “Of course! Tartarus!”
Luna closed her eyes with a pained expression: “Grey Thorn.”
Celestia furrowed her brow: “Why would she go there? Is he controlling her somehow?”
Noble stood and shook his head: “No--at least not the way you’re thinking. But she’ll want to show him what she’s done--prove she’s better, smarter, stronger.”
Reaper gestured to Noble: “Let’s go!”
Noble raised an eyebrow: “Not that I’m shirking, but why am I going?”
“Moral support!”
He turned to The Sisters as he began to fade: “Stay safe! And if we never return--well, stay safe…”
He phased out as Noble vanished in a flash.
Celestia laid her head back onto Luna’s shoulder and closed her eyes.
“Unbelievable!”
Twilight stepped to one side as the Void slid alongside her, expanding slightly as she entered the alcove.
“How did you master the creature? I would never have dared bring my creation down here--too unstable!”
“I fixed it. I took care of the core inefficiency by tearing out that thing and completing the work you never finished.”
“Tore it out?”
“Yeah. I pulled it out through the top of the containment vessel and killed it.”
Grey Thorn stared, his mouth hanging open for several moments. He slowly closed it: “Finished what work?”
Twilight’s horn pulsed violet as a series of circles and equations and symbols formed in the air: “This work--all the hard stuff you never tried to hammer-out.”
Grey Thorn scowled: “So, you’ve come to gloat.”
Twilight furrowed her brow in confusion: “No, not exactly…”
“Then why are you here?”
“That’s an excellent question, Twilight--why are you here?”
Twilight turned to her right and looked at the two figures entering the alcove: “Oh, Reaper! I was wondering if you’d show up. So why are you here? There aren’t any more questions, and the job’s done, so..."
“You first.”
Twilight licked her lips: “I’m not really sure. I guess I wanted a chance to push my limits controlling the Void, and this seemed like as safe a place as any.”
Reaper raised an eyebrow: "Push your limits?"
Twilight smiled broadly: "You have no idea, Reaper--the places I've already gone, the things I've already seen! This device is amazing ! I can go anywhere, to any time, almost effortlessly! It's actually kind of hard to keep track..."
“And this is also a chance for closure with your rival, your foil, your...mentor?”
Twilight shook her head: “Mentor? No...not that.”
“Sure.”
Twilight fixed her expression and nodded curtly: “So I guess I did come to gloat, all along!”
“Sure.”
Twilight narrowed her eyes and pointed at Noble: “So why are you here? And why him?”
“I came to toss that thing in the Pit and take you home. The good Lieutenant’s here for moral support.”
Twilight snorted: “Toss it? Why would I let you do that? This thing is the answer ponies have been seeking for millenia!”
“Answer to what?”
“Where do ponies go when they die, of course.”
“I see.”
She gestured to the Void: “I don’t think you really do. I can keep ponies here, in this world, on this side of the Veil. They’ll be here, in this controlled, contained space, free to continue their conscious existence without the unknowability that used to trouble us.”
Reaper circled Twilight as Noble slid into the shadows, nervously avoiding both the Pit and the Void: “That’s the price of mortality, Twilight--the ambiguity of one’s existence, the fragility of it all, the inscrutability of the end.”
“But it doesn’t have to be that way, Reaper! Ponies can be here, with others they know, in a place I can fashion and mold for them!”
“Until they fade there, too. Then what?”
“Fade?”
“That thing will decay and erode any spirit within it, eventually nullifying its existence. It is its nature.”
“No--I fixed it! It’s perfect! I got rid of the creature that was sucking out life force--”
“And substituted yourself. Now you will feed off their essences. You will be the answer to the question ‘where do ponies go!’”
“No, no…”
Twilight glanced up at the figures and equations: “No, it’s fine! I can travel with this, seek other energies in order to balance the minute amounts that will bleed-off over the centuries.”
Reaper nodded at Grey Thorn: “You mean other worlds, other life forms. Like he did, right?”
Twilight glanced nervously back at the figures and glared at Grey Thorn: “Not like him--he was sloppy! So much wasted energy, so much--”
“Deep Time, Princess.”
Twilight furrowed her brow and turned back toward Reaper: “What?”
“You have no sense of Deep Time. I am, indeed, ‘Entropy’s Errand Colt,’ and I feel its every drip, its every ripple, no matter how infinitesimal. That thing may well be balanced out to ten decimal places, but that’s still a huge error over the span of eternity.”
Twilight rolled her eyes: “Well okay, but I can still keep ahead of that tiny--”
“Forever?”
“Y-yes…”
Reaper drew his sword and rose on his hind legs. His cloak billowed in an unseen breeze. The light dimmed and the Pit seemed to press in from all sides: “Forever, Twilight. You can never stop. You and this thing will be the end of all things you touch, eventually. You will be the repository for all beings you encounter.”
“But-but I won’t actually kill anypony! I’ll just take them up at their end, like I did--as you do--as the Harbinger! How is that any different?”
“Because the Harbinger sends them on, intact, to their final fate. You will now be their final fate, because little by little, over the slow march of years, this thing will feed them to you. It is inevitable. You have literally become D'hurgmrei!”
Twilight hardened her expression: “Alright, let say for argument’s sake that you’re right--that eventually all things would decay and channel through me. How is that any different than oblivion? At least they would have had eons of consciousness!”
“Yes, until they wink out and pass their final, fleeting thoughts to you. Do you know how crushing that burden will be for you? You've experienced but the tiniest fraction. Even I , after five-thousand years can barely perceive what it would feel like.”
“O-okay, but…”
“And not just their final visions, Twilight--all of it. You will literally be absorbing all they ever were. And you’ll feel it all as it happens--the screaming and weeping and cursing, the smell of piss and blood and shit!”
He circled her again and pulsed a beam of pale-blue energy at the fading symbols. A pair of bipedal bodies appeared, bound and naked, necks stretched backwards over a log. A man in a green doublet stood to one side directing two soldiers.
“You only saw a smattering of visions--fleeting shades of death.”
Twilight’s nostrils flared: “I’ve died twice! I know what that--”
“Yes, and you remember that taste of blood in the back of your throat? How hard it was to get rid of? How it still haunts your dreams?”
“...”
Reaper tipped his horn up as flaming coal tar and naptha and pitch were poured slowly over the upturned faces of the screaming figures, searing and melting away their features, cooking their brains until their skulls burst.
Twilight started at the report of exploding bone.
“That smell’s even harder to get out of your throat--burnt blood and flesh.”
“But-but, I won’t--”
“Experience death like this? How can you possibly know that, Princess? Deep Time will give you everything , eventually.”
Twilight began to breathe rapidly and chew her lip. Grey Thorn glared at Reaper from his enclosure. Reaper stepped up close to Twilight, her eyes fixed on the horror hovering above her.
He leaned in as the scene shifted to the man in green walking past a row of naked, tortured bodies, hanging by their dislocated arms from a scaffold, shit dripping from their legs, the ground fouled for yards around: “But it’s the shit that’s the worst. It gets on your boots, it gets places you never seem to get clean, it lodges in your sinuses, and no amount of booze or drug ever really gets rid of it.”
He stepped back: “That’ll be yours for eternity as you send ten-thousand generations of ponies into oblivion, drip by drip.”
Twilight began to pant. Grey Thorn pressed up against the enclosure: “He’s lying! He fears your power and knows he can’t defeat you, so he’s playing disgusting tricks!”
Reaper glanced over his shoulder at Grey Thorn with a cold smile, then stepped in front of Twilight. They locked eyes: “A simple test, then. You remember Dew Drop, yes?”
Twilight nodded breathlessly.
“I don’t--not really. But I got an echo of her last moments. It’s how I knew I’d missed something.”
He licked his lips and the scene above shifted to the final moments of the Sentinel before it melted away: “So that thing has taken a few last victims quite recently, yes?”
Twilight nodded, eyes dilated and locked on the scene.
“Green Streak, Top Cover, Solar Gleam, yes? And as with a big fish that eats a little fish whose remains are still visible in the big fish’s gut for some time, I’m sure that creature still carried the final traces of its unfortunate, final victims.”
Twilight swallowed heavily as a tear ran down her cheek.
“So I wonder…”
Grey Thorn ground his teeth as Twilight began to tremble.
The scene shifted one last time. A small earth pony lay dead on a urine-soaked rug.
Saliva dripped from Twilight’s lower lip: “N-n-no…”
“I wonder…”
“...”
“Did Dew Drop taste like strawberries?”
Twilight staggered backwards into a wall, spewing vomit, choking, tears streaming down her face: “NO! N-NO!!”
“Forever, Twilight! That taste and a billion more! Forever!”
She dropped to her knees and heaved and heaved, splattering her legs and chest: “St-stop! Oh, sweet Celestia, stop!”
Reaper bent down and touched his muzzle to Twilight's: “Celestia? You’ll have to reckon with her soon, yes? Piece of cake with that thing at your command! Her destruction will be trivial!”
Twilight pawed blindly at the air, snot running down her muzzle, vomit still bubbling from her throat and lips: “Pl-ple-please stop!”
“And Luna! She’ll retreat to the dreamscape, maybe even the moon. That won’t even be an inconvenience! The energy they’ll bring can forestall your doom for centuries!”
Twilight retched and staggered to her hooves, eyes flitting rapidly from the Pit to the Void to Grey Thorn. She turned toward the Void in horror: “Get-get it away!”
“Too late, Princess! It’s part of you, now! And I’m sure it’s hungry--you must have tapped almost all its reserves after the battle. G.T. can tell you what happens when it gets hungry…”
Twilight backed away and bumped into another wall: “N-no! I’ll just sh-shut it down! I-I can--”
Reaper reached out and pulled a terrified Noble from the niche in which he was hiding. He threw the unicorn to the ground and poised Death’s Token above him: “Here, boss, let me help! You won’t actually have to kill him, just soak-up his spirit when I’m done!”
Twilight stumbled forward and swatted at the sword: “N-no! Please stop!”
She turned back to the Void, eyes wild with panic: “I-I have to break it--off!”
She lanced her wrists clumsily, spraying blood across her chest, and formed a pair of sacrifice circles above the Void. A series of matching runes glittered on her hide as she shouted incantation after spell after power word.
She trembled violently as her eyes went blank, and wave after wave of dark magic and violet energy pulsed through the alcove, throwing up lurid shadows broken only by the infinite black of the implacable Pit.
Twilight’s voice rose to a shriek as Reaper’s blade glowed crimson, and Noble pressed himself against the floor, hooves jammed in his ears. She rose from the floor, wings and forelegs spread, foam flecking her lips, eyes burning with silver fire.
The Void swelled and billowed outward, threatening to engulf the alcove, forcing Reaper to generate a shield to protect the nearly-senseless Noble.
“D-D-DIIIEEEEE!!”
Twilight’s scream echoed through the alcove, the Void’s nimbus collapsed inward with a thunderclap, and cracks radiated outward on the floor beneath her as chunks of stone broke free from the roof.
Grey Thorn shrank back against the back of his cage: “Un-unbelievable!”
Twilight dropped from the air and crumpled in a heap as the Void suddenly shrank and settled to the floor, melting a shallow divot. The sacrifice circles flickered and faded. The dim light returned.
Reaper slowly approached Twilight: “Are you alright?”
Twilight pushed up with one leg and pulled her right wing back against her body. She squinted up at Reaper: “I-I think so. I-I don’t feel it n-now…”
She was suddenly wracked with spasms and curled into a ball: “Ahh! The pain! It-it burns, and the emptiness is cru-crushing my lungs!”
“Can you sit up?”
“I-I-I can try…”
She struggled to her haunches, wings hanging limp at her sides as she panted: “Oh, oh, oh, no! It-it’s all so empty now! All the energy and power are g-gone, and I-I…”
She shuddered violently: “I’m so c-c-cold!”
Noble sat up and blinked stupidly as his eyes adjusted and his brain recovered from the onslaught. Reaper gestured to him: “Come here, sit with Twilight--she’s cold, and I don’t exactly generate body heat!”
Noble wobbled to his hooves and stumbled over. He bit his lip and glanced dubiously back and forth between the Void and Twilight.
She looked up into his eyes and recoiled: “No! Get him away! I saw his eyes! I s-saw what he sees now! Get him away!”
Twilight lurched to her hooves and backed up: “Oh, no! This is how-how they’ll all s-see me now!”
Anguish flooded her face: “Oh, Celestia! She-she saw me! And L-Luna! It didn’t really make sense at-at the time, but now! Now! I s-see it! Their eyes!”
She dropped to her knees and wept: “Oh, Reaper they-they’ll never have m-me back! I c-can’t live with po-ponies anymore! Not after-after-after…”
Twilight’s shoulders heaved with sobs as saliva ran from her lips and tears streamed down her face: “I can’t! Not-not after Gr-Green Streak and Top-Top Cover and Solar and--”
Her body was wracked with spasms as she retched repeatedly, choking on the bile, clawing at the floor in agony: “I-I-I can still taste her!!”
She collapsed and dry-heaved. Reaper knelt beside her: “You didn’t know, Twilight. You couldn’t have--”
She shoved her rump against the wall and forced herself to stand: “It-it DOESN’T MATTER WHAT I KNEW OR DIDN’T KNOW!!”
She staggered blindly, nearly running into the Void. She recoiled, her face twisted in rage: “It-it-it only mat-matters what I did!”
She froze, eyes wild, like a trapped animal: “I-I can never go-go back! Not after this! Not after I TASTED PONIES’ ESSENCES! They-they’ll never forgive me! Cel-Celestia and Luna...”
Reaper shook his head: “Luna most certainly will, and I think you'll find Celestia has an endless capacity for compassion. She was nearly destroyed by her own sister, and they ultimately reconciled. They’ll do the same for you.”
She shook her head violently: “No! Thi-this is too much! I-I can’t stay h-here, I can-can’t return--I’m poisoned! Toxic!”
“Twilight--”
Her eyes darted from Grey Thorn to the Void to the Pit. She broke right and dashed towards oblivion.
Reaper dove after her: “Shit!”
He generated a shield at the last moment, turning her aside: “Noble! Get your ass over here and restrain her!”
The unicorn lurched forward and pulled Twilight from the brink, wrapping his forelegs around her, pinning her hooves to the floor with magic.
She struggled and strained to lean forward: “N-no! Let me g-go! It’s the only place I can be cl-cleaned! You said it-it’s the nexus of everything! All things end there any-anyway, right? All answers are there! All-all solutions! Let me end it there!”
Reaper dropped his shield and turned back toward Twilight: “Yeah, all solutions are there, but they all reduce to zero, and I’m pretty sure that isn’t the answer you’re looking for!”
Twilight sagged back against Noble, slobber running down her chin, blubbering and sobbing: “Th-then where am I t-to go?! I-I ca-can’t g-go back! I can’t b-be clean!”
Her eyes suddenly grew wide, and she looked up imploringly at Reaper: “Y-you can do it! Y-you can send me on! I-I can at least answer wh-where one pony g-goes when she dies!”
Reaper furrowed his brow as Noble shook his head: “No, Twilight! No!”
Twilight looked over her shoulder at Noble then back at Reaper: “Y-yes! Pl-please send me on! I’ll al-always have a stain! I should have a stain! Pl-please! Send me somewhere I c-can be clean again!”
She collapsed, hanging in Noble’s grasp, wings feebly twitching, voice hoarse from weeping: “I-I j-just want to be clean again...pl-please let me be-be clean again…”
Noble looked up at Reaper, eyes filled with anguish: “What are we going to do? We can’t take her back like this! We can’t let her go! What are we going to do?”
Reaper stepped back, straightened his cloak and drew his sword. He gestured with it to Noble: “Let her go.”
Noble furrowed his brow: “What?”
“Let her go and back up a step or two. Do it!”
Noble bit his lip, released Twilight from his forelegs and magical restraints, rose and backed away.
Reaper looked down at Twilight, slumped on the floor, sobbing: “Stand up.”
“...”
“Stand up, Twilight!”
Twilight squinted up at Reaper and wiped the back of a hoof across her eyes. She struggled to her hooves and faced Reaper. She noticed his sword leveled at her, pale crimson light gleaming off its edge.
“Wha-wha…?”
“Close your eyes.”
Twilight's nostrils flared as she twitched violently and squeezed her eyes shut: “Tha-tha-thank--”
“Shh.”
Twilight choked back a sob: “I-I thank-thank--”
“Take a deep breath.”
Twilight drew in a deep shuddering breath and lowered her head. Tears flowed freely down Noble’s face as he shook his head weakly in protest. Reaper advanced the final step.
Twilight heard the crunch of his hooffall: “I-I’ll see you in a little bit…”
“Yes, Twilight. You’ll see me shortly.”
He raised Death’s Token high as Twilight trembled and Noble wept. The sword sliced swiftly through the dark air in a smooth arc, closing in on Twilight’s neck with a soft hiss.
At the last instant the sword rotated end-for-end; the hilt struck Twilight soundly between the eyes, which fluttered open for a moment, then rolled up in her head. She dropped to the floor with a 'thud,' splattering the ground in front of her muzzle with saliva and snot.
Noble’s furrowed his brow in confusion: “Wha--?”
Reaper swiftly sheathed his sword: “Pick her up and get her out of here!”
“I-I--”
“You’ve been back-and-forth down here with both of us several times. Have you figured out how to phase through the barrier wall?”
“Um…”
“It’s important! Can you do it?”
Noble chewed his lip for a moment and looked down at Twilight: “Yes--I can do it.”
“Good. Get her out of here. Take her to Luna--explain what happened here and have Luna drop her into as deep a sleep as she can. I’ll be along shortly.”
“What are you going to do?”
Reaper gestured to the Void: “I have to take care of that, and time is short! I doubt it’ll stay dormant long without a controller.”
Noble nodded and scowled at the black, carriage-sized sphere: “Take care of it, yeah! I get it--pitch the fucking thing in the Pit!”
Reaper shook his head: “I sensed that there are spirits trapped in there. They don’t deserve the oblivion of the Pit.”
“So what are you going to do?”
Reaper sighed “Probably something stupid. Now go--hurry!”
Noble lifted Twilight and disappeared with a flash.
Reaper threw a blue shield around the Void and pulled it free of its divot. He paused for a moment and looked over his shoulder at Grey Thorn: “You almost pulled it off. You nearly got this monstrosity perfected, even if it was by somepony else’s hoof.”
He turned away and began to phase: “And you almost added one more victim to your tally. But she was stronger than you in the end. Enjoy reliving your failures throughout Deep Time, G.T.”
Reaper and the Void flickered fitfully for a moment then faded away.
Because I Could not Stop for Death
“Sure--by myself, I can! But this …”
Noble Steel stood before the barrier wall at the bottom of Tartarus, squinting at its dark, featureless surface, muttering, nervously adjusting Twilight’s limp body which was lashed across his back with magical restraints.
He chewed his lip for a moment, took a deep breath and slowly walked forward, flickering and fading. His horn touched the coal-black wall and pierced it with a ripple.
Noble closed his eyes, steadied his breathing and phased, allowing Twilight to slip down through his back, partially entwining the two as he stepped fully into the barrier.
The world went pitch black. He could hear both his own heartbeat as well as Twilight’s as he took a tentative, laborious step, then another, finally fully entering the wall.
His sense of body and physicality drifted away as he slid forward through the barrier. Suddenly he was aware of an almost shared consciousness.
Wh-where am I? Am I dead?
No. I’m carrying you out of Tartarus. We’re phased right now.
I can’t feel anything.
You’re unconscious. I’m almost through the wall, then I’ll get you to Luna as fast as I can.
Why?
So she can help you sleep.
You should have let me die.
Not gonna happen, Twilight. Just a few more seconds.
He squeezed and strained, struggling to keep both himself and Twilight from fading and becoming hopelessly entombed in the cursed stone.
Almost...there…
Tell everypony I’m sorry.
Just hang on, Twilight.
I’m sorry.
Noble broke through the outer surface with a gasp and stumbled forward, almost overwhelmed by Twilight’s deep, all-consuming sadness and despair. He disentangled his form from Twilight’s, laid her gently on the cold floor, and sat down beside her.
He brushed her mane away from her slack, tear-stained face and watched her for a minute as he recovered a bit of strength, then leaned down and kissed her lightly on the forehead.
“It’s going to be okay.”
He rose wearily to his hooves, magically lifted and secured Twilight to his back, again, and teleported with a flash and a soft ‘pop.’
Celestia sat quietly on a cushion just outside the guest room, watching Luna’s face. Her indigo brow twitched, and Celestia could see her sister’s eyes darting beneath their lids.
Suddenly her reverie was broken by the flash-bang of Noble teleporting into the passageway behind them. She lurched to her hooves as Luna’s eyes snapped open.
“Noble! Twilight! Oh, thank the heavens you’re alright! Is she--is she…?”
Noble dropped to his haunches and let Luna guide Twilight off his back. Her violet body twisted awkwardly, and a limp wing flopped over her face.
“She’s alive. Reaper knocked her out and told me to get her to Luna as fast as possible.”
Luna knelt next to Twilight as Celestia magically manipulated her student’s body, rolling her to her side, tucking in her wings.
Luna closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath: “She is indeed unconscious. I will ensure that she, like Zecora, does not awaken for some time; her mind is just as shattered right now.”
Celestia bit her lip and gazed down at Twilight: “Wha-what happened? Where’s Reaper?”
Noble stood and gestured to a guard: “Please bring me something to drink.”
He turned back to Celestia and pointed to her cushion: “Do you mind if I sit for a second? I’m exhausted!”
Celestia moved back a step and nodded: “Not at all--please sit! Tell us what happened!”
Noble sat, took the cup offered by a bustling pegasus guard, and drained it. He was silent for almost a minute, eyes closed, breathing deeply.
Celestia furrowed her brow and looked at Luna, who had just finished arranging Twilight on a thick sleep mat: “Is--is he asleep?”
Noble opened his eyes with a weary smile: “No, Princess--just gathering my thoughts. I’m not entirely sure I even know what I just saw, but I’ll do my best to fill you in.”
Luna waved the guard back and requested wine for herself, Celestia and Noble. She sat down as Celestia moved closer: “Take your time, Lieutenant, but please do not omit anything.”
Noble nodded: “Alright, I think I have this all straight in my head, now. Please don’t interrupt, or I don’t think I’ll be able to get through it all!”
For the next fifteen minutes Noble told the Sisters of Twilight’s final showdown with Reaper, of her tearing away from the Void, of her breakdown and near-suicide, of Reaper’s resolution to the crisis, and of his own retreat from Tartarus, bearing the stricken alicorn on his back.
Noble looked over at Twilight, now covered with a blanket, still matted and damp with vomit and saliva and snot: “I almost wish Reaper had killed me, rather than have to watch her snap like that…”
Celestia wiped away a tear and nodded: “I understand. I watched her transform and could hardly believe my eyes. It ripped my heart out.”
Noble took a drink and steadied his trembling hooves: “So now what? I mean, she may never be the same again. Her self-hatred may lead her to do something rash.”
Luna drained her wine glass and sighed: “I know something of self-hatred, Lieutenant. I will keep Twilight in a deep sleep, and join her there in an effort to begin the healing process. It will not be easy, it will not be brief, but it can be done.”
Celestia stood and nodded: “If anypony can help Twilight through this, it’s my sister.”
She turned back toward the guest room, now transformed entirely into a hospital ward: “But the rest of us are going to have to figure our own ways through this. Twilight became a monster, and I’m not sure how to move past that.”
Luna rose as her sister left the hallway. She tipped her head down and magically lifted Twilight from the floor: “I will now take her back to her room adjacent to my quarters, and see to it that she is stabilized and bathed.”
She passed before Noble, bearing her burden, as the unicorn took a step back and bowed slightly: “Can I stop by later to check in on her.”
“Of course.”
The hallway was briefly flooded with a bright, bluish-white light as Luna teleported away.
Noble sat back down and refilled his cup.
Reaper stood before the barrier wall with the Void in-tow, and chewed his lip for a moment, eyes closed. He phased slightly and slipped his head inside the wall.
“Good. They were here…”
He stepped back, straightened his cloak, and strengthened the tether encircling the Void, driving back several nascent tendrils that had formed on its surface.
He scowled at the thin, black ribbons: “Damnit, I know you’re fishing for your counterpart. Just give me another couple of minutes and I’ll take care of that problem!”
Reaper closed his eyes again, phased-out entirely, and stepped into the barrier, tugging and straining against the Void as it, too, faded and vanished inside the coal-black wall.
He felt the tug of splintered time and space swirling around him, threatening to pull the Void from his control, as its nimbus began to form anew.
He gritted his teeth: “Not in here!”
Reaper burst forth from the far side of the barrier in flash of crimson and black; the Void appeared moments later, untethered, and began to burn another hole through the floor.
“Shit! I’m going to have to do this in one jump!”
He threw another set of restraints around the Void, closed his eyes and trembled, blurring and smearing as he pushed his phasing to its limit. The Void began to swell and glow a pale violet.
Reaper’s eyes flew open, blank and white: “Now!”
He and the Void flickered and pulsed for a few moments, then faded, leaving behind a deep divot, and a thin cloud of glittering, purple sparks.
Reaper and his charge appeared moments later in the infinite, blank, gray expanse of the Waiting Room. He released the tether and stumbled to one side, shaking his head and gasping. The Void hovered, menacingly.
Reaper drew his sword and circled the Void once, tipping his head and squinting at its featureless, matte surface. He nodded, reformed the tether and walked toward the unseen horizon.
Tendrils and ribbons began to reach out from the Void’s surface, probing and seeking, passing by Reaper, phasing through his unsheathed sword.
Reaper glanced over his right shoulder with a grim smile: “Yeah, not getting any love, are you? Well, we’re almost there…”
After several minutes Reaper slowed his pace, then shuffled forward, tentatively poking his sword tip and a hoof forward a yard at a time.
He finally stopped entirely with a nod: “Last stop, you chunk of junk.”
Reaper redoubled his restraints, then hovered next to Void, laying his head against it, eyes closed. He slowly moved over the surface, then stopped, head slightly phased inside the outer shell of the device.
He stopped near the top, reached into his cloak and pulled out a vial: “Thank you one last time, stallion me…”
Reaper poured out the blood and swept the top of the Void with a band of dark magic. Several glyphs and part of a sacrifice circle flickered into view.
He sighed: “Well, you may have stripped your wards off this thing, kiddo, but it’s still sealed-up tighter than a tomb. Well, I never saw a tomb I couldn’t get into! Alright, I guess we have to do this the hard way.”
Reaper drifted up directly next to a set of symbols a few inches above the sacrifice circle. He closed his eyes and ignored the seeking, grasping tendrils. He hovered, stock-still for several minutes, then phased his sword, and slowly slipped it through the Void’s surface.
He twisted and probed with his blade, like a thief trying to pick a lock, until at last he stopped and smiled. He phased and pushed his head into the Void until he was inside, up to his shoulders.
“I’m not sure if you spirits in here can hear me. I am the Harbinger and I’m going to try to rip this thing open. I have no idea what effect this may have, but I hope it will allow you to leave and move on beyond this world. Prepare if you can.”
He pulled himself free from the Void and drifted back two yards as his blade began to flicker with crimson flames. He closed his eyes, phased to his ultimate limit, and poured his power directly into Death’s Token with a howl.
The blade pulsed and the Void swelled as its nimbus blossomed like a sudden summer stormcloud. Everything froze for a moment, then the air was rent by a deafening blast as a two-yard-wide hole ripped open, spraying molten metal and phased fragments, and glittering shards of infinite blackness hundred of yards in every direction.
Reaper was thrown back by the shock which rippled through the very fabric of space and time. His cloak was cut and pierced, and even Death’s Token was nicked and scratched. He fell back in surprise, and held off for a minute as the gaping hole slowly stopped glowing.
He approached from the right side of the hole and reformed his tether, pulling the smoldering device onto its side. He stepped back and peered into the distorted, dark opening.
Green Streak, Bramble and Squish crashed back to the heaving, distended, fractured surface of the Swamp as chunks of Sentinel and turf, and showers of gold-and-violet sparks rained down on them, threatening to collapse Bramble’s weakening shield.
He staggered forward, trying to navigate the now-tilted, disorienting slope, dragging the other two along behind him: “We--have--to--get--away!”
Green Streak struggled to regain her balance as the world swirled drunkenly around her: “Where the fuck are we going?!”
“Anywhere but here! With the Sentinel torn out, and its localized control over the Vacuum’s field gone, the Swamp is coming to pieces!”
The ponies sprinted forward, barely keeping ahead of the avalanche behind them, until at last they dove into the cave opening, and cowered as the slope cascaded by like an orange-and-dark-gray tsunami. The light finally failed and the air grew deathly still.
After a minute Bramble’s horn began to glow dimly. He pushed his head through the cave entrance, and used a pulse of magic to clear away the material blocking it: “Come on--let’s get out of here.”
Green Streak looked over her shoulder: “Would it make more sense to back through the cave?”
Bramble grimaced: “I really don’t want to think what’s happening down in there now, with the Sentinel’s control gone. Besides, the other end may be blocked, too.”
The pegasus shrugged and followed Bramble out onto the tossed, unrecognizable ground beyond the cave. The Stream now flowed directly before them, causing them to divert “downstream.”
After several minutes of picking their way through the rubble to the plain beyond, guided by the Stream’s faint shimmer, Bramble noticed a shape moving alongside them in the Stream.
“Looks like Squish got clear of the wreckage, too.”
Green Streak nodded: “Was that thing actually helping at the end?”
“Sure looked like it. I guess maybe after all these centuries it formed some sort of rapport with me, I don’t know. I guess I’ll have plenty of time to figure it out, now.”
“Speaking of--now what?”
Bramble sighed: “I don’t know. We’ll be back at the Compound shortly--assuming it wasn’t destroyed--and we can take stock there. At least with the Sentinel gone, we don’t have to worry about being swept up and absorbed.”
“So we just sit and wait?”
Bramble nodded: “Until the Vacuum finishes the job.”
Green Streak chewed her lip and trudged on through the dark in silence.
Suddenly the air grew bright, and the sense of compression and distortion lifted as the world assumed its proper balance again.
Green Streak staggered and stopped: “Wha-what just happened?”
Bramble furrowed his brow and looked up at the series of glyphs and circles that had formed in the distant sky: “I-I don’t know. I don’t recognize those. It’s almost as though something else has taken control.”
The Pegasus’ eyes grew wide: “Are we in danger?”
Bramble’s expression darkened: “We’re always in danger in here. Let’s hurry!”
They dashed beside the Stream, making for the distant Compound as quickly as possible. Its ramshackle walls slowly rose before them, and they trotted around the perimeter, coming at last to the gate. Bramble tipped his head down, horn glowing, and lifted the portal. Green Streak entered, followed close behind by the unicorn.
He paused a moment and looked over his shoulder at the Stream: “Well?”
Squish slowly emerged from beneath the bridge and slipped under the gate as it fell shut.
Bramble moved to the center of the Compound as several ghostly ponies drifted from their dwellings with looks of concern and confusion. He pointed to the now-fading symbols overhead: “I don’t know what this means, but I do know the Sentinel is gone--Green Streak and I were there at the end. Kla’atra and Gil are also gone--they were destroyed defending the zebra Zecora.”
The small crowd murmured and glanced around nervously. An faded, pale-magenta unicorn stepped forward: “So what does this all mean? Can we leave the Compound? What about the Vacuum?”
“You can leave the Compound. The Vacuum is still intact. We will still slowly fade; that hasn’t changed.”
“Without the Sentinel, how is power being channeled? How did the light return?”
Bramble rubbed his muzzle: “Excellent question; I wish I knew. I don’t recognize the magic in the sacrifice circle you just saw, but I assume somepony--or something --else is now in control.”
“So we just sit and wait for oblivion.”
Bramble shrugged: “As we have for centuries. At least now we don’t need to worry about a predator speeding-up the process.”
The crowd dispersed and began to drift back toward their huts and shacks. Green Streak looked down at Squish: “We saw what it did to those shades. Is it safe to have in here?”
Bramble shrugged as he headed toward Gil’s now-vacant dwelling: “I don’t know, but it helped me, and I’m willing to take the risk.”
Green Streak nodded and followed, entering the hut and sitting on the floor next to Squish. Bramble settled onto Gil’s old cushion and closed his eyes.
“I miss him.”
“Gil?”
“Yes. Grey Thorn murdered him, but he never held that against me. He made this place bearable.”
Green Streak smiled: “I guess you’re Gil now.”
Bramble looked up sadly: “I suppose--”
Suddenly the air was split by a peal of thunder, and the light failed. The fabric of space was again contorted, and the floor of the hut began to buckle and split.
The ponies stumbled through the warping doorway and peered up at the sky, now crackling with violet energy. A scream of anguish and rage echoed from beyond the roof of the world. The ground rocked, and the Compound’s wall twisted and fell apart.
Green Streak turned frantically to Bramble: “Wha-now what?”
Bramble slowly shook his head: “I-I don’t know. I think whoever that was just lost control of this place. I’m heading out of here to get a better look at the plains beyond, if I can. I think the Vacuum is collapsing.”
“Col-collapsing?”
Bramble looked back over his shoulder to the crowd that was again forming: “Follow me.”
The ghostly group drifted through the crumbled remains of the Compound out onto the open plain beyond. Bramble led them alongside the Stream for a couple of minutes, then looked up, gauging their position relative to the ruins of the Swamp.
“If the Vacuum is collapsing, our only hope lies here, at this point. Use whatever power you have left to support my shield, and if the containment device ruptures, we may be able to escape it.”
“But, what if--”
“Oblivion. Same as was awaiting us anyway. Horns up, everypony. Be ready.”
The group crowded in and stood silently, peering into the dark.
Suddenly they were swept with a cold wave of power that dimmed their horns and drove them to their knees.
I’m not sure if you spirits in here can hear me. I am the Harbinger and I’m going to try to rip this thing open. I have no idea what effect this may have, but I hope it will allow you to leave and move on beyond this world. Prepare if you can.
Bramble rose, looked up toward the source of the faint voice and furrowed his brow: “Th-the Harbinger? How…?”
He squinted, then turned his head as a blaze of crimson erupted above the ruins of the Swamp like a distant supernova. He looked back at the confused and shocked faces behind him: “I-I don’t know what this means, but it’s now or never! Pour out every iota of power you have!”
The group was shrouded by a pale, flickering, multi-hued umbrella for mere moments before the world ended.
The sky split open with a scream of rending metal and a roar like an exploding volcano. The ground heaved and flipped forty-five degrees to the left, sending the cluster of spirits tumbling sideways, screaming and flailing as a mighty wind sprang up, sucking out all the air, tearing at their fragile essences, ripping even the light to shreds.
Bramble emptied out his last reserves in an effort to maintain the group’s shield, and was at the point of fading entirely, when the cataclysm stopped, silence returned, and a dim, flat light poured in from his left, apparently some twenty yards away.
He pulled himself wearily up from the ground, rubbed his eyes and pointed to the light: “That’s-that’s it!”
The others slowly stood and turned. Green Streak furrowed her brow and squinted: “Is that the outside? The real world?”
Bramble took several tentative steps forward, peering into the gap: “I-I can’t tell…”
Slowly, cautiously he led the group to the hole, which appeared to be hovering in space, like a ragged window. A dark, cloaked figure hovered just beyond.
Bramble swallowed hard: “That’s the Harbinger. Everypony head through--he’ll send you on beyond as you should have long ago.”
The group slowly filed past thanking Bramble for his help. Green Streak paused moments before stepping through the rift: “What about you?”
“I don’t know. Go on, Green Streak. I’m sorry you were ever here. Go on to meet your fate.”
Green Streak smiled sadly and stepped through the opening: “Thank you…”
Reaper fell back another step as two-dozen spectral figures drifted from the wreck of the Void. He pointed just past the cracked sphere with his sword as his mind was overwhelmed with a swarm of visions, comprised of centuries of experience, compressed into a few seconds.
“Go there and be at peace.”
The spirits silently passed beyond the final horizon, one by one, until a green pegasus emerged last, and looked back over her shoulder as she passed on: “We’d never have made it without him. I thought you should know.”
Reaper stood still, waiting.
After three minutes, a pale grey leg emerged from the rift, and Bramble stepped out, head low, Squish sheltering behind him. He glanced up at Reaper.
Reaper nodded and pointed again, out beyond the vanishing point of the final horizon. Bramble bowed deeply and turned to his right, skirting the wreckage of his creation. He paused.
“For what little it’s worth, I’m sorry.”
He stepped beyond the circles of world and vanished like a shadow, with a lesser shadow scurrying in his wake.
Reaper sheathed his sword, sat down and stared out past the final horizon.
Where do ponies go when they die?
Because I Could not Stop for Death
“Wait--so Grey Thorn was also there? And passed on? I don’t understand.”
Celestia took a long drink from her chased, golden chalice as Reaper smiled: “Sort of. There’s a variation of me in the form of Gerrar adrift somewhere in the Cosmos--”
He nodded toward Luna: “and we left behind Luna’s doppelgänger on Kur. Is it really that hard to believe that there were multiple instances--fragments, if you will--of Grey Thorn?”
Celestia furrowed her brow: “I guess not. But why then didn’t he rejoin, well, himself in Tartarus?”
Reaper took a deep breath and tapped his hooves together for a moment: “Alright, so you understand the concept of the death vision, yes?”
“A pony’s final, fleeting memories or whatnot as they die?”
Reaper nodded: “Death is quick, but it’s not an instantaneous act. Most ponies take five to thirty seconds to complete the process, and in that time, I see their final visions.”
He leaned back and adjusted his sword: “They’re brief, but dense and multilayered, and I typically take at least an hour to fully unpack one. But this situation with the Void threw all that out the window.”
Celestia took a scone from a tray as Luna leaned forward, hooves steepled under her chin: “How so?”
Reaper turned toward Luna: “You recall a pony’s entire dream history, right?”
Luna nodded.
“In my case, I only ever see that final flash of consciousness as a pony passes from life to death. But in the case of those who were pulled into the Void, from my perspective, they never completed the death process.”
Celestia raised an eyebrow: “Surely they died as Grey Thorn did whatever it was he was doing with that thing of his, yes?”
“But as that began, they disappeared behind the fields and barriers of the Void. So they essentially existed in a state of suspended death for years, decades, centuries, however long any specific individual spirit had been trapped.”
Luna’s eyebrows raised: “And so their death visions, too, never ended!”
“Exactly. And as those twenty-three doomed spirits--or what was left of them, anyway--emerged from the Void, I caught each one’s entire history in one, overwhelming flood.”
“Their whole life?”
Reaper shook his head: “No, nothing from before the time they died, just from the moment they began the death act, and the next few seconds--”
He shrugged: “And the next several million seconds after that! Needless to say I’m going to be unpacking for a while!”
Luna smiled: “I can well imagine! But how does this tie back to my sister’s question?”
Reaper chewed his lip for a moment: “So after Green Streak passed on, I waited for a bit, then watched Grey Thorn as a colt climb through the hole.”
“Bramble?”
“Right. And again, I absorbed the full vision from his ten centuries in the Void.”
He leaned back and stared at the ceiling for a moment as Celestia pushed her chalice aside and prepared a cup of tea. Luna picked up a scone: “And?”
“In no way do I want to understate what Grey Thorn did, nor do I want to separate Bramble from his liability, nor claim that somehow he was ‘as much a victim as any of the others.’ However, that being said, this fragment of Grey Thorn was originally the youngest piece of him, dating to a time before he began to become obsessed with death, before he started to darken.”
Luna nodded: “I can actually recall some dreams of his as a foal and young colt. They were normal enough, showing a strong streak of curiosity.”
“Sure, and then he went underneath Starswirl’s wards and guards and disappeared.”
Celestia furrowed her brow: “Are you saying…?”
Reaper shook his head: “No, I’m not blaming Starswirl--not really--though that old warlock had a knack for causing as much harm as good. No, it’s just that at the time Bramble began to spend all his time helping Starswirl in his secret rooms. He vanished from the streets and the dreamscape.”
“And by the time he was older…”
“Right. He had cloaked himself and was taking over a lot of his old mentor’s research. He was really becoming the Grey Thorn we know.”
Luna nodded sadly: “That said, it still does not answer the question as to why a bit of him was allowed final release, instead of being reunited with his former self.”
“I saw throughout the visions of the twenty-three who were there at the end with him, a steady stream of him helping, guiding, sympathizing. In conjunction with ‘Gil,’ he kept that defensive compound of theirs viable for a thousand years.”
Reaper leaned back: “And at the end he was prepared to sacrifice what little was left of him to give his fellow prisoners a chance to escape intact.”
He chewed his lip for a moment: “He paid his price.”
Luna smiled coolly: “And what remains of him in Tartarus will pay the rest, I presume.”
“I assume that tattered, pallid shred down there will spend the rest of eternity mired in regret and anguish and self-loathing.”
Celestia nodded briskly, nostrils flared: “Good.”
Reaper leaned forward and crossed his forelegs on the table: “But enough about him--I’d like to discuss some kind of a memorial for the lost.”
“What do you mean?”
Reaper turned to Luna: “The twenty-three--twenty-four, really, if we include Bramble--are accounted for. I have their death visions, and they went on. But the hundreds who were lost are known to me only in the death visions of those final two dozen.”
Luna nodded: “And in their dreams prior to being taken by the Void. I understand. What do you have in mind?”
“We need to sit down in the dreamscape over the coming months and years and flesh-out their narratives, build some sort of memorial to their memories.”
“Agreed. I am particularly interested in knowing more about this ‘Gil.’ I am having a hard time pinning him down.”
Reaper closed his eyes for a few moments, then leaned toward Luna: “Touch my horn.”
Luna tipped her head down and pressed her indigo horn against Reaper’s. Her eyes fluttered for several seconds: “Ah! ‘Virgil!’ Yes, I see. I recall now many of his dreams.”
She furrowed her brow: “A great deal of drink seems to have been involved… Still, it is a shame he was lost, but at least we can keep some semblance of his memory alive.”
Reaper smiled: “And I’m sure Zecora can fill us in on additional details once you’ve had a chance to debrief her.”
Celestia nodded: “And tell us of that alien being you’ve mentioned, Luna.”
“I’m very interested in knowing more about that, too! And speaking of Zecora, how long do you anticipate her--and Twilight, for that matter--remaining in their enforced slumbers?”
Luna took in a deep breath and tapped her chin: “Another three days, I should think, then I will awaken them for a time. They will need to go back to sleep shortly thereafter, but this will give them a chance to have a bite to eat, and to reorient themselves.”
Celestia stiffened: “‘Reorient.’ Twilight…”
Reaper smiled sympathetically: “I understand your trepidation, Celestia. We’re just going to have to see what we see over the coming weeks and months.”
Luna nodded as she stood: “Agreed. And now I will return for a bit to check on my charges, and consult with the Royal Surgeon.”
She nodded to Reaper and her sister and disappeared in blue-white flash.
Reaper rose: “I’ll check-in in three days, then, at least to see Twilight for a moment. You all are likely going to need to make some introductions for me with Zecora!”
Celestia looked up from her teacup and smiled wanly.
“You’ll get through this, Princess--I know it won’t be easy for you, but you will get through it.”
Reaper faded away, leaving Celestia alone as the sun broke over the garden wall and poured into the silent solarium.
“I hope you’re right…”
Zecora slowly opened her eyes as a weak beam of cool, blush-white light broke through a chink in the crumbling walls and roof of her hut, and fell across her face.
She struggled to sit, and squinted in the dark, dust filled space: “Gil? Kla’atra?”
Please join me outside.
“Luna, are you with me now? / If I still live I know not how!”
Zecora furrowed her brow and rose slowly and unsteadily to her hooves. She walked slowly across the cracked, uneven floor, making for the dark, sagging exit. She reached out and touched the icy, black film that seemed to block her way.
You have but to but press forward and I will meet you on the other side. There is no need to fear.
Zecora bit her lip, closed her eyes and stepped through the doorway. A thrill ran along her spine, and she dropped to her knees. She slowly opened her eyes and saw a rolling meadow, bathed in the last, red-and-orange rays of sunset. The full moon hovered high above.
She looked behind her and saw nothing but meadow, now; the hut was gone. She heard a soft rustle and turned back. Luna stood there, folding in her wings, silhouetted against the glowing horizon.
Zecora smiled: “I am very happy to see you! Where are we? The last thing I remember, Gil and Kla’atra were carried away and consumed by the Vacuum.”
“I put you into a deep slumber--nearly a coma--in order to protect your bruised and traumatized mind. You have remained thus for almost three days, while doctors attended to your numerous injuries.”
“I see. And is it time for me to awaken, now?”
“Yes. You sustained a variety of internal injuries, and lost a fair amount of blood, but the Surgeon believes it would be best if you were now conscious and able to take some sustenance.”
“And then what?”
Luna tipped her head sideways: “What do you mean?”
“I mean, will I be allowed to return to Everfree? Is the mission complete? Am I in danger?”
“No, not at all. The Void is destroyed, and your mission is complete. You may return home as soon as the Royal Surgeon and I feel you are ready--perhaps a week.”
Zecora smiled: “I shall be happy to see my home again--though I’m sure the entire area is overgrown by now!”
“Well, I am sure some help can be arranged during your convalescence.”
Luna closed her eyes as the space around her and Zecora began to brighten and distort. Zecora’s vision blurred, and she was overcome by a wave of nausea, as a low murmur of voices filled her head.
Her eyes fluttered open, then squeezed shut as her stomach lurched. She retched weakly into a pan, which was whisked away as a nurse wiped her mouth with a warm cloth and pressed a cup of tea to her lips.
“She’s awake!”
“Please drink this, Zecora.”
Zecora’s eyes slowly focused on a pair of faces hovering in the haze above her. She swallowed and wiped a shaky hoof across her mouth: “L-Luna? Am I truly awake? / I’m not sure how much more I can take!”
Luna leaned forward with a gentle smile: “You are indeed awake, Zecora, and once more fully in the land of the living!”
Zecora nodded slowly as a nurse helped her into a reclined position and gave her more tea. The zebra’s eyes swept the room, then stopped.
“Noble! I’m so relieved to see / that you did not fall after me!”
Noble Steel stepped forward toward the side of the bed as the nurse moved aside: “No, though it was damn close! If Twilight hadn’t showed up when she did, we’d have all been goners!”
Zecora took another sip of tea: “How fared the rest in our party of five? / Did they also make it out alive?”
Noble sighed and chewed his lip for a moment: “Obviously we lost Solar, and Shatter got busted-up pretty badly. She’s on the mend, but it’s going to be a while.”
Zecora furrowed her brow: “Smudge?”
“No.”
Zecora closed her eyes.
“It was her death that summoned Twilight, so at least it wasn’t pointless, like poor Solar.”
He blinked away a tear and summoned a sad smile: “And now she can go wherever warriors go when they die…”
Celestia stepped into the room and her eyes went wide as she saw Zecora propped-up, sipping vegetable broth and eating a cracker: “Zecora! I’ve been worried sick! I know it was for the best that you stay in that deep sleep, but I was never entirely sure you would wake back up!”
She gestured to Noble: “I see you’ve been catching-up with the Lieutenant.”
Zecora smiled wearily as Celestia moved beside Luna, and reached out with a gold-shod hoof. The zebra took the Princess’ hoof: “I’m very pleased to see your face as well / After some rest I’ve quite a tale to tell!”
Celestia nodded: “I’m sure you do! Luna’s given us all some sense of it, and I guarantee we’ll all be riveted when the time comes, but--”
She stepped aside as the attending physician, a slim, ochre unicorn, maneuvered around her, bearing a tray with dressings and medicines.
“--that will clearly have to wait! The Royal Surgeon asked me to keep our first encounter brief.”
Zecora nodded and quaffed a proffered vial as the doctor took her vitals.
Noble smiled and moved toward the door: “I’ll see you soon, Zecora--sleep well!”
Luna leaned down, horn glowing faintly: “I can assure you of that. I will now return you to a deep sleep, though not as deep as the slumber you just left. You will dream, this time, and I will visit you later tonight.”
Zecora swallowed and closed her eyes as the doctor pulled up a blanket, tucking it beneath the zebra’s chin. A thin, silver ribbon emerged from Luna’s horn.
“Thank you Princess for all your aid / this time dreams will not make me afraid!”
Her head tipped to the side as her breathing deepened. Luna stood silently for a few moments as the nurses tidied and turned down the lights.
She sighed heavily: “And now for my other charge…”
Luna saluted the guard at the door to Twilight’s room, and stepped inside. She nodded to the duty nurse: “How is she?”
The nurse looked at her notes: “Vitals are good, and we just pulled the IV in anticipation of your arrival. She was last bathed roughly five hours ago.”
“Thank you. Please leave the room now, and close the door behind you.”
“Your Highness?”
Luna took a deep breath: “I am uncertain as to the Princess’ state of mind, and do not wish any others to be at...risk , if she becomes agitated.”
The nurse furrowed her brow, put down her clipboard, bowed and left the room. The door shut behind her with a ‘click.’ Luna pulled up a stool and sat beside the bed, regarding Twilight’s lined, twitching face.
Luna cast a shield over the bed as a ribbon snaked its way from her horn to Twilight’s. She closed her eyes.
“Twilight.”
She pushed her horn’s illumination to its maximum, barely lighting the area in which she was sitting.
“Twilight.”
“Please leave me.”
“Twilight, it is time for you to awaken. The doctor would like--”
The empty space was suddenly flooded by a harsh, white light. Twilight lay a few yards away, broken, bleeding, smeared with filth and ichor, struggling for breath: “Please leave me.”
Luna stood and walked over: “I understand your despair, Twilight. Reaper also understood your despair, which is why he showed you mercy and--”
Twilight lurched to her three remaining hooves, splattering the floor with blood and shit: “Mercy?! How is this mercy?”
Luna blinked slowly: “This is your doing. You have chosen to express your rage and anguish in this form. He denied you death, but did not consign you to this form.”
Twilight hung her head: “I know. I-I just don’t know how else to look, now; this is how everypony will see me--broken and grotesque.”
“I do not see you that way. You saved Zecora’s life; I can assure you she will not see you that way.”
Twilight began to tremble, and sank to her knees: “Noble...Celestia… Oh, Luna--Celestia!”
Luna smiled sadly: “It is true that my sister will need time to come to terms with all that has happened over the last few days.”
She knelt next to Twilight and lifted the young alicorn’s chin: “However, I am familiar with both my sister’s rage and her mercy, just as I am familiar with both my own past darkness and self-loathing. You will have to deal with all of these; it will take time.”
Twilight’s brow furrowed as tears dripped from her cheeks: “Deep Time…”
“Well, not so much time as that , surely. I also feel confident it will not take a thousand years, but it will be a process . And as for Noble, it was he who brought you back to us, full of concern. He has been by several times to check on your progress.”
Luna reached up with a hoof and wiped away a tear: “Surely not the actions of a pony filled with disgust.”
Twilight shuddered violently: “That’s because none of them truly know what I did. Nopony else knows I drained the lifeforce out of another creature! Nopony else knows that I tasted the essences of other ponies! Nopony else knows..."
“Then do not tell them.”
“But…”
“Would it make any difference? Can you undo any of it now? Is there even a remote chance of it happening again?”
“No.”
“Do I know what you did? Do you believe I understand its gravity?”
Twilight looked away: “Yes.”
“Did Reaper--knowing the ramifications better than all of us--leave you to rot in Tartarus, or slay you?”
“No.”
Luna stood and straightened her wings: “Then your only concern is with Celestia. No other pony needs know what you felt or experienced or did.”
Twilight took a deep shuddering breath and wobbled to her hooves with Luna’s help: “I understand. But how am I supposed to process it? How can I get past what I did, what I became?”
Luna smiled sadly: “I have a fair amount of experience with that. I am sure you and I will have many a session in the months to come.”
She stepped back and spread her wings as her horn began to glow: “Come--it is time to wake up.”
Twilight slowly opened her eyes, and smiled weakly as Luna’s face came into view: “H-hi…”
Luna stepped up and helped Twilight recline against the headboard, fluffing pillows and adjusting the blankets. She summoned a cup of pale wine from a side table: “Take a sip--but slowly! I will summon an attendant to bring a bit of food. You must be famished.”
“Yeah, I-I guess. I’m just so numb…”
Luna opened the door and stuck her head out for a moment. She returned and closed the door: “Somepony will bring food shortly. Additionally, I asked that Celestia and Noble be informed that you are now awake.”
Twilight bit her lip: “Are-are you sure they should--”
She stopped and peered into a darkened corner; Luna followed suit.
Reaper stepped out of the corner: “How are you feeling, Princess?”
Twilight shuddered and turned to Luna: “Can you get me some tea?”
Luna nodded and lifted Twilight’s wine glass away.
Twilight closed her eyes as her ears drooped: “I feel terrible, I’m hungry, I have a headache, and I wish I was dead. I know I should thank you for knocking me out instead of killing me, but I can’t. I just can’t…”
Reaper smiled: “You summed that up quite succinctly, Twilight!”
Luna lowered a cup of tea into Twilight’s hooves: “I don’t know where to start. I mean, when you died, it cleaned the slate, yes? And when Luna died on Kur and literally left a piece of herself behind, it wiped her slate, too.”
Twilight took a shaky sip: “So how do I rebuild? How do I get clean again? Luna told me not to bring up what happened, what I had done, to others, that you four knowing was enough.”
“Sound advice.”
“Fine. But I’ll know! How can I live with that?”
She turned to Luna with pain in her eyes: “And you’ve already helped so much! I know you’ll help more, but you can’t scrub away the stain. You can’t make that...taste…”
She stopped and stared into her cup.
Reaper sat on a stool next to the bed: “It’s like the death visions you carry, Twilight--you’ll never entirely be rid of them, or your sense of guilt and shame. But you can work a little every day to reinforce life and growth and, yes, friendship. Get back to doing what you’re meant to do, let time heal you a bit. Let Luna guide your dreams into cleansing paths--”
“I’m scared of that.”
Luna smiled: “I am sure you are. Do you recall the Tantabus? I am all-too-familiar with the dark power of dreams gone awry. I will help you avoid such pitfalls.”
She filled a wine glass for herself: “And it is just as important that you dream of enriching, uplifting, life-affirming things, too--not merely avoid the dark! A bit of fancy and fantasy, spice and sweat would do you good, after all these months of grimness and pain.”
The door opened and Celestia stepped in tentatively, followed by a nervous Noble, bearing a tray of fruit and biscuits.
Reaper stood and stepped back, gesturing from Celestia to the stool: “Please, Celestia--take a seat!”
Celestia chewed her lip for a moment as her gaze darted from the stool to Twilight. Twilight grimaced and squeezed her eyes shut: “It’s okay, Princess, I understand. I wouldn’t want to sit near me, either.”
Celestia tucked in her wings and set carefully on the stool: “I won’t lie, Twilight--this is not easy for me, and I’m sure it won’t be easy for some time to come.”
“No…”
“That said, I will get through this. I have made grave mistakes over the centuries, seen my own sister fall into darkness, have reconciled and forgiven. What you did shook me to my core, but I have spent three days talking to Luna and Reaper, and there will be more to follow, I’m sure. I can get beyond this, given time. Can you?”
Twilight opened her eyes, brimming with tears: “I-I don’t know. I-I begged Reaper to end me, to end the pain, end the shame, I--”
“I know, and I’m glad he didn’t. I also spoke at length with Lieutenant Steel, who brought his own, far more mortal perspective to what happened.”
Twilight turned to Noble: “You watched me break...and…”
Noble stepped to the foot of the bed and locked eyes with Twilight: “Yes--yes I did. And I didn’t see stain or shame or evil, I saw pain and terror in the eyes of a pony hardly much younger than I am! You’ve shouldered so much over the last three years, to say nothing of the last few months, that I can’t begin to conceive how you’ve kept yourself together.”
Twilight’s lip quivered as Noble moved around the side of the bed, setting the tray on a side table: “You stumbled at the end and paid a terrible price--I get that. But you can’t let Grey Thorn and that thing of his claim one more victim--you’re stronger than that. You’re worth more than that!”
Luna smiled at Noble and turned toward: “Well said, Lieutenant! Your pain will fade, given time, leaving a scar, but not a shadow. Weep for your loss of innocence, then wipe your eyes and move on, knowing that there are many who love you, who will help you up when you fall.”
She turned and nodded to Celestia: “Even if that fall takes you to unplumbed depths.”
Celestia smiled and stood: “Agreed. This has been a trial for all of us, but in the end, everything has been laid to rest: Grey Thorn, his creation, the table, the last of the poor, entrapped spirits. You and I both have some things left to resolve, but those can wait for another day. For now, we should go so you can get some rest.”
Twilight looked at Noble and tipped her head: “Did you really visit me every day?”
Luna raised an eyebrow: “Every day? I believe every few hours might be more accurate!”
Noble blushed: “I was worried. I wanted to help in any way I could. Still do, if there’s anything I can do!”
Twilight chewed her lip for a moment as Celestia opened the door and gestured for Luna to join her. Noble smiled at Twilight and turned to join the Princesses.
Reaper began to fade as a nurse pulled the door shut behind the other exiting ponies. Twilight sat up: “Reaper--wait.”
He paused and turned back to Twilight, who had pulled her cover tight to her chest. She was looking down at its pale, floral print with damp eyes.
“What is it, Twilight? Do you need something? Let me get an attendant...”
“No. I-I…”
Reaper stood still and watched Twilight chew her lip and twist the blanket.
“I-I’m sorry.”
“For?”
“I thought I could understand death, that I could trap it and study it. But in the end all I did was pervert it, betray it, betray you. I was so stupid…”
Her voice trailed away to a hoarse whisper.
Reaper smiled: “Yes, you were.”
Twilight turned her red-rimmed eyes up to face Reaper’s, brow furrowed.
“You’re a kid. A kid with enormous power and talent and wisdom beyond your years, but still a kid. You saw a puzzle you were just sure nopony else had approached the way you could, and you did what you always do: you pushed and worked and thought harder than anypony else.”
“But…”
Reaper nodded: “Exactly--but. But against death and entropy that all falls away. I’ve been doing this job now for over five-thousand years, and I have perceived maybe a single grain of sand as it fell through the infinite Cosmic hourglass. You haven’t even seen the dust from that grain of sand, and you won’t for centuries to come.”
“I’m sorry…”
Reaper straightened his cloak and sword: “I know you are, and you should be--for a time. But get through it, get past it, make up for it by helping ponies live their best, brief lives. Don’t let your sorrow trap you in the past. You can’t go back to the past and fix it, so you have to move beyond it.”
Twilight sniffled and grinned: “Can’t I?”
Reaper grinned back: “No, you can’t, smart-ass--I pitched the mirror into the Pit!”
Twilight’s eyebrows jumped, then she smiled sadly and laid back against her pillows.
Reaper pulled her covers up over her chest and dimmed the bedside lamp before fading-out: “Sweet dreams, kiddo.”
Twilight’s eyes drifted shut.
...please let me be clean again
Because I Could not Stop for Death
Twilight and Moondancer lay on their bed, horns glowing and pulsing, hind legs entwined, rubbing and grinding their damp mounds together, nipples stiff and ruddy.
Twilight panted and leaned in, nibbling at Moondancer’s ear and neck: “I-I’m so glad all that craziness is over! You have no idea how long I’ve waited to get back to bed!”
Her lover exhaled luxuriously: “I’ve missed this, too, Twi! I’ve gotten really tired of taking care of myself!”
Twilight grinned: “Well you’re going to have to wait your turn! I’m the one who just went through a traumatic experience, after all! I need you to charge me up!”
Moondancer rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically: “Fine! I’ll do my duty, your Highness!”
Twilight laughed, flopped over onto her back, and brusquely pushed Moondancer’s face down her abdomen: “That’s more like it!”
Moondancer’s eyes glittered as she ran her mouth slowly down Twilight’s chest, licking and nibbling, pausing as she dropped below her belly, biting and sucking at Twilight’s erect nipples.
Twilight gasped and arched her back, letting her quivering legs spread as Moondancer slipped down between her loins, breathing in the musk, teasing the dark folds with the tip of her tongue.
Twilight’s nostrils flared as her breath came in short bursts: “Oh-oh okay! Th-the horn thing I showed you! Oh, sweet stars and moon, do the thing with your horn!”
Moondancer slid her forelegs under Twilight’s hips as her horn began to glow and radiate a gentle heat. She leaned in and slipped the tip between Twilight’s glistening folds.
Then she stopped, furrowed her brow and tried again.
Twilight bit her lip and writhed in delicious agony: “Do-don’t tease! Just--oh, please!”
“Umm, I can’t…”
“Wha-what?”
“It won’t go in, and now there’s some sort of glyph or charm sealing you shut.”
Twilight pulled her forelegs in against her sides and propped herself up so she could look down between her legs. She squinted at Moondancer’s upturned face.
Moondancer shrugged and pointed to a glowing, golden symbol, hovering just above Twilight’s sex: “See?”
A sharp buzz split the air, startling both mares. Moondancer shimmered and faded as the room was washed away in a blaze of white light. The buzzing grew louder.
Twilight cracked an eye open and glared at the alarm on the whitewashed nightstand, announcing the time as seven o’clock. The buzzing continued.
She lashed out with a hoof, smashing the clock: “Three. Damn. Nights of this!”
She sat up, yanking a damp hoof from between her legs, throwing the twisted sheets aside, wiping the beads of sweat from her brow. She slid off the edge of the bed and took a wobbly step toward the bathroom.
Twilight chewed her lip as she stepped into the cool, tiled room and started the shower: “Maybe I can talk to Luna. No, I don’t know...”
She stepped into the shower as steam filled the room.
Reaper phased-in near the outdoor entrance to Celestia’s solarium, and looked through the glass, noting that the other five attendees were already present, chatting and taking tea.
He grinned: “I wonder if I announced myself as ‘the Late Reaper’ if that would be a bit too on-the-nose?”
He opened the door and stepped inside, bearing left so as to keep maximum distance between himself and Zecora.
Luna glanced at Zecora’s drooped ears and wide eyes and stood: “Good morning, Reaper! Please, come sit by me!”
Reaper slowly worked his way behind Twilight and Noble as Celestia moved closer to Zecora and placed a gold-shod hoof over the zebra’s trembling foreleg.
Zecora furrowed her brow and glanced at Reaper: “I hope you will not think me rude / if with you here I seem subdued!”
Reaper adjusted his cloak and sat down with a smile: “I know we’ve never met, Zecora, so your discomfort is understandable. I won’t tell you to ‘just ignore me,’ but I assure you my presence gets a little less daunting as time goes by.”
He nodded to Celestia: “Isn’t that right, Princess?”
She grimaced: “You’re definitely an acquired taste.”
Luna smiled at Zecora: “I know Reaper would be very interested in speaking with you sometime regarding your memories of Gil and Bramble, and especially Kla’atra.”
Reaper nodded: “Yes--I have something of an interest in how the Void came to be, and the bits of your story I’ve heard second-hoof have me intrigued.”
Zecora’s eyes darted back and for the between Reaper and Luna as she tapped a hoof nervously on the table: “I’ll be glad to tell you many tales / if on your patience I might avail!”
Reaper smiled: “Of course! There’s no hurry, and we can meet any time and any place you’re comfortable. Bring somepony with you, if that makes it better.”
Luna turned to Reaper: “I actually have a thought on this topic--we could use Dux’a’s baths. They are a tightly-controlled, private bit of the dreamscape, and your effect should be attenuated, as long as I am present.”
“Whatever works for Zecora. Like I said, anytime, anyplace, with anypony in attendance.”
Celestia smiled and poured Zecora more tea: “Have you and Twilight had a chance to catch-up? I suspect you each have many questions for the other.”
Zecora took a sip and shook her head: “No--we’ve both been under constant care / and haven’t had the time to spare.”
Twilight nodded: “Between the Royal Surgeon and her psychiatrist sidekick, and my attempts to get some sort of narrative roughed-out, I’ve rarely been out of my room.”
Luna raised an eyebrow: “And you have not been sleeping well as a result.”
Twilight took a drink of cider and chewed her lip for a moment: “There are multiple reasons for that…”
“I understand. Perhaps the three of us could meet for a time this evening, and you and I can introduce Zecora to the Baths. It might help relieve some stress.”
Twilight’s eyes flickered toward Noble for a moment: “Stress…”
Noble looked up from his plate with a raised eyebrow. He swallowed and straightened up: “So other than debriefings and narratives, is everything laid to rest, so to speak?”
Reaper took a deep breath and let it out slowly: “I think so. The twenty-three plus Bramble are accounted for, Grey Thorn will likely spend eternity in Tartarus, Zecora and Twilight are on the mend, the table is destroyed, and Grey Thorn’s mirror is gone, as it the Void itself.”
“Yeah, what about that? What finally became of it?”
“It’s sitting at the very edge of what I call the Last Horizon. That’s the vanishing point beyond the Waiting Room where spirits depart this world.”
Celestia furrowed her brow: “Just sitting there? Is there any risk?”
Twilight laid her ears down and stared into her cup.
Reaper glanced at Twilight: “No. Nopony but me can get into the Waiting Room anymore. The Void’s just lying there, a ruined husk, a cold, silent monument to folly. Zecora indicated there may be remains of Green Streak and Top Cover in there somewhere; I’ll take a look. If I find anything I’ll bring it back out for proper burial.”
Celestia nodded: “We can ask nothing more.”
Luna tipped her head slightly to one side: “What became of the mirror, exactly?”
“I pitched it into the Pit. And since I had used the last of my stallion blood to highlight glyphs and runes on the Void, there’s literally no trace of mortal me left.”
Twilight raised an eyebrow.
Celestia sat back and drained her cup: “Well, that seems to have resolved everything, then. Noble, I know Captain Shatter is interested in seeing a report from you, and--”
She turned coolly toward Twilight: “I will be interested in seeing your recollections as well.”
Twilight smiled weakly: “Yes, Princess.”
Celestia stood and gestured toward Luna: “It sounds like you three have plans for the evening, and I have matters to attend to, so I bid you all a good morning!”
Zecora stood and turned toward the door leading to the garden: “Your garden seems so bright and fair / may I please take my tea out there?”
Celestia smiled and magically opened the door: “By all means! I’ll send an attendant out in a minute with a fresh tray!”
Zecora bowed and walked through the door into the sunlight, mane bouncing in the breeze.
Noble drained his cup, stepped back from the table and bowed: “Well, I guess I’ll get started on that report. Your Highnesses...”
Twilight bit her lip, then stepped briskly around the table, blocking Noble’s path: “First, I need you to come with me, Steel--you’re going to help me get rid of something that’s been haunting me now for months!”
Noble glanced between the three alicorns in confusion: “I...don’t understand. How can I help?”
She sidled next to the unicorn and draped a wing over his shoulder: “Reaper took care of his blood, now we’re going to take care of mine!”
Twilight teleported Noble and herself away in a bright, violet flash.
Celestia furrowed her brow and looked at Luna: “What was that all about? ‘Blood?’ Is Noble in any danger?”
Reaper grinned: “No, though I’m sure he’s in for a bit of a shock!”
“I--I still don’t understand…”
Luna’s eyebrows suddenly jumped as she turned to Reaper: “Her blood! Virgin’s blood!”
Reaper chuckled: “Not for much longer!”
Celestia sighed: “Maybe it will be good for both of them. I know prolonged stress, life-and-death situations, combat, things like that can lead to heightened...tensions .”
Reaper nodded: “Well, I’m sure we’ll know soon enough. In the meantime, Luna would you mind if I joined you three in the Baths briefly this evening? I’d like to see if you’re right and I can use that space to chat with Zecora--at a much later date, of course!”
“Not at all. I will look for you there.”
Reaper bowed and faded away.
As Celestia turned to leave, Luna cleared her throat and caught her sister’s eye: “Might we chat for a moment?”
Celestia moved back to the table and pulled out a chair for them both: “Certainly!”
Luna sat and poured a new cup of tea, slowly, silently and deliberately. Celestia watched her fidget with the tea for a long minute: “Is something wrong? You seem distracted.”
Luna chewed her lip and glanced at Celestia, before looking away: “On the heels of what just transpired between Twilight and Noble, I have a question of some delicacy, and I am a bit embarrassed to bring it up.”
Celestia raised an eyebrow: “Embarrassed?’ Now I’m intrigued! You’re almost never embarrassed!”
She poured herself a cup of tea and continued: “For Harmony’s sake, you gave me a blow-by-blow account of your weeks on Kur and didn’t bat an eye, even as I was blushing to death half the time!”
Luna took a deep breath and nodded: “Interesting you should bring that up. I would appreciate it if…”
“Yes?”
Luna swallowed apprehensively: “If you would explain the logistics of your ‘Honored Consorts,’ and assist me with a selection process.”
A light smile spread across Celestia’s face, and she set down her cup: “Of course, sister! I would be glad to help with that!”
Luna sighed and smiled shyly and finally sipped her tea.
Reaper phased into the Waiting Room, sat down, closed his eyes and reached out with his mind. His eyes moved rapidly beneath their lids as his head sank forward.
He opened his eyes slowly, stood and peered down the dim hallway, lit by oil-lamp sconces. He heard voices coming from around a corner, and walked slowly forward, stopping just before passing under a low doorway. He cocked an ear.
“Wait, even though it was your first time, you had to explain how to touch--”
“Ladies--hush! We have a spy in our midst!”
Reaper grinned and entered the bath chamber: “Luna! Now, you know my gender expression is just an affectation. I take no side in the eternal struggle between stallion and mare!”
Luna smiled coolly: “Perhaps, but one cannot be too careful!”
Reaper chuckled and walked around the side of the bath, finally settling on a bench across from the women lounging in the steaming, perfumed water.
He scanned the three figures, noting Twilight’s scarred face and missing hand. He paused at Zecora: “Interesting. You have the same basic coloring as Luna, though your white-shocked, black hair would have been even more out-of-place on Kur than her hair was!”
Zecora lifted her arms out of the water, turning them over, flexing her fingers: “Yes--this is a very different kind of body. I’m not sure what I think of going about on only two legs!”
Luna sighed: “It was definitely a learning experience for me...”
Zecora tipped her head and regarded Reaper: “Why are you in pony form? Should you not also have the form here that you had on your old world?”
“I’ve retained my pony aspect here for two reasons: first, this is who I truly am. The man I was died twice on Kur, and good riddance. And second, I strongly suspect that were I to appear in my Kurlin form, it might lead to some discomfort .”
Luna shook her head: “I appreciate that, however I assure you that I have come to terms with--”
Reaper tipped his horn toward Twilight: “Not you, Luna--her.”
Twilight raised an eyebrow: “Me, but why? I mean, I don’t even think I know--”
She closed her eyes for a moment.
“Oh! That-that was you! In the visions!”
“Well, strictly speaking it was Gerrar, but yes.”
Twilight shuddered: “Yes--seeing you like that would have been very--wait! Those were real ? Not dreams or visions?”
“They were real. They were memories of the man I once was. I knew I had to shock you, knock you back, and I figured scenes so alien and brutal would disorient you enough for me to land my final, desperate blow.”
Twilight bit her lip and stared down into the water: “Dew Drop…”
“Yes.”
She looked over at Luna with pain in her eyes: “Between the two of you I don’t think I’ll ever be able to eat strawberries again.”
Reaper smiled sadly: “I know, but I did what I had to do. The only being in the world who could defeat you by that point was you, and I had to appeal not to a sense of ponyness or connection to others--you had already started to lose that over the last few days--but to your own self-centeredness.”
“What do you mean?”
“By that point other ponies were already becoming abstractions. I had to make you see what the Void and your connection would mean to you specifically--the smells, the sensations--”
“The taste…”
“Exactly.”
Twilight felt the bile rise in the back of her throat, and waved over Eska. The parzaile poured a cup of wine and settled into the water next to Twilight with a vial of warm oil. She began to work Twilight’s shoulders.
Reaper turned to Zecora: “A question for you, if I may.”
Zecora avoided Reaper’s gaze, but nodded: “Please.”
“So the others have told me about you, and we met briefly this morning; I thought you always rhymed. Why not now?”
Zecora smiled nervously: “I didn’t rhyme in the Void, either.”
“Oh?”
“Gil explained that the Void shared many aspect of the dreamscape. He asked if I always rhymed in my dreams, and I allowed that I did not.”
Luna took a cup of wine for herself and nodded: “I can confirm this: you do not always rhyme. I continue to be disconcerted by how much Grey Thorn clearly knew about the dreamscape.”
“Well he’d had years to study you while working under Starswirl, and centuries to fine-tune after you became Nightmare Moon.”
“True.”
Reaper gestured at Zecora: “I very much wish I’d had the chance to know Gil.”
“It made me sad to see him and Kla’atra destroyed by the Vacuum. I think I could have borne dying if there really had been a way for their spirits to escape the Void with mine at the end. She didn’t belong here--this wasn’t her world or her reality.”
Twilight shook her head: “Knowing the field the containment device generated, and the constraints of the first sacrifice circle, there was no way. All three of you would have been absorbed by the field and snuffed-out.”
Zecora nodded sadly: “That’s what Gil said. Still…”
Reaper adjusted his cloak and sword: “Well, I’ll glean what I can from Bramble’s death vision. And I hope to learn even more about the alien, Kla’atra.”
“I will tell you what I can.”
“That will be most appreciated. Maybe you and Bramble’s vision can also shed some light on a unique happening at the very end.”
“Oh?”
“Never before has a pony left this world with a lesser creature in-tow.”
“Creature?”
“Some sort of root-starfish hybrid thing. It followed behind Bramble and disappeared beyond the Last Horizon.”
“Squish!”
“Squish?”
“That’s what the others called it. They assumed it had come along with the Sentinel when it was extracted from its home bog. I asked about it, and realized none of them had any experience with animals or plants. I assumed it was some sort of larva or fragment of the Sentinel itself.”
“Well somehow it became ennobled and passed on.”
Luna raised an eyebrow: “Is such a thing possible?”
“Absolutely. I know of several dragons born bestial that slowly became ennobled over their very long lives.”
Zecora furrowed her brow: “Hmm. I wonder about the Sentinel, then. Do you think…?”
Reaper glanced at Twilight, whose eyes were now wide. She chewed her lip and began to tremble.
Reaper shook his head: “No. My encounter with the entity inside the Void led me to believe it was still bestial--like a timberwolf or early dragon. Perhaps eventually it might have gotten to that point, but at the end it was still not enoblled. The creature you call Squish must have developed independently.”
Zecora smiled: “I’m glad. It had had some sort of relationship with Bramble for centuries, and seemed to be helping us at the end.”
Reaper closed his eyes for a minute: “Clearly. It actually blocked an attack from that entity and saved Bramble.”
Luna furrowed her brow: “Is it possible that you have a death vision for it as well?”
Reaper’s eyebrows jumped: “An intriguing idea! I’ll have to check and double-check as I unpack the millennia of visions from the twenty-four ponies who escaped. I hope I find something!”
Twilight took a deep drink and furrowed her brow: “If I can be of any help…”
“I’m sure you and I will have several sit-downs over the coming years. For now, you just worry about putting your own pieces back together. Those who know what happened will help.”
He turned to Luna with a wink: “In whatever way they can!”
Luna grinned, Twilight raised an eyebrow: “What?”
Reaper smiled: “I stuck my head into Noble’s quarters just before coming here; I had a question for him.”
Twilight shifted nervously and tapped the edge of her cup against her lower lip.
“He looked like--what’s the expression--like ‘he’d been ridden hard and put away wet!’”
Twilight blushed as Zecora and Luna chuckled.
Reaper stood: “And since I believe that’s roughly where I came in, I will bid you ladies a good night.”
He walked toward the exit and nodded toward Zecora: “I look forward to speaking again with you sometime.”
She winced: “That still has a dark undertone to it!”
Reaper smiled sadly as he passed through the doorway: “Occupational hazard, I’m afraid.”
He walked slowly down the dim, twisting corridor, emerging finally from the bath’s front doors. He turned and sat down in the niche beside the caryatid column and scanned the surrounding porch, now bathed in the last rays of sunset.
Luna appeared next to him, swathed in a silver-trimmed, indigo robe: “I finished out the entrance just for you.”
Reaper smiled: “The attention to detail is fantastic--you’ve really outdone yourself! If you put this much effort into that pocket dreamscape you created back on Kur, then Gerrar’s even luckier than I thought.”
Luna turned the robe’s sash over in her hands and smiled softly: “I assumed this place would see extensive use. It only seemed right to lavish attention on a setting that must do double duty as a place of relaxation, and of painful recollection.”
“For you and Twilight, both.”
“Yes.”
Reaper chewed his lip for a moment: “What about Zecora?”
Luna shook her head: “No, she will not require intensive sleep therapy. She already perceives her time in the Void in such a dreamlike manner, that I do not believe it will leave any lasting pain or shadow. A return to her beloved forest is best for her.”
“I understand. And I hope a return to familiar surroundings and duties will likewise be beneficial to Twilight.”
“We shall see.”
Reaper rose and gestured at the porch: “Again, thank you for this. It’s a fitting reminder of our time on Kur--both good and bad.”
Luna stood and nodded with a smile: “Of course! Will I see you at the castle in the future?”
“Unlikely. I need to return to my duties, and fade back into the shadows.”
He phased away: “But you might see me in a dream, from time to time…”
Luna smiled and turned to re-enter the bath’s doors as the sun’s dying rays glinted off her robe’s sparkling trim. Larg rose, cold and silent, above the roofline.
A tea kettle whistled. Noble Steel rose from his desk and crossed his quarters, stopping in front of the stove, turning off the burner. He poured hot water into a teapot, set the dark-blue pot on a tray with a cup and milk, and returned to his walnut-brown desk.
He sat down, moving aside a picture, dated three years earlier, of Zecora and her team assembled in the caverns beneath Canterlot Castle.
He poured a cup and blew on it as he browsed through the morning’s reports. Suddenly he froze as a thrill ran down his spine. He carefully placed his cup back on its saucer.
“I was wondering when you’d finally show up.”
Reaper stepped out of the shadows: “I’ve been busy.”
Noble turned to his right: “For three years?”
Reaper smiled: “Very busy.”
“And here I thought maybe you’d forgotten about me, and I could just quietly live out my days as an immortal.”
“To be honest, I should have reaped you the day I got back from Kur--you and Shatter both. Twilight broke the rules, and I should have set things aright then.”
“Why didn’t you?”
Reaper took a deep breath and gazed at the ceiling for a moment: “I had a sense you might have more to do, and honestly, your service--then and later--earned you a bit of a reprieve.”
Noble smiled sadly: “Well, I appreciate it. I’ve tried to live each day like it was my last, assuming my days were numbered.”
“All ponies’ days are numbered, Captain.”
“True, but I really knew mine were numbered! I tried to live the best I knew how, and help others live the best they could, as well.”
“That’s all anypony can ask, Noble.”
Noble stared into his cup: “I just wish I’d had the chance to see Twilight one more time, to say a proper goodbye. I mean, I just chatted with her over the weekend, but the last time we saw each other was six months ago.”
“Shatter’s funeral.”
“Yeah--there’s one I just couldn’t help. She never really got over Smudge’s death, or her making it out alive.”
Reaper nodded: “Survivor’s guilt.”
“Right. I talked with her over the years, but the drinking just got worse, her moods just got worse, then the accident…”
Reaper blinked slowly: “Yes. Pushed that prosthetic wing too far one too many times, and the recklessness finally caught up with her.”
Noble frowned and drained his cup: “Yeah. Wait--was that you?”
“No. Again, her own behavior finally got ahead of her.”
Noble furrowed his brow: “Suicide?”
“No, just fatalism. I talked with her for a moment in the Waiting Room. She just didn’t really care anymore.”
“I understand.”
Reaper took a step closer; Noble shuddered and put his cup down: “So how’s this gonna go? What will it look like?”
“Ruptured blood vessel at the base of your brain--old injury.”
“From the caverns.”
“Right.”
Noble took a deep breath: “Makes sense. Please tell Twilight goodbye for me.”
“I will. I’d actually thought of letting her know, asking if she wanted to have a final visit, but…”
Noble sucked at his teeth: “No, it’s just as well. It’d have been awkward.”
“My thought exactly. Are you ready to go?”
Noble grinned: “Would it matter if I said ‘no?’”
“No.”
“Worth a shot. Just let me push this tea set aside so I don’t knock it off, or something. I’d hate to leave a mess behind.”
Reaper smiled and drew his sword, stepping up behind the unicorn, now hunched over his desk, eyes closed. The blade rose into the air.
“Time to go wherever warriors go, Captain Noble Steel of the Third Grenadiers.”
“Thank you.”
The blade plunged silently and bloodlessly between Noble’s shoulder blades. He gasped, then slumped forward as his eyes opened slightly, and his mouth went slack.
Reaper bent forward and touched the thin mist with his horn. He stood, arranged Noble’s tipped teacup, and pressed the intercom switch by the picture.
He heard hoofsteps approaching from the hallway, and faded away.
Twilight walked slowly across a well-kept lawn toward a pale-blue, clapboard cottage, pausing for a moment to admire the sunset to the west, turning the sky pink, and sea orange. She walked up the steps to the porch, then the door; she knocked.
A trim, elderly, pale-pink earth pony answered and bowed: “Oh, Princess! Has it been another year already?”
Twilight smiled: “Yes it has Harvest Lily, and this is the tenth year I’ve asked you to please just call me Twilight!”
Lily chuckled: “Well, maybe next year! Please take a seat out on the porch swing and stay as long as you like. Would you care for some tea, or cider perhaps?”
“No, thank you.”
Lily nodded and returned to the cottage, closing the door behind her. Twilight sat on the porch swing and looked out over a neat field of strawberries, nearing harvest. She breathed in the salt air and closed her eyes.
She felt a familiar tingle at the nape of her neck: “Good evening, Reaper.”
“Good evening, Princess. Ten years. How long do you plan to hold this vigil?”
“How long do you plan to hold ponies’ memories? Take a seat, please.”
Reaper adjusted his cloak and sword and sat next to Twilight: “That’s different. That’s my job, my responsibility.”
“Yes, and I’ve taken it upon myself to be responsible for what little bit of Dew Drop remains in the Cosmos--her last shred, her final echo. And when this world goes dark, and I finally go on, I’ll pass it on to you.”
Reaper nodded: “Just don’t let it consume you…”
Twilight took a deep breath: “It won’t. I finally understand that I can’t control death, nor really even understand it. I can just be respectful of its power, and fight as hard as I can to ensure others have the chance to live their best, fullest lives, no matter how brief."
She pulled out a flask from her shoulder bag and took a sip: “Perhaps they shouldn’t be hauled kicking and screaming past that Last Horizon, but maybe they should still drag their hooves a little, and try to squeeze out one last drop.”
Reaper nodded: “Just a heads-up for your next visit--I don’t think old Lily will be here to greet you.”
“Yeah, I figured as much. That’s okay. I’ll shed a tear for her, and all my friends in due course, and let time’s waves wash over me, secure in the knowledge that we’re meant to die--even we ‘immortals,’ and that it’ll all make sense then.”
Reaper grinned: “That’s my girl! If only I actually believed you…”
Twilight shook her head sadly: “I've been practicing that speech for a couple of years now. Not convincing?”
“Try it again in another century. Maybe by then you'll actually believe it yourself.”
Twilight smiled softly: “Maybe. Will I see you again next year?”
“Will you be here next year?”
“Yes.”
“Then, yes.”
They sat in silence for several minutes as the sun sank beneath the waves, filling the sky with bands of blood-red and purple.
Reaper suddenly looked to his left and stood.
Twilight turned her head: “Duty calls?”
“Never fails.”
“Neither do you.”
Reaper smiled as he faded away: “And neither will you.”
Twilight sat for another hour as dusk deepened into night, then stood, bowed toward a small grave near the house, and teleported away in a violet flash.
死
Because I Could not Stop for Death
“Zecora! This is Luna! If you can hear me in your mind or your dreams, know we are making every attempt to free you! Hang on as best as you can!”
Zecora looked up and squinted into the hazy, leaden sky: “Did anypony else hear that?”
Bramble shook his head, and Gil stopped and glanced back: “No--what did you hear?”
“It-it sounded like Luna…”
Gil furrowed his brow: “No, I didn’t hear anything, but I felt the shadow of the Sentinel pass overhead. Can you confirm that, Bramble?”
The colt nodded: “It was moving fast.”
“What could it mean?”
Gil shrugged: “It may not be connected at all, but I’m not a big believer in coincidence. I’ll ponder it for a bit, but first we need to chat with Radiant Dawn.”
He drifted forward and touched his horn to a piece of warped metal plate embedded in a low, sod berm: “Are you in there, Dawn? There’s somepony here I’d very much like you to meet.”
Zecora strained to hear a faint moan coming from beyond the door: “Yes...please come in…”
Gil’s horn glowed for a moment, and the battered metal slid aside, revealing a low, dimly-lit, sunken enclosure, similar to a kiva. Gil gestured for Zecora and Green Streak to enter; they ducked through the entryway and stepped down into the single-room dwelling.
Zecora furrowed her brow as she struggled to locate the source of the thin, raspy voice: “I’m sorry--I can’t see you.”
Gil moved down beside Zecora and pointed with his horn to a faint patch of pale-violet fog or mist: “There’s almost nothing left of the old girl. She’s fought the good fight for some four-hundred years, but it’s just a matter of time before she fades away entirely.”
Radiant Dawn’s voice rose from the vaguely unicorn-shaped mist: “My apologies...I can’t even pull myself together enough to take a proper shape and stand anymore.”
Gil smiled sadly and gestured toward Zecora and Green Streak: “First I’d like you to meet Zecora. There was a great deal of action and turmoil a bit over a day ago, during which our zebra friend here was pulled in through a rift, alive and intact.”
“I--I don’t believe we’ve ever seen anything bigger than some rodents or birds pulled in whole in, well, forever…”
“Correct. And it is my intent--mine and Kla’atra’s--to do our best to get her out of here before she dies of thirst or the Sentinel gets her.”
“I can’t speak to the first...I know the second is awful…”
“Exactly, which is why I’d be very interested in having you talk to our other recent arrival, Green Streak. She was killed and pulled in a few weeks back, and seemed destined to be destroyed in the Swamp.”
Green Streak stepped forward and knelt down beside Radiant’s flickering form: “Yes, ma’am. Then the Sentinel lost its grasp on me, and I slipped to the edge of the Swamp, where--what’s his name?”
The pegasus gestured toward Bramble, who smiled and nodded: “Bramble.”
“Right--Bramble. Sorry. Anyway, he found me and saved me from fading away completely, then brought me back here several hours ago.”
“That-that was very risky…”
“That’s what I was told, and I’m grateful. I mean, I know I’m dead, but at least I’m not gone , and I can still help--if there’s anything I can do.”
Gil nodded: “What you can do is compare notes with Dawn. She’s the only pony left with any experience being drained by the Sentinel in the Swamp. Why don’t you tell her what happened to you, Green Streak?”
The pegasus closed her eyes and furrowed her brow: “I really don’t remember much of anything after I was killed. But eventually, I became aware of an intense cold, like I was submerged in ice water. I was totally alone, and all I knew was that horrible cold.”
Dawn’s form shifted, and appeared to nod weakly: “Yes. The cold. The emptiness. I was alone, and it was as if loneliness had taken on a physical form that was eating me away.”
Green Streak chewed her lip for a moment: “Then I began to see things, like I was looking through a tube.”
Gil raised an eyebrow: “‘Things?’ Like what?”
“I-I would see tunnels and caves and roots, like I was down in the earth.”
“Hmm. Sounds like some sort of memory or dream vision.”
Green Streak shook her head vigorously: “No--I’ve never been underground! Pegasi hate going below ground into mines or caves or whatnot!”
Zecora nodded: “Yes, and you’ve just described several things I myself saw while Twilight and I tried to hunt down the source of various odd attacks.”
She pointed at Green Streak: “We found that the Void’s tendrils were working their way through passages and fissures in the earth, just as you described.”
Gil tapped his chin: “You’re saying she was seeing through the Sentinel?”
“That’s what it sounds like. What else did you see, Green Streak?”
Green Streak took a deep breath: “Bones. The vision would move from place to place, but it usually stopped among bones or other remains.”
Zecora nodded again: “Exactly. Twilight and I encountered ribbons of the Void penetrating bone piles and graves and cemeteries.”
Gil furrowed his brow: “Did you perceive anything else when this happened?”
Green Streak tipped her head to one side and pondered the question for a moment: “It seemed colder, somehow. And it felt like I was being--I don’t really know how to describe it--squeezed or stretched. I felt sick, almost like I’d been poisoned.”
Gil looked down at Dawn’s shade: “None of that sounds familiar.”
Dawn’s thin voice wafted into the air: “No. I rarely felt anything at all, except for a sudden surge of life energy passing, well not exactly through me, but by me. It's how I was finally able to escape--by stealing a bit of that energy as it coursed by, and pushing my way free.”
“Right. That’s in keeping with the way the Sentinel works, as best as we’ve ever been able to determine: it extends itself briefly through the surface of the Vacuum, extracts life energy and filters it through the Swamp for processing.”
Zecora nodded: “But what if it was isolated, trapped, kept from its usual energy source?”
“Then it would have been likely to have been seeking out death’s energy for its sustenance.”
Gil and Zecora turned to see Kla’atra duck beneath the hut’s entrance and step down into the shallow depression.
Gil nodded: “That must be it.”
Zecora furrowed her brow: “I don’t understand. How can something live off death? Isn’t that the opposite of life?”
“Not exactly. Life and death are more like counterparts, each completing the other, each carrying a distant echo of the other at its root.”
Zecora chewed her lip for a moment: “Like new growth springing out of decaying undergrowth.”
Gil smiled: “Something like that, but even more fundamental. That decaying material you mentioned is teeming with life in and of itself. The energies of life and death themselves complete a kind of circuit that will cycle again and again until the Cosmos goes dark.”
Kla’atra’s eyes flashed pale blue for a moment: “Unless there is to be interference from a thing like should be the Vacuum.”
Gil frowned: “Yes, the Vacuum interferes with that, absorbing energy, returning nothing. All it touches is ultimately lost.”
Zecora raised an eyebrow: “Then what is the Vacuum? Isn’t it part of the Sentinel?”
Gil nodded towards Kla’atra: “No. I’ll let Kla’atra help explain the Vacuum--it sort of belonged to her to begin with, after all.”
Kla’atra’s eyes flashed silver as she settled down on two pair of crossed legs: “Yes--the Vacuum was once to have been the core of my ship’s engine.”
“Engine? Didn’t you say your craft moved between the stars? What sort of fuel can be found there?”
“It shall have been a type of device called a Zero-Point Reactor. It could be converting the underlying fluctuations in the Cosmos’ quantum vacuum state into tappable energy.”
Zecora blinked slowly: “I-I don’t really understand…”
Gil chuckled: “Don’t feel bad--It took her decades of teaching me math and physics far beyond anything we know on our world before I could grasp any of this. The long-and-short of it is, there exists in the Cosmos a base energy state of near-but-not-quite zero.”
Gil tipped his head up and a waveform coalesced in the air. The image zoomed in step by step: “And as you approach zero, where the waveform almost ceases, there is both an infinitesimal and nearly-infinite energy potential.”
Kla’atra gestured at the image: “And it was to have been this potential which may have powered my ship. It could also have allowed for me to transcend the dimensional barriers which are to have separated realities.”
“Like Grey Thorn and Starswirl’s mirrors.”
Gil nodded: “Yes, though those are, of course, powered by magic.”
“Is there a difference?”
“Ha! That’s a very perceptive question! In many ways, no--the Yönti manipulate the matter and energy of the Cosmos through sophisticated science that took eons to develop, while the species on our world, born as we were into a veritable bath of magical forces, adapted and learned to manipulate the energy fields around us, naturally.”
Kla’atra leaned forward, eyes flickering pale gold: “We were to have believed long ago that our world, too, would have been bathed in magic. But none of the races of our world ever might have harnessed it at a biological level.”
Gil nodded again: “And so it decayed away, leaving only faint vibrations detectable to their sophisticated science, millennia later.”
Zecora furrowed her brow: “And you said that Grey Thorn found this to be true everywhere he traveled?”
“Correct. He believed our world to be, if not unique, at least incredibly rare.”
Kla’atra gestured toward Gil: “That too, would have been my experience through several centuries of travel. Nowhere would I have encountered anything like the magic this world is to have possessed.”
Gil frowned: “Which made Grey Thorn incredibly dangerous. He could travel to other worlds, other realities, bringing with him a great and unknowable power.”
Kla’atra made a kind of hissing noise: “And then may have ambushed with it…”
Gil smiled sadly: “Yes, I know how that goes, but back to energies of life and death. Even death has a signature--if incredibly faint--and it seems the Sentinel, in its desperation has taken to harvesting it in life’s absence.”
Zecora raised an eyebrow: “Can it subsist off that?”
Gil shrugged: “Apparently, but poorly, I assume. And Green Streak’s experience shows the Sentinel’s been reaching far and wide in an attempt to pull in any energy source it can, no matter how thin or debased.”
Kla’atra nodded: “The Swamp itself were to have contained a fair amount of death--it might be the byproduct of its filtering action, so the Sentinel should not be unused to tapping death’s energy as a last resort.”
Gil continued: “But you’re correct--that’s not nearly enough, and it’s not really properly-attuned to the Sentinel’s needs. And, in the absence of Grey Thorn’s control, it clearly began to break free of not only the Harbinger’s restraints, but its original boundaries.”
Kla’atra tapped her forelimbs together for a moment: “Bramble, how would you have found Green Streak? Would she have struggled free like Dawn, or shall she have been dropped?”
Bramble furrowed his brow for a moment: “Dropped. It almost looked like she’d been shed, though I’ve never seen a spirit shed that far down the Swamp.”
Zecora raised an eyebrow: “Shed?”
Gil nodded: “Occasionally the Sentinel will shed off a bit of its outer layer in response to some growth mechanism. It’s also how depleted spirits are released.”
Zecora chewed her lip: “Perhaps it’s sick. I’ve dealt with many plants and creatures over the years that lose leaves or bark or scales when stressed or ill or poisoned.”
Gil rubbed his chin: “Because of the attacks...because of having to use death energy…”
He turned to Green Streak: “Do you remember being dropped?”
The pegasus closed her eyes and shuddered: “The pressure became unbearable and the things I was seeing suddenly became dim, then went dark. Then I-I don’t know how to describe it.”
She stood and paced nervously: “I became aware of myself again, you know? All the time before I felt like a puppet--I could perceive things, but they weren’t mine to understand or control. Then I heard--is that the right word? Heard a ripping sound, and I became aware of myself again. I was Green Streak, not that puppet-thing, but it was still like a terrible dream. Then Bramble touched me and I woke up.”
Gil nodded: “Yes, in the wrong place, far down the Swamp.”
He stood: “It’s clear that Zecora’s right--the Sentinel is sick, or whatever word you want to use. It’s weakened and acting erratically for the first time in, well, forever and we have an opportunity to move across the fields to the Swamp, I think.”
Kla’atra unfolded her legs and rose, eyes flashing green and gestured toward Zecora, Bramble and Gil: “Yes--there might now be a chance to be taking the fight to the Sentinel. Between the four of us we could be having enough power to overcome it, if briefly.”
Gil chewed his lip: “It’s risky, but if you’re right, Zecora, and Luna has figured a way to contact you, we might just have a chance to coordinate and get you out of here.”
Zecora shouldered her bag, bent down and smiled at Dawn: “Thank you for your help, Dawn. I know there is nothing anypony can do for you, but I wish you well in your final days.”
Dawn’s thin voice floated up from the floor: “I’m just happy somepony has a chance to escape this terrible place…”
Gil stepped up and slid the door aside: “We’ll do our best, Dawn. Hopefully there’ll be enough of us left to return and tell you how it went!”
The five visitors ducked under the entrance and stepped out onto the short, blue-green turf. Gil paused briefly to slide the door shut again.
He didn’t notice Dawn’s final fading.
Because I Could not Stop for Death
Smoke and pain.
Smoke and pain and the smell of seared flesh.
And a scream of agony.
In the dark--a dark my eyes cannot pierce.
And the sound of bare skin slapping skin.
And acrid, choking smoke and pain.
And the fullness of shame and rage buried and thrust inside me.
And a shattering light.
And pain.
And darkness...
Luna sat bolt upright in her bed with a gasp.
“Good evening, Luna. Not sleeping well, I take it?”
Her head snapped to the right and she narrowed her eyes, finally spotting Reaper sitting on a low, padded bench in a dark corner.
She rubbed her eyes and furrowed her brow: “How-how long have you been there?”
Reaper stood, walked to a side table and filled a chalice with water. He levitated it and brought it to Luna: “Not long, maybe two minutes.”
“Why--”
“I came by to see if you’re ready to probe the Void again, and I saw you were restless. I thought it best to wait for you to resolve things before making my presence known.”
Luna drained the heavy chalice and shuddered as she looked at it before setting it aside: “Thank you.”
Reaper sat back down on the bench: “You OK?”
Luna smoothed the blanket absently and looked at the pattern of interlocking diamonds running along its border: “No, and this is not like the Tantabus. This is not a bad dream of my own design run rogue--this is the kind of nightmare ponies have that I am supposed to help them through.”
Reaper nodded: “So who do you turn to?”
Luna glanced again at the chalice and magically tossed an embroidered tea towel over it: “Exactly.”
Reaper leaned back: “Let me guess, as you’ve never really brought it up since our return: it’s Yunada’s tent.”
Luna bit her lip: “Yes. I was only conscious for a few seconds at the end, but that was all it took to fill me with rage and terror and hopelessness.”
She pulled the blanket up and clenched it to her chest: “That was the worst of it--the powerlessness, the humiliation! I--who have fought and struggled and conquered over the centuries, and been defeated in the past only after heroic efforts and mighty magic--I was helpless in the end.”
Reaper raised an eyebrow: “First off, I assume there were at least three men there, yes?”
Luna nodded.
“Second, I’m sure you gave as good as you got for just as long as you could.”
“I kicked and cursed and clawed and spat with every ounce of my being.”
“And third, not to put too fine a point on it, you got your revenge--in spades!”
Luna shook her head: “That was not me. I was merely along for the ride, as it were. I had no more control over that than--”
“Than you had when you were assaulted by superior numbers.”
Reaper stood and walked to the foot of Luna’s bed: “In the end this was largely my fault. If I hadn’t failed to keep the situation under control, Yunada never would have met you.”
Luna shook her head: “The plan unraveled well before that.”
She moved to the edge of the bed and summoned her ornaments, tiara and gorget from a nearby dresser: “In the end the ultimate author of my humiliation is Grey Thorn. If not for him and his monstrous creation neither of us would have had to go to Kur.”
“True.”
Luna began slipping on her hoof coverings, fumbling a bit: “And then I never would have had to go into...into…”
She dropped a covering on the dark marble floor with a sharp ‘clang.’ She hunched forward and sobbed: “Into the dark and the smoke and the melting flesh and that horrible sound and--and…”
Luna slid off the edge of the bed and drew her hind legs in tight against her body, tears running down her cheeks. Reaper knelt beside her and faded out for a moment before re-solidifying. He put a foreleg around her shoulder: “Do you think a dose of your own medicine might help?”
“Wha-what do you mean?”
“Dux’a’s baths. I know that’s been helping Twilight through her trauma; might it do the same for you?”
Luna furrowed her brow: “Per-perhaps. Nahko and Eska are the two finest dream creations I have ever crafted; I may find some respite there, as well. But I cannot truly speak to them about these matters in a way that will help me resolve things. They are interactive, but not insightful.”
“I believe I can help with that.”
Luna looked up to see Celestia entering her sleeping chamber: “Sister? Why are--”
Reaper stood up and stepped aside as Celestia settled in next to Luna, wrapping a wing around her: “Reaper appeared a moment ago and asked me to come.”
Reaper nodded: “I spoke at length with Celestia a few days ago, and I suspect she’s the only being in all our world with the longevity, perspective and love it will take to help you heal.”
Celestia brushed away a tear from Luna’s cheek: “He told me also that these dream baths you created have been having a positive effect on Twilight. Would it be possible for me to join you there? Perhaps together in a safe, secluded retreat of your making, we can find you some closure.”
Luna wiped the back of a hoof across her nose: “Yes. I think that might help--thank you.”
She looked up at Reaper: “Thank you both.”
Reaper knelt again: “I know you’re strong and resilient, Luna, but the kind of trauma you experienced is custom-designed to break down and humiliate even the toughest--trust me.”
Luna furrowed her brow: “Gerrar…”
Reaper nodded.
Celestia raised an eyebrow, and Reaper turned to her with a grim smile: “Some other time. Right now, we need to see if we can get back in touch with Zecora post haste. Twilight uncovered a great deal of information that makes it clear Zecora’s in even more danger than we knew.”
Luna sniffed and stood as Celestia rose with her and tipped her head to one side; her multi-hued mane bobbed slightly: “Where is Twilight?”
Reaper sighed: “We were deep in the intradimensional zones that make up that table for more hours than I care to recall, then we had to go to the Waiting Room to take care of a group of recovered spirits. She’s exhausted, and I wouldn’t be surprised if she wasn’t in need of a visit to Dux’a’s as we speak.”
Luna furrowed her brow as she sat on a stool and adjusted her gorget: “But you could not have been gone for more than three or four hours at most.”
“Twilight cast a spell that slowed time to a near standstill. It allowed us the time to thoroughly clean-out an entire region of that table.”
Reaper stood and paced: “But it wasn’t just the time--it was intensely taxing on her. It’s becoming clearer and clearer to me that Grey Thorn’s creations and magic were increasingly driven by and mixed with his dreams and nightmares. It makes it very difficult to discern reality from fantasy, even for me. And in the case of a young pony, newly-imbued with great power and subjected to equally-great ordeals…”
He shrugged: “I don’t know how much longer her center can hold before she cracks. She’s gone well beyond mere research and dabbling in dark magic, at this point.”
Celestia grimaced: “What do you mean? I’m aware of and concerned by the blood, but please don’t tell me she’s done the unforgivable and sacrificed--”
Reaper shook his head: “No, not that far, but I fear if we don’t wrap this up soon, she may slide past the point of no return.”
Luna stood and adjusted her tiara: “I will join her dreams as soon as we have visited the Void again, and have a talk with her concerning these disturbing developments.”
Reaper shrugged: “I hope it helps, but at this point I think the only real cure is to get Zecora out of the Void as quickly as possible so Twilight doesn’t have to deal with this anymore.”
Luna nodded: “So to that point, let us go now and see what more we may glean from that accursed realm.”
Celestia moved beside her sister, and they disappeared in twin flashes as Reaper faded away.
Reaper stepped forward and paused as Luna’s horn began to glow; a thin, silvery ribbon snaked toward Reaper’s back.
He glanced over his shoulder at Celestia as he brought his face close to the matte black surface of the Void: “You sure you’re OK with helping out this time?”
Celestia nodded: “I looked in on Twilight and she is clearly in no shape to oversee this right now. She needs her rest, but time is of the essence, so I will fill in so you two can do what needs to be done.”
Reaper turned back: “Alright--let’s do it, then.”
He leaned forward and phased his head through the Void, pressing forward until his shoulders disappeared through its surface. Luna’s magic ribbon slipped in between his shoulders and touched the back of his neck.
She opened her eyes and adjusted again to the dim, otherworldly light, swooping low across the orange plain, passing close by the Compound: “Zecora--I have returned! Can you hear me?”
She closed her eyes and hovered for a moment, probing her surroundings, looking for a sleeping mind. She furrowed her brow in confusion, and resumed flying, staying close to the ground, heading toward the cave entrance.
“Zecora--I feel you, but cannot part the clouds surrounding your mind. Are you hurt? Reach out for me!”
A dim, black-and-white shape suddenly flickered at the edge of her perception: “I know not if I’m live or dead / I’m lost now in this place of dread!”
Luna squinted and glanced anxiously about: “I do not think you are dead as I am still able to communicate with you; I believe you must be unconscious. Are you hurt?”
“I pierced Celestia’s tortured shade / as Nightmare struck with horned blade. / I felt my spirit ripped away / and fear that here now I must stay!”
“I can only linger a moment more, but I bear some good news: Twilight has gathered enough information and spells that she believes she may understand this place’s operation, now.”
A band of shadow coalesced and swept overhead as Luna cast her eyes about warily: “Do you have a sense as to where you need to go to make an escape, or allow for rescue? Are there any landmarks?”
“Kla’atra and Gil together believe / that there is, indeed a way to leave. / This cave we’re in, as we progress / should empty near the true egress.”
Luna furrowed her brow and sped toward the apparent source of Zecora’s voice. She stayed low to the ground, sweeping past the library-temple and approaching the cave entrance: “I think I have a line on you, Zecora; I will see if I cannot bring you back to consciousness.”
“Luna wait! ”
Luna alighted in front of the cave and stepped through the dark entrance--
--and froze, wide-eyed.
She found herself inside a dim, smoky tent, suffused with dull, red light and the smell of singed flesh. Mingled sounds of wet, rhythmic slapping, and choked sobbing came from the far end of the structure. Luna’s knees buckled and she trembled uncontrollably.
“How-how is this poss-possible?”
Gerrar looked up from Nai’a’s chair and gestured with a heavy chalice toward a naked, scarred back hunched over a dark, sweat-streaked form. Luna could clearly make out the squeak of a bench with each thrust of the lean, pale figure.
“Whe-where am I?”
“Where you’ve always been; you never left.”
Luna’s eyes darted back and forth, seeking a way out: “That can-cannot be! I left Kur!”
“Did you? Or did you just take it with you? I told you this technique could be very effective.”
Luna swallowed heavily: “Who are you?”
Gerrar leaned forward with a cold smile: “Oh, you mean am I the one you cast adrift for all eternity, or the one you stabbed?”
The slapping sound became louder and more insistent as Luna began to hyperventilate: “I-I did what had to be done! You yourself s-said so!”
Gerrar took a sip from the chalice: “Maybe he was just sparing your feelings, coddling you in order to complete his mission.”
Sweat broke out on Luna’s brow as Nai’a stood in the distance and turned toward her: “How-how do I… I have to get out of here!”
Gerrar pulled a small notebook out of his tunic and jotted down a note: “Oh, not this time, T’zesa,” he patted the chalice, now resting on the floor beside him. “You’ll be awake this time…”
Luna blinked, then her eyes went wide: “Awake--that is it! Zecora, where are you? We are both trapped in this poisoned slumber! Can you come to me?”
Gerrar frowned, put his notebook down, and stood: “No fair!”
He looked over his shoulder toward the back of the tent where Nai’a was now stepping around the end of the bench: “Hey, Nai’a! Get your booze-soaked carcass up here--we have a problem!”
Nai’a broke into a run, closing fast as Gerrar turned back toward Luna and drew his sword.
Luna clenched her teeth and closed her eyes: “Zecora! To me!”
The two men reached the trembling alicorn just as Zecora burst through the tent wall, pivoted and drove her hind hooves into Gerrar’s throat with a crunch.
His body flew sideways into Nai’a, knocking him off his stride and sending Gerrar’s sword skidding to the floor.
Luna’s eyes snapped open and she reached down with her teeth, snatched the blade up, stepped forward and swept the blade across Nai’a neck. His head separated in a spray of blood, and his corpse crashed to the floor, staining Luna’s indigo legs crimson.
Zecora drove her shoulder into Luna and forced her toward the ragged gap in the tent wall: “We must flee / come with me!”
They stumbled out of the tent into an empty space, devoid of light or sound. A moment later, just as she was trying to gain her bearings, Luna fell roughly to the ground with a thud and a burst of dark-violet light: “Wh-where are we? I cannot feel anything…”
“You have joined me here in my emptiness / This seems better than your last distress.”
Luna squinted, bringing Zecora’s face into focus: “It is better, thank you! However, we need to return you to consciousness, and get me out of here before the entity that inhabits this place seizes me!”
“Luna! Where are you?”
“Zecora! Can you hear me?”
Luna furrowed her brow: “That sounded like Reaper? Did you hear that?”
Zecora nodded: “Gil’s voice came to me as well / Did you hear him also yell?”
“Yes. Clearly we are sharing your consciousness. Bear with me a moment.”
Luna’s horn glowed faintly as a thin ribbon snaked outward and disappeared into the surrounding darkness. Zecora began to shudder.
“Zecora! Kla’atra believes she can reach you. Hold on…”
Luna’s eyes went wide: “Wha-what is that?”
“Gil’s friend from…”
Luna dissolved with a startled gasp as Zecora sat bolt upright; the surrounding space went utterly black and collapsed in on itself.
Because I Could not Stop for Death
Zecora sat up in a dimly-lit, blank space and peered through the gloom, shuddering as a shadow swept overhead: “Luna! Are you here with me now / Or sadly did I miss you somehow?”
“No, I am still here--Twilight is able to penetrate the Void in a fashion akin to Reaper, and tasked me with letting you know that she is going to attempt to break the seals shortly.”
Zecora squinted and leaned forward, attempting to locate Luna: “For me that is most excellent news / for I now have no time left to lose!”
“Do you have a sense of where you are in here? Do you know where the ‘exit’ is, so to speak?”
“Indeed, that is where we five are bound / it lies--”
Zecora was startled by a sudden silvery glint in the distance; she strained her eyes in an attempt to make out its source.
“I am sorry--I did not hear the last of that...”
Zecora furrowed her brow and rubbed the back of a hoof across her face: “It lies at the top of this curs-ed mound.”
A low rumble shook the space, and a dark mist began to rise from the floor. Zecora stood and looked around in alarm: “Luna--do you yet remain? / There is more I should explain!”
The mist thickened and the air grew deathly cold. A shape loomed just beyond Zecora’s view: “L-Luna? Is-is that…”
She collapsed.
Zecora? Can you hear me? We are coming--be brave!”
The now-impenetrable mist flickered bluish-white for a moment, then went dark.
Gil furrowed his brow and watched pensively as Zecora’s body shuddered and spasmed. He looked between Bramble and Kla’atra: “I think we should wake her--something seems wrong!”
Bramble leaned down and focused on the zebra’s half-lidded eyes and heaving chest: “I agree--I don’t think she’s asleep at this point. It’s been almost five minutes, and she’s now struggling to breathe!”
Gil nodded and turned toward Kla’atra: “Alright, it’s up to you, again--please see if you can rouse her.”
Kla’atra’s eyes flashed silver for a moment as she folded in her limbs and tipped her head toward Zecora’s: “I will have made another attempt.”
Gil and Bramble watched intently as Kla’atra’s form faded in and out briefly while Zecora’s mouth moved soundlessly. Green Streak chewed her lip for a moment, then glanced up at the flickering shield. A dark shadow passed overhead, and a shape caught her eye as it scurried around the edge of the buried metal close by the pegasus.
She squinted at the blackened turf near her hooves and shrieked: “What the fuck?!”
Gil and Bramble’s heads snapped around in unison as Green Streak backed away from the shape. Gil glanced from her face to the ground and furrowed his brow: “What's Squish doing here?”
Kla’atra’s eyes flickered pale violet for a moment as she adjusted to her surroundings and focused on Zecora’s prostrate form, lying in the dark mist. She worked her mandibles for a moment and crouched next to the unconscious zebra. Her eyes glowed gold briefly, and a rough-hewn wooden door appeared off to one side.
Kla’atra rose and walked to the door, pushed it open and stepped into the hut beyond, glancing over her shoulder at Zecora as she passed through the threshold.
She surveyed the space, walked to a shelf lined with jars and baskets, and opened several of the jars, peering inside, replacing the lids, and moving to the next. Finally she reached up beneath a chink in the chitinous material covering her throat and pulled out a small, glittering scale, which she placed beneath a jar. She took one last look around the hut and passed through the doorway, returning to Zecora’s side.
Kla’atra’s eyes flashed pale blue and violet as she bent down: “Zecora! You may now have to awaken! We should all be in grave danger and might have had to move out!”
Zecora’s eyes fluttered open and focused unsteadily on the large, insect-like shape looming over her. She tried to sit up but fell back on her side: “Ooh--I am very dizzy! Did I fall asleep and not wake up?”
Kla’atra nodded: “Yes--I might have had to enter your mind again to arouse you. Gil and Bramble will think that they shall not be capable of maintaining the cloak for much longer.”
Zecora clenched her teeth as her stomach lurched: “I understand. Please help me awaken and we can continue our journey.”
Kla’atra‘s eyes glittered and flashed gold for a moment; the space became suffused with a bright light, as she and Zecora began to fade away.
Zecora smiled weakly: “Thank you! I know I’ve been a bother. I hope this will be the last time.”
“It shall have been no trouble…”
The space fell dark save for a silver glint in the distance.
Green Streak eyed Squish nervously and drifted back beside Kla’atra as the alien’s head suddenly snapped upward. Bramble looked down at Zecora as Gil furrowed his brow and squinted at Squish, who was now skirting along the edge of the rock-metal outcropping: “Has it been following us? Even up here?”
Bramble glanced up at Gil as Zecora’s eyes slowly opened: “I guess so. It almost never follows me beyond the stream, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen it beyond the cave!”
“Why is it here, though? Can it perceive us behind this cloak?”
Zecora sat up wiped a trickle of bile from her mouth while Bramble chewed his lip: “I can’t tell--it seems to be interested in Grey Thorn, not us, and--”
Suddenly the small creature scuttled up to the ledge on which Grey Thorn’s shade was slouched and reached out a limb. As its dark-brown appendage passed through the unicorn’s translucent image, the shade brightened, then distorted and collapsed in on itself, disappearing a few moments later with a pale flash.
Bramble’s eyes went wide and Gil rocked back in alarm: “It-it absorbed the shade!”
Bramble stared at Squish: “That’s exactly what it looked like to me! That must be what happened to the others!"
Zecora took a deep, ragged breath: “What does that mean?”
Bramble kept his eyes locked onto Squish as he shook his head weakly: “I don’t know! We always assumed Squish was just another disembodied spirit, or semi-sentient fragment. We had no idea it could actually interact like that!”
Zecora nodded: “But then you saw me prod it with my hoof…”
Gil chewed his lip: “Yes. And now we may have another thing to worry about, beyond the Sentinel.”
He turned to face Zecora: “Did you contact Luna? Any news?”
“Yes--she said Twilight is ready to break the seals and open the Void, and that we should be ready.”
Green Streak eyed Squish warily then glanced up at the flickering cloak: “I think we’re about out of time in any event.”
Gil sighed: “Yes, I’m afraid you’re right. We have little choice at this point but to break for the highpoint of the Swamp, and try to distract the Sentinel as best as we can, and hope Zecora’s friend is truly able to break the seals.”
Bramble nodded: “And to make matters worse, I don’t think we can maintain this cloak at its current size once we get moving. It’s all I can do to hold it now while still!”
Green Streak shuffled her hooves nervously for a moment: “I can ‘fly,’ can’t I? I mean in a ghostly sort of way, yes?”
Gil shrugged: “I presume so. I’ve seen a few pegasi over the centuries take flight down in the Compound, so…”
The pegasus stood tall and threw back her head: “Then I’ll fly cover and act as a distraction as long as I can.”
Zecora struggled to her hooves and furrowed her brow: “That’s a terrible risk, and--”
“I know, but it’s the only thing I can do to help, and this whole thing has the feel of a suicide mission as it is.”
Zecora shuddered and retched: “Believe me, I know!”
Gil glanced at her with concern and caught a brief glint of silver in her eyes before she squeezed them shut for a moment. He raised an eyebrow and drifted around the side of the outcropping: “In any event, we should be able to hold this cloak together for a few more minutes. Let's make the best of it while we can.”
The others trailed behind Gil as Zecora tossed another hoofful of yellow powder up into the shield; Bramble rounded the outcropping last and glanced over his shoulder at Squish perched on the shelf where Grey Thorn’s shade had been. He chewed his lip for a moment, then fell in behind Zecora.
The party made its way across the pockmarked surface, ducking instinctively each time a band of shadow swept overhead, making their way slowly up the oddly-angled slope toward a bank of dark-gray haze.
Zecora stumbled and fell forward onto her her knees: “I-I’m having a hard time breathing.”
Gil frowned and watched as the zebra struggled to her hooves: “I’m not surprised. We’re almost as close as one can get to the Sentinel, and its connection point to the Vacuum. The draining effects are redoubled here, and it’s literally killing you. I know it’s difficult, but we have to go on as fast as possible!”
Zecora rubbed the back of a hoof across her eyes and stumbled forward, peering into the dark fog ahead: “What is that shape ahead?”
Bramble stepped beside her as the cloak flickered and nearly failed: “That’s the Sentinel itself. We rarely see its actual physical manifestation like this. I almost forgot how gnarled and vine-like it is.”
Zecora pressed forward another few yards, almost stumbling into a pit. She stopped and squinted: “It looks like some sort of tree crossed with a sea creature…”
She glanced back over her shoulder.
Gil tipped his head sideways: “What are you looking for?”
“Squish. Haven’t you noticed that it looks a little like the Sentinel?”
Bramble chewed his lip for a moment: “Maybe--a little? I don’t know…”
“Think back--as Grey Thorn. You must recall what it looked like when you found it on its world.”
“That-that was so, so long ago. Maybe.”
Gil drifted forward another yard; the shadows and fog deepened: “What’s your point?”
Zecora clenched her teeth and moaned in pain as what little was left in her bowels emptied out on the ground: “None-none of you knows much about animals, do you?”
The others glanced among themselves; Gil furrowed his brow: “No? And?”
“Squish and the Sentinel--there must be some connection--like a it’s piece or a larval form or a parasite or something. They’re related.”
Bramble stared back down the slope from which they had come, and caught a glimpse of a shape darting into a hole: “Could that be? I-I don’t know. I always assumed it came along with the turf and bog material, but I just figured it was caught-up in it, like accidentally catching a fish while taking lake water.”
Gil nodded: “I think you may well be right, Zecora--there may be a connection, especially since we now know Squish has a physical component as well.”
He pointed to the bag hanging around Zecora’s neck: “And I think you may be able to buy at least yourself a little more time--the cloak will collapse to just myself and Bramble moments from now.”
Zecora’s eyes went wide: “What can I do? I’m too weak to run, and I can’t fight without my pink compound!”
“The blue powder. Recall how Squish avoided it?”
Zecora fumbled in her bag for the relevant vial: “Yes--I remember! Do you think it will be enough?”
“Toss some on yourself and see! The cloak’s failing!”
Green Streak gritted her teeth: “Then it’s time to fly!”
Zecora tossed a dose of bright-blue dust over her shoulders and looked at Kla’atra: “What about you? You won’t be protected! Maybe there will still be enough space inside the cloak!”
Kla’atra’s eyes flashed pale green and magenta as she tucked in her forelimbs and bowed: “That would not to have become your concern. I might have yet enough psionic energy to have evaded the Sentinel one last time.”
She streched her long, spiny rear legs and kicked free of the cloak as Green Streak jumped into the air and spread her wings.
The cloak collapsed, and Zecora looked up in horror at the dark, naked shape writhing above her as Bramble and Gil vanished.
She began to stagger forward, fighting weariness and vertigo, keeping pace with Kla’atra as bands of shadow swept down from the sky, and the dark, twisted shape bent toward her.
Zecora stepped blindly into a hole and cried out in pain and fear as a tendril darted out of the fog. As it closed in, a light-green shape swept past, blocking the black ribbon: “Hey, ugly! You fucked-up once--care to try me again?”
A beam of pale silver light stabbed out from Kla’atra, driving back another tendril as Zecora lurched to her hooves and stumbled on, shaking a cloud of bright blue dust free that hung in the air around her like a sparkling nimbus. The dark ribbons recoiled, and a thin screech echoed in the distance.
She drove forward into the fog, which peeled back, repelled by the blue haze hovering around her body, with Kla’atra and Green Streak close on her heels.
The pegasus swooped low and touched down next to Zecora for a moment: “That thing sure doesn’t like your blue stuff!”
Zecora stopped to pant and spit out a mouthful of bloody bile: “No, it d-doesn’t. But I don’t know if that’s just shock and surprise or if it will hold up.”
Green Streak smiled and took off again: “Whatever--let’s ride it for all it’s worth!”
Zecora stumbled forward as the fog continued to part for her. Kla’atra moved alongside: “Shall you be unwell? Might you have yet made it?”
“I-I feel awful, but I have to keep going! If I stop now, I don’t think I’ll ever get back up!”
Kla’atra nodded and wrapped herself in a pale golden bubble for an instant, deflecting a tendril. A silver beam sprang out from her forehead and disappeared into the fog, eliciting another distant howl.
Kla’atra, Zecora and Green Streak picked their way through the fog as quickly as Zecora’s wobbling legs could carry her. She paused for a moment to re-apply her powder and squint through the nearly pitch-black haze: “Where are Gil and Bramble? Did the Sentinel get them? Where are we supposed to go?”
She was struck by a sudden wave of intense cold and dropped to her knees. Her eyesight failed momentarily, and when she regained its use she realized she was alone, surrounded by impenetrable darkness, illuminated only by her blue nimbus. She heard a dry, slithering sound and felt her heart skip a beat.
“H-help! Is anypony else here? Kla’atra? Gil?”
She heard a swish overhead and saw a distant flash of silver and gold, and struggled to rise. She stood and took a tentative step forward just as a gnarled, dark-gray shape, like a long, twisting tree branch, whipped out of the fog, sweeping aside her protective blue cloud.
Zecora cried out in terror and pitched forward to the spongy turf as the air was rent by a shriek, then a crackle of golden energy, then a burst of silver that stopped the Sentinel’s advance just long enough for a shape to block Zecora’s view.
Gil’s voice came to Zecora as though through a thick blanket: “Kla’atra! What are you doing?”
“I would have spent my last energy to defend Zecora! The end shall have come!”
She pointed up at a flickering three-ringed circle that had suddenly appeared above them, rotating and glowing violet and gold. Gil and Bramble burst into view as their cloak dissolved and the Sentinel lashed out at all five figures scattered across the turf at its base.
Kla’atra stood on her hind limbs, eyes glowing silver, and spread her other four limbs wide, generating a pale blue bubble which deflected the Sentinel’s strike. It burst on impact, throwing the alien backwards with a silver flash, stunning Zecora and tearing the alien asunder.
Gil and Bramble dashed forward, horns ablaze, to protect the unconscious zebra as Green Streak swept down in a last attempt to divert the Sentinel’s final strike.
All three converged as four dense, twisting bands of solid blackness crashed down on them through the fog with a whistling shriek.
But the fog was suddenly swept away by a withering blast of violet light that turned the Sentinel’s tendrils aside and lit the summit of the Swamp with the brilliance of a noonday sun.
Gil, Bramble and Green Streak froze and gazed up at the blazing circles and the dark, terrible, indefinite form that hovered above them, bathed in golden light, streaked with black, crackling with energy, stretching away into infinity.
I’m here, Zecora!
