Death's Apprentice

Death's Apprentice

by Phil-Osophy

Summary: Death isn't as young as he used to be, ten thousand years as the keeper of souls has driven him to exhaustion. So when a certain orange filly meets her doom. Death decides to take her on as his apprentice, the next 'Grim Reaper'.

Chapter Three - Training Begins

At the end of the day Scootaloo came back to find Death sitting on the sofa in the living room, a newspaper hovering in front of him. When he noticed she was there the newspaper disappeared and he stood up.

"Ah! You're back. Have a good day?" he said.

"Aside from this morning. Yeah, I guess." Scootaloo responded unenthusiastically.

"Good. Because we have a lot of work to do tonight."

Scootaloo groaned.

"Can't I rest first?" she complained.

"No," said Death. "And that's one of the things I'll be teaching you."

Scootaloo sent him a questioning glance, so he continued.

"I'm sure that aside from not being able to sleep and not getting hungry, you've noticed a few more things are different now that you've died?" Scootaloo winced at the mention of her death, but responded nonetheless.

"A few things, I think," she said. Death motioned with his hoof for her to go on. "Well, I could hear stuff better." Death nodded.

"Enhanced senses are a useful side effect of being undead. At some points they can become bothersome, as you found out today, but they're easily controllable. After some practise you'll find it relatively easy to manipulate the range of your senses to an extent." Death explained.

"For now however," he said, walking up to Scootaloo and placing a hoof on her shoulder. "I'll make good on my promise to teach you how to decorate your room."

Death teleported them to a clear field. Scootaloo had only been teleported once or twice by Twilight in certain circumstances, but she immediately decided, now she was properly paying attention, that she liked Death's version a lot better. When Twilight had teleported with her she'd felt as if all the air was compressed out of her lungs and there was a blinding flashing light. When Death did it there was no discomfort, and all that passed over her eyes was a second of darkness, like blinking. The best way Scootaloo could think to describe was that if Death's version was carriage taking you to your destination, Twilight's was just throwing you from one place to the next.

"Why are we here?" said Scootaloo, looking around. "I thought you were going to teach me how to decorate my room using magic?"

"I am," said Death. "It's just sometimes the results can be... explosive." Scootaloo's fur stood on edge. Did he just say explosive?

"We also need to enter the plane of the dead." Death's scythe appeared in front of him, hovering in the air. "Stand still, this may be a little uncomfortable.". Before Scooterloo could react, he tapped her on the head gently with the scythe. It was as if a bucket of cold water had been pored down her back. Scootaloo yelped as all colour and sound drained from the world. All she could hear were the sounds herself and Death were making. Including Death's chuckles.

"That wasn't funny!" Scootaloo yelled. Death just continued to chuckle, the scythe disappearing without fanfare.

"My apologies, but it's easier for your first time using magic if we're here and not in the living plane."

"Why?" said Scootaloo, annoyed. She didn't like it when ponies laughed at her.

"If not food, what do you think sustains us Scootaloo?"

Scootaloo hesitated before answering.

"Magic?"

"Right you are, but for living ponies most of their magic comes from the food they eat. How do you think we survive without it?" Scootaloo shrugged, she didn't know.

"It's quite simple really," said Death. "When a pony becomes non-living. They become essentially non-material. They don't need a body. Whereas to a living pony, the spirit and body are intrinsically linked; upon death they are separated. The body is dead, but the spirit remains."

He placed a hoof on Scootaloo's torso.

"In a way, you were quite accurate when you said that you were a zombie earlier. If a unicorn were to cast a necromantic identification spell at your or me, they would come to the conclusion that our bodies were simply possessed, since that's what we are. Spirits possessing bodies."

"I don't understand." said Scootaloo. "Do you mean that I'm a ghost now then?"

"It's a crude way of expressing it, and I'd prefer you to use the term 'spirit'." said Death. "But you are essentially correct. Still, all of that doesn't explain how you or I is able to exist without food. Instead, we get our magic from a different source."

Death motioned to their monochrome surroundings.

"Here! Every single time a pony dies or a pony is born, those acts cause a huge amount of energy to enter this plane of existence. Everything that exists here is saturated in it. Pure energy, pure magic. It is that pool of magic which allows us to survive without eating, without a body, and perform magic."

Death's scythe appeared in front of him and he swept it in a long arc. An ornate table materialised in the air, falling to ground.

"All matter can be turned into energy, all energy into matter. With the proper concentration and practise, there is no limit to what can be made. Providing you have enough energy of course." His scythe swept back and forth, objects forming and dropping to the floor . Chairs, beds, pillows, vases, paintings, boxes and numerous objects Scootaloo had never seen before.

"Can you summon anything living?" said Scootaloo. Death paused for a moment and turned to her.

"You could create a body girl. But you can't create a soul to fill it. All it will be is decaying organic matter. Even if you can make it function properly. Such automatons will never be able to truly replicate the living."

"Oh. Makes sense I guess." said Scootaloo. Death bent down to her level and looked her in the eyes.

"Indeed. On that note Scootaloo. I forbid you to attempt it. Some things are better left unexplored. Do I make myself clear?" Scootaloo nodded.

"Good! Now let's set about creating your first object. Or, to use the technical term: Summoning."

"Focus girl! Hold the image of the object clearly in your mind." said Death for what felt to Scootaloo like many times too many.

In front of her, laying innocently on the grass was a simple child's building block. It was made of wood, oak to be exact. On a single face it had a large capital 'A' painted on it in red paint. Scootaloo knew this because for the past half an hour she had been examining it, feeling it, hearing what is sounded like, even tasting it. All while Death barked instructions at her.

"Three simple steps Scootaloo, Imagine, Infuse, Actualise. I.I.A. Visualise the object, infuse the concept with magic and the concept becomes reality. It's simple!"

"I know it's bucking simple," yelled Scootaloo, kicking the block, sending it bounding across the field. Scootaloo immediately felt pain in her front leg and winced. "I just can't do it. I'm sorry!" Angry tears started to well up in her eyes but Scootaloo blinked them away. Death sighed.

"Alright," he said gently. "Let's try a different approach. Which one of your own possessions do you think you know the most?"

"My scooter." Scootaloo said immediately. She'd saved up money she'd scrounged for weeks to by that scooter. She'd seen one a few weeks after arriving in Ponyville. The foal playing in on it was much older than Scootaloo and much more skilled. To a pegasi who didn't know how to fly, it sang to all her instincts. To go flying through the air... free.

"Then let's try to summon a copy of that."

Scootaloo didn't think trying to summon her scooter would help. If she couldn't even summon a wooden block how was she to summon a whole scooter? But nevertheless she tried. She closed her eyes and thought of how the handle grips felt against her skin, how cool it looked. Soon enough she had an image of her scooter in her mind's eye.

"I've got it." she whispered, not wanting to break the hold she had on the image.

"Good," said Death slowly. "Now draw out your magic. Don't try to think about doing it, just do it. Like moving a limb. You don't think about moving it. You just move it."

For the first time, Scootaloo felt her magic. Death was right, it was just like using a limb, flexing some mental muscle to open up the flood gates and allow the magic to flow through her. Hearing a popping sound, Scootaloo opened her eyes to see a small object fall to the ground. Disheartened, Scootaloo picked up the single grey handlebar she'd summoned.

"Very good!" said Death happily. Scootaloo looked at him, confused

"What do you mean? I only managed to summon the handlebar." she protested. Death brushed off her disappointment,

"Only? I wouldn't expect even Princess Celestia to summon a full scooter on her first try." Scootaloo still looked disappointed. Death patted her on the head, causing Scootaloo to look up at him with surprise.

"You did well Scootaloo. I'm glad I chose you as my apprentice." Scootaloo looked away and blushed.

"Now then," said Death, walking away. "Now that you've done it once it'll become easier with practise. I a few days you'll be able to summon bigger and more complex things. For now though I want you to practise summoning that block. By the time I've returned I'll "

With those parting words he disappeared. Scootaloo supposed she couldn't monopolise all of his time. After all, the reason she was here was because he couldn't deal with the amount of people who were dying. Scootaloo looked at the wooden block which was still laying on the monochrome grass with narrowed eyes.

She would be a good apprentice.

"Spike! Have you found it yet?" Books flew out of shelves, each contained in a magic aura. One by one they floated towards the unicorn manipulating them. Each was dismissed in turn as she glanced at their covers before moving them back into their rightful place on the shelves.

"Twilight I don't think it's in here!" responded her favourite and only assistant from where he was in the basement.

"It has to be in here Spike! Where else could it be?"

"I don't know... maybe you lost it?" All the book's froze in mid air.

"What did you just say!" Twilight yelled, outraged.

"Err... nothing." said Spike desperately.

"That's what I thought. Nothing." the books resumed their movements. After another few minutes Spike poked around head out of the door to the basement. He rubbed his bloodshot eyes and yawned.

"Twilight, we've been at this for four hours now and we've checked every single book in the library and basement three times. We aren't going to find it." he said.

"You don't know that!" said Twilight, turning around to look at Spike. She wasn't in that much of a better state herself. Her hair was frizzy and her eyes bloodshot, a clear indicator of her stress. "We must have missed it! We'll just have to try again. Get searching!"

"No Twilight." said Spike obstinately, folding his arms. "I'm going to bed, neither of us have slept in like eighteen hours. I'll see you in the morning."

Twilight watched as her Spike angrily walked up the stairs to his basket. When she saw how he was struggling to get up the stairs her face softened. Piling the books she still held in her magic onto the floor, she levitated Spike the rest of the way.

"Sorry Spike," she said. "You get some rest. You've earned it." Spike just grunted, then moved out of Twilight's sight. Twilight sighed.

Spike was right. Wherever the book was, it wasn't in the library.

"It was probably a long shot anyway..." Twilight grumbled to herself. She walked into the kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee before returning to her desk. The desk was an overflowing mess of parchment and ink, surrounded by neat piles of books. At the centre of the orderly chaos was a large blackboard covered in symbols, complex thaumaturgical formulae and technical terms only understandable to the most knowledgeable of magical scholars.

Twilight sighed as she surveyed her work. She usually wasn't one to swear, but in certain times it was called for. Spell creation was such a nag of a field of magic. The spell she had chosen to work with was a simple dictation enchantment. It would be so useful to be able to record everything said on paper without having to use Spike all the time. Not to mention the many practical applications for the spell in the equestrian courts system, in the bureaucracy etc.

But as little as Twilight wanted to admit it, it was clear she'd been too ambitious. There were too many calculations for even her well trained mind to follow easily. She'd hit a wall and had been looking for the one book on spell creation that might have helped her. But it seemed that was missing.

Twilight took a long drink from her coffee cup. She was stumped. Without that book, she would make no progress on this spell. She could ask Celestia for help. But something in her heart felt like that would be cheating. Celestia was practically a god. Even if she could make time for her faithful student, she probably wouldn't be much help anyway. The princess thought it was best to let ponies figure these kind of things out for themselves.

The various other scholars in Canterlot and Manehatten wouldn't be much use either. Twilight needed help now, not in a few days. She loved Ponyville to bits but it was terribly inconvenient to be away from the hub of magical innovation that was Canterlot. Most ponies in Ponyville hadn't taken their formal education past what was required by law, preferring more vocational education.

But then Twilight's mood brightened. There was one pony she could go to perhaps...

She drained the rest of her cup and then set about putting various parchments into her saddlebags. Although Spike had gone to bed, and she herself hadn't slept in twenty four hours, it was still only six o'clock in the evening. Twilight had very much enjoyed her previous conversation that morning with Soul Ink. Perhaps he could help her. She only hoped he wasn't busy.

The queen surveyed her kingdom, in all of it's majestic beauty. She had worked hard for her kingdom, to construct it with her bare hooves from the most basic of components. But all of her hard work had paid off. Now she sat on her throne, unchallenged, crown on head and sceptre in hoof.

To say that within a single hour Scootaloo had improved was somewhat of an understatement. She sat on a pyramid of summoned wooden blocks upon which sat a wooden stool. The crown on her head was also made of wood (although it looked more like a party hat than anything else, it was all she could manage) as was the sceptre, which she was particularly proud of since it had her name engraved on the side.

The problem with being queen, Scootaloo had decided, was that when you had achieved everything you'd set out to achieve, there was very little else to do. Idly she summoned another block, letting it clatter off of the pyramid to the growing pile of blocks below. She could summon them with hardly a thought now, so familiar was the object. The crown and sceptre had take a lot more work.

"Enjoying yourself dear?" Scootaloo fell off her stool and was about to tumble down the pyramid before she was hoisted into the air by Death's magic. "Oh how I do enjoy the enthusiasm of youth." he lamented to the upside down filly.

"Put me down!" said Scootaloo angrily. Death ignored her.

"You've done well Scootaloo, extremely well in fact." he said. "I especially like what you've done with the crown and such, very impressive. Especially since I didn't ask you to experiment like that." The aforementioned objects floated with Scootaloo as she blushed from the praise.

"Well you didn't say I couldn't do it." she pointed out hesitantly. Death smiled.

"Indeed I did not. You've done extremely well Scootaloo and I would have asked you to experiment with shape anyway. But I must urge you to show more caution in the future. Some magics are not to be experimented with without precaution."

"Sorry." she muttered, rolling her eyes.

"Now now, like I said you've achieved great things today Scootaloo. I'm rarely surprised, but you've managed it. I believe a reward is in order."

They floated down to the ground and the pyramid of blocks disappeared, leaving only the crown and sceptre behind. Death materialised his scythe  and put Scootaloo down. Scootaloo waited excitedly for her reward. With a single swish of his scythe, a huge array of ramps and platforms appeared suspended in the air. Slowly they floated down onto the ground, Scootaloo watching with awe.

"There we go!" said Death happily. "One skate-park, Las Pegasus' skate-park if I'm correct."

"This is so cool!" Scootaloo yelled, jumping into the air. "How did you do that!" Death smirked.

"Summoning my dear. It shan't be long until you can do that, at least in the plane of the dead. It's much harder to summon the energy in the plane of the living, not to mention that most summoned objects here dissolve in a few days, the matter decays too quickly... but I digress. Have fun." Scootaloo's scooter, in all it's glory appeared in front of her, as did her helmet, both bleached of colour. Scootaloo lovingly caressed the helmet before putting it on, jumping onto the scooter. She was halfway to skatepark before she turned back around to Death.

"Wait" she said. "How am I supposed to get back, and won't somebody notice that a whole skatepark has appeared in the middle of a field? How do you know what Las Pegasus skate-park looks like anyway?" Death frowned.

"I know what it looks like because I've been there several times. Skating isn't perhaps the safest sport, as you well know." Scootaloo cringed. "Come to think of it; although you can't die again, you can get hurt so be careful. When you want to come back home just call my name and if you get hurt, I'll be there anyway."

"To answer your second question, the realm of the dead and living are fundamentally separate. Just like you can't see a person's spirit or myself talking to them when you're not dead, you can't see whatever resides in the realm of the dead while alive. Whatever it may be." Scootaloo nodded. She understood that. "I'll see you later! Have fun!"

Death disappeared. Scootaloo wooped, hopping onto the smooth wooden platform that was now in front of her and mounting her scooter. She looked over to the big ramp... then thought better of it. Maybe she'd try some of the smaller ramps first...