The Princess and the Reaper
Equestria, a world of talking equines that come almost exclusively in bright pastel colors. Then there is Equestria’s flipside, the Discworld. The two worlds are carried through space on the backs of four elephants riding atop Great A’tuin the turtle. Were one to ask scholars in Equestria about Great A’tuin, most would chalk him up to ancient myth. The Equestrians have been taught that the top of their world is a sea of clouds and sky. They have never looked up/down and seen the backs of the elephants or the shell of Great A’tuin above/below them, because they do not believe they will. It is well understood that there is a certain magic in belief, and if enough people – or ponies – believe something, it will become true. So it is that Equestria’s citizens believe their world has a sky and stars above and when they look up that is what they see.
Inhabitants of both worlds would say these ideas are absurd, that there can’t possibly be a world upside down beneath their feet (or hooves, depending on who is speaking). But then one might challenge them with the question ‘Have you ever looked?’ and they would find themselves sputtering to provide a satisfactory answer that will allow them to maintain their dignity while vindicating their skepticism, only to find to their dismay that no such answer exists and so they trail off into mumbles before finally whispering ‘no’ and that would be that.
If one were to approach the situation logically, then they would come to the conclusion that of course the Discworld and Equestria are two sides of one earth. No one in the Discworld has been able to explain how the sun and moon rise, but those in Equestria know the Princesses raise and lower them. The ponies have never seen the edge of their world, but were they to explore the furthest reaches of it they would find the world ringed by a giant wall of water falling into the sky where, on the flipside of their world, the water from the Discworld falls off into space. This sight would not disturb the ponies too greatly, however. Indeed, discuss this reality with many of them and they would laugh that it is hardly the strangest thing that has happened to them this week.
One such pony is Twilight Sparkle, the Princess of Friendship. One might question how there could be a Princess of Friendship, as monarchies are based on a classist system where the Princess would outrank her friends, unless they too are Princesses. But one should not bring up this idea in earshot of Twilight Sparkle, lest they wish to endure a two minute and twenty-six second speech on how much value she places on her friendships regardless of what crown she might be wearing at the time.
Regardless of speeches, however, what is about to happen to Twilight Sparkle is strange even by the standards of Equestria. In fact she would be hard pressed to find a stranger event occurring this week to anypony.
“I know it’s around here somewhere…” Twilight Sparkle rummaged through a trunk of goods in her attic and finally found what she was looking for. “Aha!” Twilight triumphantly held up a small black amulet with a red stone in the middle. Were one to recognize this object as the Alicorn Amulet, they might ask Twilight ‘Why were you keeping that in a trunk in your attic next to your Smarty Pants doll?’, to which Twilight would likely respond ‘Where else would I keep it?’, and the conversation would swiftly come to a close.
Twilight hummed to herself as she trotted back to her study. An eight-pointed star was drawn in the floor in chalk with five magical necklaces and one crown positioned at six of the points in piles of salt. Twilight placed the amulet at a seventh point and moved back to the book in the middle. “Let’s see… the Rite of AshkEnte needs just one more artifact…” She raised her head and looked around the library. “Where did I put it?” Twilight spotted an old book with stars on it on a high shelf. She flew up to it and pulled.
The book held fast, wedged in the shelf that it was. Twilight braced her hooves on the sides of the shelf and pulled. The book began to edge forward. She pulled harder and the book came free. Twilight cried out as she fell to the ground, the book in her hooves smashing into her face. She groaned and lay there for a moment.
Quite a tumble, Miss Sparkle.
Twilight didn’t recognize the voice. She also didn’t recognize the source, the words just thrummed in her head, as if the DJ who lives in her village had just walked by her with a boombox. Twilight lifted her hooves and pushed the book away to see who it was.
A tall and slim humanoid figure in a black cloak stood over her, a sword at their hip. The face was a naked skull, pale white with two stars of blue light twinkling in the depths of the sockets. Yet even with no facial features to go by, it was apparent to Twilight that the figure was looking at her.
“It happens.” Twilight stood up and brushed herself off, then put on a smile of appropriate pleasantness and looked up at her visitor. “Can I help you?”
No.
“Oh…” The Princess of Friendship was not accustomed to beings rejecting her help. Typically when she offered someone her aid, it began an adventure that would end after approximately twenty minutes, sometimes involving the singing of an impromptu musical number. But this stranger was not like the others. They were, to put it as politely as one could, stranger than she was used to. Regardless, Twilight smiled again and asked, “What are you here for, then?”
I am here for you.
“Oh…” Twilight looked the visitor up and down again. “I don’t recall having any friends who are skeletons with black cloaks and glowing blue stars in place of eyeballs, but then again I do have a lot of friends in at least two different worlds and it can be difficult to keep track of them all. Forgive me for being impolite in forgetting, but may I ask, who are you?”
I am the grave of hope. I am the ultimate reality. I am the assassin against which no lock can hold.
“I’m still blanking on a name…”
I am Death.
“Oh.” Twilight thought. “I know a couple of ponies with names like that. Are you acquainted with Death Scythe, Death Reaper, Deathsickle?”
They will know me someday, but today I am here for you.
“So you’re just ‘Death’, then?”
Just and absolute.
“Right.” Twilight nodded. She paused to review her circumstance, and a long-due revelation dawned on her and brought her new perspective of the conversation. “Wait… you’re Death?”
Yes.
“The Grim Reaper, that Death?”
I strongly dislike that term. I should think I'm rather pleasant, all things considered.
“Then…” Twilight slowly turned her head. Only now did she see the purple mare on the floor of the library, a very large and very heavy book on her head. The mare's head was considerably flatter than most physicians would advise as healthy. “Is that me?”
It was, a minute ago.
“So I’m… dead.”
Yes.
Twilight slapped a hoof to her forehead. “I had my head crushed by a book. Rainbow Dash will be making jokes about this for weeks. Once she gets over the grief and despair, I guess.” Twilight paused and blinked twice as she considered what she had just said. “It’s strange. I’m dead. Shouldn’t I be more emotional about this?”
Your mind has been freed of mortal concerns.
“Oh.” Twilight frowned. “I should think that sounds very selfish of me, but I can’t seem to bring myself to feel that way.”
It happens.
Twilight looked around the library. “I guess that explains why you’re here. I wouldn’t mind bringing a couple of things with me, but I suppose that’s impossible, right?”
I know several hundred pharaohs that could confirm that.
“Oh well, I imagine I won’t have much use for them where I’m going, anyway.” Twilight looked back at Death. “So, where am I going, exactly?”
Death did not answer. Twilight saw the sparks of blue dim and brighten a few times, and then jiggle and shake.
I don’t know.
“You don’t know?” Twilight scrunched her face. “I’d offer my perspective on the matter, but I’d say you’re more the expert than me.”
I have not come to collect a pony in a long time.
“Really? Because I’m pretty sure ponies have been living and dying in their proper time for at least the past thousand years or so.”
I do not see to pony deaths very often. I leave that matter to the Death of Ponies.
“The Death of Ponies? The one the spellbook with the Rite of AshkEnte mentioned?”
That's right.
“Well, I doubt I'll be finishing that ritual now. What's He like?”
Me, but a pony.
“I suppose that stands to reason.”
Death drew His sword and pointed it at Twilight, the metal shining. I only come to personally claim the souls of royalty. It has been many years since a royal pony died. I have been told that members of your species that earn a royal title are typically not of the mortal persuasion.
“Well, some of us, but there’s a lot more royalty in Equestria than just us four. And I’m fairly certain a lot of them are dead.”
There are other dead royal ponies?
“Yes, there’s Princess Platinum and King Bullion, Prince Hisan, Empress Sable Spirit, Prince Blue Dream and Princess Golden Dream, Princess Amore. Well, that last one may not fully count, but I’m pretty sure she would if you looked into it.”
Death seemed to frown, if one could picture how an eternally grinning skull might twist its features into a frown. He sheathed His sword. There may be a backlog I need to work through.
“How does Death fall behind schedule?”
By accident, of course. Death reached a skeleton hand to His chin and tapped it, the bones clinking. He then shrugged. Well, I have to start somewhere. Come along. Death turned and began walking through the castle.
Twilight trotted to keep pace alongside Him. “Where are we going?”
My home. I need to check the manual about what to do with you.
“There’s a manual about how to be Death?”
Naturally.
“When would someone ever need to learn about that?”
I’ll tell you about my former apprentice on the way. It should pass the time.
Once the two were outside Twilight saw a pale white horse on the grass, looking at them expectantly. She tilted her head as she examined the horse. “Is this the Death of Ponies?”
This is my steed, Binky.
“Oh.”
Hop on. Death climbed astride Binky and took the reins.
“How?” Twilight stepped up beside them and looked up at Death. “I don’t have the flexibility to ride a horse. Being, you know, I am a horse.”
To Twilight, Death's jaw joints seemed to draw higher to accentuate His smile. I suppose I could carry you.
“But then how would you hold the reins?”
Death raised His head and pondered her point.
Do you have a cart?
Twilight rode through a field of color that had her wishing she had brought a thesaurus along, that she could have the words to properly describe it. Swirls and trails and starbursts in a billion colors exploded and retracted and spiraled around her in an infinite dance of creation and destruction, creating a spectacle like nothing a pony had ever seen before.
Twilight was bored by it.
Sure, it was pretty for the first ten seconds, but after that it all blurred together and she was pondering where in the cosmology of existence they actually were. All she knew for sure was that she was riding in a small wooden cart she had found in back of her castle that had been hitched to the saddle of Death’s horse named Binky. The creature’s hooves galloped on empty air, sparks of light flying when its hooves beat down, the same trails of light that Twilight’s cart was leaving with its wheels.
Twilight didn’t ponder the logistics of a horse that could gallop across nothingness and through dimensions. Her own adventures had set a surprising precedent for such things being possible. She instead pondered the less obvious question of if ‘Binky’ was a distant relative of that purple unicorn she sometimes saw the Cutie Mark Crusaders playing with.
The colors receded, and Twilight saw a small stone cottage come into view, floating in the middle of nothingness and everythingness. Death drew Binky down into the yard and the horse stopped. An old man with a hunched back and a scowl – the kind where one could tell at a glance this is the expression he is most comfortable making – approached them and took the reins from Death.
Thank you, Albert. Please stable him. Death climbed off Binky and moved to unclip Twilight’s cart.
Albert looked at Twilight and sniffed. “Her too?”
“That won’t be necessary, thank you,” Twilight replied. She stepped out of the cart and followed Death into the cottage. The moment they passed through the entryway Twilight noticed the main hall was significantly larger than the cottage, with several hallways and staircases going into nothing.
Death led Twilight through the cottage to a small room with a desk and a bookshelf. He unstrapped His sword from his waist and set it in an umbrella holder that already contained a scythe.
A moment, please.
Death approached a bookshelf in the room and reached up a bony hand to pull down one of the books. He began to flip through it, blue stars of eyes glowing brightly and wavering back and forth in His eye sockets.
“Is there anything I could do to help?” Twilight asked.
Death raised His head. No. But this may take a few minutes. I don’t often consult the manual on pony deaths. He pointed to a door to the side. You may browse my library, if you wish.
Contrary to all her usual lack of emotion up to this point from the moment of her death, the mention of a library made Twilight smile. She trotted up to the door and pushed it open.
Her jaw dropped.
A cavern impossibly massive loomed before her, so far she couldn’t see the ceiling nor the other end. Bookshelves thousands of feet high stretched overhead and miles into the room.
“How… what?” Twilight stepped back, awed by the sight.
The Library of the Dead. Books documenting the lives of all who have ever lived and who live now.
“Amazing…” Twilight slowly shook her head. “I… I’ve never seen anything like it…”
Don’t get too excited. Most of them make for dull reading.
“I’ll be the judge of that!” Twilight extended her wings and flew into the room.
Miss Sparkle?
Twilight lifted her head from the Book of Prince Hashim II and looked down. She saw only darkness, high up as she was. She put the book back on the shelf and flew down. After almost twenty seconds of flight she saw a light come into view, a lamp held by Death. She landed in front of Him.
“Yes?”
Forgive my lateness, I had to deal with a matter of importance or six.
Twilight scoffed. “Oh, don’t worry, I was just passing the time reading while I waited.”
Death’s eyes flickered. It has been twenty-seven Equestrian years since we last spoke.
“Well, time does fly when you have a good book!” Twilight smiled brightly.
I wouldn’t know. Death held out a hand to gesture to the door to His office. I found what to do with you. Ponies have a unique afterlife, owing to your magical nature. Your soul will be recycled and purified for reincarnation.
“Reincarnation? Into what?”
You'll have options. Celestial bodies tend to be a common trend. Then, after a period of time in an inanimate form, you'll be reborn as a pony again.
“I see.” Twilight thought for a moment, cocking her head. “Is there a rush to do that?”
Not especially, no. Why?
“Well, I have a few dozen hundred books left to read in the ‘Really Interesting’ category. And I didn’t even get started on the ‘Vaguely Interesting’, that’s a couple million.” Twilight gasped. “That reminds me, do you have any particular organization system for the shelves? I noticed a lot of books in arbitrary places. I could restructure them if you like.”
You will not be able to live again until you reincarnate.
“Are you kidding?” Twilight snorted. “I’m enjoying my death way too much to go back to living so soon. If you don’t mind, that is?”
Death hesitated before answering. I suppose not.
“Yes!” Twilight grinned and reached out a hoof to shake Death’s hand, the bones in His arm rattling. “Come back and see me in about, um, fifty or sixty years or so. I’ll show you what I came up with!” Before Death could respond, Twilight had flown back into the shelves.
Death stepped back into His office and smiled as He closed the library door.
There’s no accounting for some creatures.
So it was that Death acquired a librarian.
