What It's Like To Die

by AvidSeason

Rating: mature
Tags: Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Other
Length: 3083

A pony in their final moments.

I'm leaving this behind, not for myself. I keep telling myself this, but it never seems to be true. I want to help, that much is true, but my desire to strive longer than my body does me in. I have rigged up a recording system of sorts. A self-writing quill. I'm going to be talking for awhile, and after I'm done, I'll instruct someone to copy it and send it to you. You're going to be getting this at a time in your life, where you just need some advice or something. Anything.

I'm not here to offer that. I'm just here to remove your pain. To make you feel proud of your father in his final moments, or at least give you a nugget of wisdom. It may not be what you're looking for, but it might just be what you need in the end. A one-sided conversation with the dead.

I'm...I'm warning you now, that I lose it at the end. The...infection came earlier than I thought it would. Although, I'm sure you can remember what happened soon after that. This is basically me writing something down posthumous, as linguists put it. Anyway, you'll already know, where I'll be when you read this, hopefully. I mean...I could've timed it wrong, but I don't know. I just hope you find something in my words, something within my meaning. I just...want to give you something. Something meaningful. Something important. Something powerful. It might not even be that for you. Anyway, when you're ready just open this envelope. My words are inside. I hope you can find solace.

Published 2017-09-09 04:30:06 UTC
Last updated 2017-09-09 04:30:06 UTC

Testament

If you are reading this sentence, then you are alive. No surprise there. However, just by being alive, doesn’t let you read this. What let’s you read this is your ability to form complex thought processes. In other words, because our minds are suited for this task. However, for those that are not, then you should probably be more focused on other things, like surviving the night and getting offspring.

That is where those special creatures are lucky. They are not concerned with their own thought processes, their own memory. Their only concerns are to keep yourselves alive until they, eventually, die at the hands of nature. We few sapients are, essentially, cursed with this. We do make the best of this though.

We have helped our fellows live...thrive... and survive beyond the mere means of animals. We have developed complex languages, that house complex meanings besides food, home, and fear. We have built our own homes, made out of stronger stuff than rocks and sticks. We grow our own food and have cultivated acres and acres worth of it. Yes...we’ve made the most out of it all.

However, even with all of these advantages, we still are sufferable to the one thing that constrains all things. Decay. It will forever be a force to reckon with as no force, neither mystical nor natural has a means of stopping it. That doesn’t stop us from trying though.

Many of us have naturally long lives already, like the princesses or dragons or even the mythical elementals. However, even with naturally long lives, they still will die. We’ve seen it happen. Alicorns, can be drained of their abilities. Dragons can die in combat. And elementals can die as soon as they use to much of their own essences. So nothing, not even us, can stop this.

A lot of us try to keep a positive spin on things. We’ve made up some stories to help us sleep at night, to not be fearful of staying under. Some hold weight, others do not. Some become religions, others cults. Each of us, has a right to choose what to believe in. That I hold no doubt.

However, we are not sure. In all of our mythos, our history, not a single person can claim to have seen what’s on the other side. No one can say there’s not an Elysium or reincarnation. But then again, no one can say we don’t live on as rocks, or as stars. That’s why I try not to have a viewpoint on things. I try not to believe in an afterlife. Because if there is, I’ll be happy. If there isn’t....well I’ll at least be glad with what I’ve done. Celestia knows how hard life is for an immortal. She is not a goddess. Yet she is treated like one, solely for her power, stature, and natural longevity. I wouldn’t be remise to say that if Diamond Dogs had an immortal alpha, they would probably be praising his name or treating him like a god.

However, just because someone is all-powerful does not make them all-knowing. Celestia herself even declared when she came into her role, that she wasn’t one. Yet we still treat her like it. Because we’ve grown used to her presence in Civilization. She even claimed not to know where we even go. She’s just like the rest of us mortals. However, there is Luna.

The reason I bring her up, is that she has a special magic all her own, dream walking. It lets her go throughout the minds of Equestria, settling down any nightmares that she may come across. However, there are too many ponies now, and she cannot reach them all. One would assume that she could get an apprentice of sorts, but dream walking magic is hard to come by, especially for those that don’t have the cutie mark for it. The destiny. So what we have, is an immortal ruler, who’s just as kind as Celestia, when not under ill effects, and can see what old stallions dream about as they die. However, this doesn’t tell us where they go. Luna herself says that their dreamscape just...fades. Slowly, and then it’s gone. Like a dream.

So if we can’t turn to divinity for answers, then we have to look inside ourselves. But what do we find? We find magic, and a ‘soul’. Souls..are hard to come by. Oh they’re abundant, but they don’t appear in the wild. Every living thing has a soul. It is just the nature of things. However, we can never find any wisps of loose souls flying about away from their hosts, and we can detect them, so where do they go when ponies die? Many have tried to answer this question. They’ve monitored many a being as they approached their final moments. What they find, however, is disheartening. We think souls are everlasting. We think they house what makes up US. They do not. They only house our magic, our essence of being. And when we die, our souls fade. Just like our dreams. So what we have inside ourselves, is just magic.

However, magic...is a fickle thing. Only on rare occasions do unicorns even want to delve into the depths of what happens after we die, so information is really hard to come by when they try to rip out what makes something alive. Some even can’t because of laws, some moral, some....governmental. And while I’m not saying it’s a right shame they outlawed Necromansy, I’m just saying that if we still had some, they could at least tell us if there’s anything in those husks that they create. If they can ‘capture’ a soul, if it even leaves a body, but it’s too late now. They’re all gone. They can’t tell us anything about what they’ve seen, unless they can become something else. Something made of death. Something that no longer has souls, but consumes it. But when that happens, thought leaves them. They become like animals, so we can’t ask them even if they’re liches.

So if we can’t turn to magic, or divinity, or the soul itself, we must turn to something else. Like philosophy or science. However, each has their own problems. Philosophy only delves into what we ourselves think. What we know, why we know, how we know, what we experience, wonder, love, and hate. Not constructive if all it does is restate the opinions of the past, or just what makes up us in the first place, not providing us with any evidence, so that just leaves science.

However, even science hasn’t dealt with much in the way of the spirit. They think it doesn’t exist and why should they? With the few experiments they’ve done with trying to find a physical form for it, they find no trace. So all that leaves them with is either no belief or just that. It might give us an answer in the future, but right now...it’s doing jack shit, and we certainly deserve to know before we go.

So....if everything we have, everything we’ve learned, what can we do now? Well...there is an obvious answer to that, but...it gives us hard choices to face if we fail. If we succeed, well...we won’t even know then either. Bringing back someone on the bringth of death, does not necessitate them having entered into a land of eternal paradise, damnation, or purgatory. It only offers us glimpses of what happens to a person when they are dieing and haven’t left this world yet, and we’ve known this for a long time, so it doesn’t give us new information. We can certainly delay the inevitable, and we’ve certainly tried.

Many scientists are thinking of grafting their brains on stone tablets, with runes no less, so as their personality and memories survive. However, the method that they do this is entirely questionable, both morally and scientifically. They would hook themselves up to a magic reader and just let it graft whatever it reads. Then they do the same thing, at the same time, with a mind scanner. What it reads is not ‘them’, but an instance of them. What it leaves behind after the demise, is not an up-to-date version of themselves, but of when they were younger, still headstrong, and not having inhibitions. We could try to extend our minds. Put ourselves into a hive mind, like the changelings do. That way no one personality is lost, and they can just be put into another grub’s body, devoid of thought, personality, and complex processes. However, this raises as many moral questions as it should.

If one were to have a society of this, then nothing would progress as much. No new blood. However, if we can extend the lifespan of a species, past a certain threshold, then we can get new blood, in short bursts. However, this assumes that, there are no live births taking place. We do not have the means of growing a being outside of the warmth of a womb, or the shell of an egg. No way of mass producing empty husks. However, that assumes a society has always had that. The integration of that into a pre-existing one, may be rough, and certainly spark some violent tendencies. So what do we have left?

I am sorry for going on a tangent with you. I still relive my days as a professor sometimes. But I am old. I do not have the time for such tangental thoughts. In fact, I may not have the time at all to contemplate this train of thought. I’m getting weak, whether do to my recent injuries from my disease, or just my age in general. We all are getting old. However, I have to think about this. I have to find out, through my own mind if there is anything left after I die. Will I wake up? Like from a dream and live the rest of my life in perfect comfort? Will I find myself stuck in a never-ending blankness where all I can do is wander? Will I become a dog through reincarnation? I don’t know. I am old. I do not have the time for this.

However, what I do have time for is leaving something behind. That is all what we strive for. What we long for. To leave something that lasts longer than us. To have our memory passed down through the ages. It has worked for Sombra. While not being dead necessarily, his soul was destroyed and it has been a thousand years hence from when he conquered, and we still know about him. We know the horrors that he committed. We know his ambitions. We even know his sex life, if that’s what you’d like to do for your history major. We also know of the Neighponese tales of old and other such like. However, they do not go as in depth as Sombra. We do not know their interests, their desires, or their sex lives. We only know of their conquests, their victories. So if all we can do is be evil and horrid and against what culture there is left to be memorialized, how am I going to be remembered?

I was a decent pony, or still am technically, but I’ve lived all I can. I did what I wanted to do. I found myself a lover, a life partner, a shoulder to cry on, when I couldn’t do it anymore. I had children, and I hear I’m even getting grandfoals. All I can do is leave a legacy. Leave my stories amongst my children. But they will not know them as completely as I do. I have to settle for what I can get. And then it will be mangled and lost in translation as time goes on. Even my own likeness will be erased after a couple of generations. My presence in my family will be...filled by something else. Something that isn’t me. IT could be my great-great grandfoal, but....it could also be a separate part of a family.

I do not have the time for this. Why am I thinking of these things now? Didn’t I decide to shove them all under the rug, when I was younger? Didn’t I tell myself I should just accept it and think about it later!?! Well....it’s as late as it can get.

I do not know what will happen when I die. I can probably prepare myself though. It will be like it is now probably. Dark, shapes flying before my eyes. Sound will probably be the first thing to go. It will be like the sudden silence after you turn off the gramophone on its high setting. Next will be touch. You wouldn’t be able to feel the softness of the bed, the wind against your fur. You wouldn’t even feel yourself breathing. Then would be the loss of movement. Your muscles wouldn’t work, but you wouldn’t mind. You’d probably already be asleep. Then the brain. It would get less and less active. Less coherent until it stops moving at all. After awhile, the magic would leave your body, and then your soul. Nothing you would remain, having gone.

Telling myself this doesn’t help. It doesn’t prepare me. It only seeks to further elevate my fear. But fear is good. It gets your heart pumping faster...longer. Look. I’m sorry for all I’ve ever done. I’m sorry for the sins and debauchery I’ve committed. I only ever wanted to make life better. For me and others. I’m sorry for all of my faults. They are mine alone. I hope this thing is actually writing this all down. It’s set to run out of magic soon. Just like me. Look. I am sorry for having to make you listen to this. I know you’re tired and wanting to head home, but I beg you please. Pass this on. If my name doesn’t at least live down, maybe if you can keep this in good condition my thoughts can. I guess that by the time you’ve gotten this, it’s either really sudden or unexpected. I can’t tell you how I died or what it’s like. I just hope that I am okay with this when you get this.

You, along with Celestia, Luna, and all the immortals are receiving this, as I’ve stated in my will. I will not give a time or place of where I lived. Nor will I give a name. As those are definite. Not malleable. I cannot be the same thing for everyone. And I DO MEAN EVERYONE. I cannot be the same voice, the same offer of wisdom. I am not like Sombra. I cannot have one name, one face like he. For to have one name and face offers a definitive. It lets those in the future guess who you are. Who you were. I cannot be known, can never be known, just as the names of the lost tales of old. I have to be malleable. Otherwise, no one will hear me, they will tune me out in favor of other avenues, other words. YOU have my name. YOU have my stories. YOU are my child. My foal. After the time I end, I doubt that death is going to be conquered. I doubt that decay will end. I just hope that somehow I can be words of wisdom in someone’s time of need. Of contemplation. Of fear. Of decay. That’s all I can hope for. Probably all ever will at this rate. Peach...I love you. I wish you were here. I wish you could tell me. But you’re not. All I have left is myself and things of the past, and all I’ll leave behind. I’ll leave our little colt. I’ll leave Carrot behind. I’ll even leave his fiance. I’ll leave everyone....

I feel it. Everyday, I can feel it. My bones weakening. Me flesh destroying itself. My magic leaving me. It does this to all, who pass the threshold, the highest point in their lives. It’s happening more today. Oh...I’m...I’m bleeding.

Author's Note

After the events of Citrus Juice's death, there was a plaque commemorated to him in the castle gardens of Canterlot. Beneath a statue of a lying figure, his legs spread out. It reads: 'Here lies a stallion. His remains were moved here from Whitetail Woods, after her serene highness, Princess Celestia, bid to do so, 50 years after his death. His testimony lies within the castle library under the name "What It's Like To Die".' On top of that, lies a smaller plaque, but with bigger font. It reads: "Courage".

*Commemorated to Arthur, my best friend. Died June, 2016. May he rest in peace. I should've been there when they buried your body. I should've said my peace and said my final goodbyes. Now all that's left is a nameless grave, where a body lies, without a casket, being torn away. I wish you hadn't died so young. I wish we could've grown together, or at least...been friends for longer. I cry sometimes, Arthur. I miss you so much, now that you're gone. But that's how it is. 16 was too soon. I try to visit your grave sometimes. I pray that there's a god looking after you. Or that you're okay, but I know that sometimes all we have is hope. I'm just so sorry. I wish you were here. Optimism is what I need now that the world is creeping up on me, whispering its doubts into my mind, and saying that all that I want is pointless and that all I need is to just sit down and die. I wish you were here to banish the dark thoughts in my head. I wish the last thing I said to you wasn't shut up. I wish that I could've said I was sorry the next day, instead of mustering up the courage far too late. I wish that we got along better. Please...don't be mad at me. I still miss you. I still love you....I wish you were here. I wish I had your voice of reason. I wish I wasn't afraid back then. Afraid I might catch what you got. Afraid of losing my hair and patches of my skin. I just...I just wish I was able to hug you before you went. I wished I could've cried into you one last time. I wish I wasn't alone anymore......