Fluttershy’s burial was the saddest moment in Twilight Sparkle’s life. She was standing on the rostrum, eyes locked on the paper sheets, wrestling to keep them in place as gusts of wind threatened to blow them away. Overhead, patches of dark scud darted across the sky, brought in and then swept away by the unceasing gale. It was pelting down, and her umbrella barely protected her from the lashing rain. It felt as if the world’s end was about to come. But she didn’t care. She didn’t mind the cold, she didn’t register her shuddering. She didn’t know what streamed from her face anymore, rain or tears. Her vision was blurry, her eyes baggy and bloodshot with sorrow and fatigue, with all those nights spent scribbling futile words on and on before she would scratch them out contemptuously, scrumple the sheet and start over for the umpteenth time. Words the wind would carry away, the rain wash out, the pain tear apart. Meaningless jabber which would never bring her friend back. And yet, she had to do it. It was her dreadful duty. She raised her eyes and scanned the overcrowded square. It was hard to tell who had come. Pony of all sizes, colours and walk of life had gathered, most of them hidden under umbrellas, in a vain effort to keep dry and warm. Only in the first row did she recognise the princesses, Mayor Mare, Fluttershy’s beloved animals and her friends. One was missing, of course. Rainbow Dash had been in a coma since the accident. That stupid accident. The pegasus had lost control during one of her crazy acrobatic drills and crashed into a tree right in the middle of the small crowd which had gathered to admire her. The tree had broken under the force of the impact, and everypony, transfixed by the shock, had witnessed the enormous trunk crack, fall and smash down directly onto the helpless Fluttershy. What had been picked up from her had been but blood and pulp. [i]I should’ve done something,[/i] Twilight thought for the zillionth time. [i]I should’ve teleported her to safety rather than gawping like an idiot. I’ve failed her, and now she’s gone.[/i] In a flash, she saw Rainbow Dash, stark still in her hospital bed, her body tangled in bandages and tubes. At least she was spared the weight of the guilt. For the time being. The loud keening of the wind snatched her back to the present. She shook her head, cleared her throat and focussed on her speech. [i]They’re waiting for you. You must do it.[/i] “Fluttershy,” she began, “you… were…” She stopped. Gulped. Hesitated. “Fluttershy,” she went on with a slur in her voice. “I’m so …” Her vision blurred. She stooped, overwhelmed. The wind was buffeting her barrel. Darkness wrapped around her. She tried to regain her composure, but the world was reeling. She took one step backwards, teetered and collapsed onto the platform. “…sorry,” she finished in a whisper. Then she swooned. [hr] “What?” Celestia exclaimed, and her eyes almost popped from their sockets. “I’ve got to do this,” Twilight Sparkle said. “I can’t live with the guilt anyway. It’s too much for me to bear.” Celestia sighed. “It wasn’t your fault, Twilight. She’s gone, and Rainbow Dash is in bad shape. I don’t want to add you to that list. Give up on that crazy idea. You can’t get an appointment with Death. He doesn’t operate a claim bureau. You won’t find him, and if you do, he will take you away, and there’s nothing I’ll be able to do to bring you back.” “You don’t understand, Princess. I shall find him. I don’t mind the cost if there’s the slightest chance of bringing Fluttershy back.” “Nopony has ever gone to the kingdom of the dead and turned back alive. You have zero chance to succeed. I know it’s painful, but you must get over Fluttershy’s death.” “Get over it? How am I supposed to?” Twilight retorted. “Each night I make the same nightmare: I see that tree crashing down, I see Fluttershy pinned to the ground by fear, I see the glance she cast me at the last moment, those eyes begging me for help. And then I hear the sound of her bones snapping. And then I wake up screaming and I can’t even think going back to sleep. How can I get over it? My life is ruined.” Celestia sighed again. “Alright,” she said. “What do you want to know about him?” “Do you know him?” “Of course I know him,” Celestia replied. “He was with us when time began. He… he’s our brother.“ “Brother?!” “Yes. We were – are – a big family.” Her eyes lost focus as if she recalled old memories. “He was always stern and gruff,” she added after a while. “When the creation was over and we were given the choice over our dominion, I chose the sun, Luna chose the moon and space, and he took the underground and afterlife. Together we dug Tartarus. When it was done, he descended into it and vanished inside. I never seen him since.” “So he lives in Tartarus?” Celestia shook her head. “No. Tartarus was just the place where he set the entrance to his kingdom. There’s a gate down there, a gate he’s the only one to know the location of, a gate invisible to all living things. Even I cannot see it…” “Wonderful!” Twilight said. She looked down in dejection. “How am I supposed to find him?” Celestia pondered. “I suppose I could summon him using his name,“ she answered. “But—” “His name?“ “We all have names, Twilight. Not the ones you’re familiar with. True names, that we only are allowed to know and use. I wasn’t born Celestia, and my sister wasn’t born Luna either. Those are the names we picked up later. Our true names are names of power. Call mine and I will appear, even in the remotest place, and the same holds for all my siblings. We swore to use them only in case of extreme danger. I can’t call my brother on such an occasion. I’m sorry, Twilight, I can’t help you. You’re on your own.” Twilight looked at her mentor with supplicant eyes, but Celestia lowered her gaze. She turned to Luna, who had been sitting silently all this time between two pillars, but the blue alicorn shook her head. “Very well,” Twilight growled, in a sudden fit of anger. “You won’t help me, nopony will help me, but I’ll go. You swore an oath, let me swear another: I will find Death and come back with Fluttershy, should I wander in Tartarus for millennia.” She cast her crown from her head. It rolled on the floor until it hit the plinth of Celestia’s throne. “Tell the others I’m gone on a very, very long quest, but that I will be back with a surprise.” And with these words she teleported away in a flash. [hr] Twilight flopped onto the hard, rocky ground. She was at the end of the rope. How long had she been roving through this maze? She had lost all sense of time. Nights and days felt so alien. There was only gloom here. She had to keep her horn glowing all the time, lest she be lost to darkness eternal. And it was so creepy. Snaky tunnels meandered through the rock, sometimes leading to other identical tunnels, sometimes opening to deserted, hollow caves where the sound of her hooves reverberated. Eerie luminescent runes oozed elusive magic from the ceiling. Unexpected draughts, sometimes chilly, sometimes warm, bore wafts of odd and exotic scents. But the most unsettling was the wailing. The wailing never ceased. It was a high pitched, spooky dirge, as if remote voices chanted spells in a language long forgotten. It brought with it a baleful quality which chilled Twilight to the marrow. Sometimes, it would almost dwindle away, only to pick up strength ten steps ahead. What was it? Where did it come from? Twilight couldn’t guess. Some tunnels had huge stone gates lining them, with names carved on them. Most of those names Twilight was unfamiliar with. Only once did she stumble on a name she knew, and she shuddered and ran away when she read it, as old ominous legends came back to her mind. Behind that door lay a primeval monster, an archfiend so formidable Celestia and Luna had had to harness all their power to put it under restraint. Her mentor has once hinted at huge orichalc fetters forged in the fire of Equestria’s hottest volcano, fetters of such size even the whole city of Canterlot could easily fit inside them. Once she stumbled in front of a door, almost knocked out by the evil which radiated from inside the cell, an evil so strong it had hit her through metres of granite. She wondered who was inside, but the name on the door, [i]Astralus[/I], was unknown to her, so she walked by. And now she was lying here, in the middle of a workaday tunnel, a tiny shadow under a greater shadow, not knowing whom she was looking for nor where to find him. She drew her blanket out of the saddlebag and tucked herself under it. [I]I’ve been stupid,[/I] she thought. [I]Now I’m lost and Celestia knows how long it will take me to get out. She was right, after all, I’ll never find that door. Fluttershy’s gone for good, I must—[/I] Wait! What was that? She could swear she had heard clear syllables over the wailing. A male voice, gravelly and loud. She couldn’t understand it, but it was there. She strained her ears. Yes, definitely, somepony was yelling. She stood up, put her blanket back into her bag and galloped ahead. A minute later she came to a T, cocked her head left and right to try and locate the voice. She chose the left path. The echoes of the voice grew stronger as she ran along it. Somepony called for help. “Hold on! Hold on!” she shouted in return. Her words must have been heard, since the voice paused then yelled “Watch out! There’s a pit in the middle of the room!” Twilight slowed down as she entered a vast cave. The voice was right. Just ahead of her, a large pit gaped. “Where are you?” she asked. “Down there,” the voice answered. Tilting her head over the pit, Twilight saw, several feet under her, the shape of a unicorn standing on a minute ledge. “Keep calm,” she said, as she conjured up a simple hauling spell. A purple glow wrapped itself around the unicorn. Twilight lifted him up and deposited him onto the border of the pit. “Thanks,” the unicorn said. “I thought I was going to be trapped here forever.” Twilight peered at him. He had pitch black coat and mane, barring a single white speck on his forehead. He was wearing… a tuxedo? Indifferent to Twilight’s inspection, he brushed the dust away from his clothes, then dipped a hoof in one of its pockets. He fished a cigar out of it, that he lit with a match he dredged from the same pocket. All that didn’t make sense. “You see,” he said, after drawing a couple of puffs, “I was taking a break.” He waved his cigar. “Nowadays, with all that fuss against tobacco, you can’t enjoy even a tiny cigar inside your office without risking a riot.” He pouted. “Modernity, I guess. Anyway. I got lost in thought and didn’t see the pit. Fortunately, I managed to land onto that ledge below.” “Why didn’t you teleport out?” Twilight asked. “My magic doesn’t operate in this place,” he answered. He looked at Twilight with curious eyes. “But you, darling, what are you doing here? Don’t tell me you’re on a vacation trip.” “Me? Oh… No. Err… As a matter of fact, I’m desperately looking for… Death,” Twilight answered. She simpered. The unicorn broke into a fit of laughter. Twilight cocked an eyebrow and examined him more closely. Something was bulging under his tuxedo. Like… Wings? She was certain now. He had wings under his clothes. He was an alicorn. “Well,” he said when he had recomposed himself, “it seems you found it. I mean him. I mean me!” Twilight’s eyes widened. “You mean you’re… Death?” “Yes! It’s me. So what?” he asked. He checked himself over. “What’s wrong with that?” “Well…” Twilight hesitated. “I was expecting you looking… different maybe?” Death laughed again. “I suppose you were picturing me as in those crazy paintings? A skeleton with a scythe, or something of the same sort? The Grim Reaper? Bwahaha… What a laugh! The truth is, I like power dressing. After all, I belong. I’m the boss of one of Equestria most successful businesses. Work is never slow down there.” He drew another puff from his cigar. “But Celestia told me you were stern and gruff.” Death looked at Twilight with impish eyes. “My sister said that of me? How disappointing she still keeps slandering me outrageously after all these millennia.” He looked up at the ceiling. “Lill’ sis’, if you hear me, you’re punished. No cake for dinner.” He giggled. “Is she still so greedy for cakes?” Twilight smiled self-consciously. “Well,” Death carried on, “on the other hand, I do understand why she portrays me like that. Say, what would happen if she started trumpeting around Death’s a rakish and fun-loving guy, and the kingdom of the dead is a place where people enjoy eternal bliss? Hmm? Everypony would rush in. I’d have to curb illegal immigration. How unseemly. No, really, I’m better off with ponies fearing me, clutching at their lives until the last minute…“ “The kingdom of the dead is a place where ponies enjoy eternal bliss?” Twilight repeated. “You don’t believe me?” “Well – I mean, it’s a bit hard—” “Let me show you round,” Death cut in. He walked to Twilight and wrapped a leg around her shoulder. “It’s been a long time I haven’t had any tourist down there. Especially one so cute! Come on, sweetie!” Twilight blushed, ever so slightly. Death touched the stone wall. A gate materialised. He placed his hoof into a small dimple and the gate hinged open, revealing another narrow, dark tunnel. Death proceeded into it. “Come on!” he said. “It’s no trap. Follow me.” Twilight followed suit. As soon as she had walked past the door, it slammed shut. The light of Twilight's horn was snuffed out. Only the reddish glow of Death’s cigar remained visible. Twilight tried to recast her light spell, but it failed to work. “Why is it so dark?” Twilight asked. “Hmm?” Death replied. “Oh that! The fuses blew at the beginning of eternity, and I never got round to fix them. On the other hand, I’m not sure I really want to do it. That helps keeping the aura of the place. Just stand still for a couple of minutes, until your eyes get used to darkness.” They waited. After a short while, Twilight began to make out the shape of her guide and the walls of the tunnel. “All right,” she said, “I can see you, more or less.” “Perfect!” Death replied. “Let’s go ahead then.” He resumed walking. Twilight fell into step and both went on for a couple of minutes, until they reached a sharp bend. Just after it, the tunnel ended with a door. Frosted glass panes let a bright light filter through it. Death turned the knob and the door opened. Twilight reflexively put a leg over her eyes to screen them from the glare. When she could see again, she stood at the threshold of a vast open space room. Scads of mares sat at desks, in front of strange machines. Light poured from overhead slits. Opposite the room, a magnificent picture window was overlooking a bright landscape, as far as Twilight could tell from where she was. “This is my office,” Death said. “All these mares—” He walked to the nearest one, a young, orange coated mare and patted her on the back. “—work for me, 24/7. There’s no lull in my business. Dead keep coming at every hour, night and day. My employees have a good job though. Secure position, cosy shifts, great perks, top insurance, etc. Aren’t you happy here?” he asked the mare. “Sure, sir,” she answered. “This office,” Death continued, gesturing around with a hoof, “is top notch. Switchable A/C, unobtrusive lighting, purified air, outside noise reduction. Also—” he pointed to several machines in a corner “— free food and water dispensing machines, if anyone gets peckish or parched.” He leaned towards Twilight. “They can even use Internet if they want to,” he whispered at her ear. “I really like to cocoon them.“ Twilight was completely befuddled. And lost in concepts she had never heard about. “Where did you get all this?” she asked. “How do you mean?” “All that stuff. Machines. Desks. Lights.” “Ah! At the annual death fair, of course. Where else?” “Death fair?” “Yeah. The death fair. It’s a great event to attend, believe me. There’s a large exposition room where companies sell everything that’s needed to operate the business. And it’s also [I]the[/i] place to meet my peers and carouse together!” “Your peers? You mean—” “Sure! Each universe has his own death lord. We form an association, and exchange experiences, discuss groundbreaking advances in death management, and so on.” Twilight tried to imagine what could such a symposium look like, but she failed. The mere concept was eluding her. “What are all those mares doing?” she finally asked. “They’re my immigration service!” He chuckled. “They register every newcomer. They create a file with name, age, marital status, parents, children, etc. Well, when I say files, that was before we bought computers and digitalised all the data. Before that, the room was lined up with dozen of shelves, and it was really unwieldy. Now—” “Computers?” Twilight cut in. Death looked at Twilight with perplexed eyes. “Never mind,” he finally said. “Death is serious business. I have to keep track of anyone in there. It’s critical. I can’t afford losing one single soul. But enough rambling. Come over here.” He motioned Twilight towards the picture window. “Have a look on the land of the departed.” Twilight walked to the window and gasped. The view was breathtaking, as if she were standing on the edge of an eagle’s nest, thousands of metres above the ground. Far below forests, meadows, small lakes and hills rolled on as far as the eye could see. Scattered over this lush landscape, small villages crowned with plumes of smoke sprawled lazily in their verdant cradles. A bright light, too diffuse to be the sun, radiated from above. Flocks of birds, tiny black flecks from this far away, wandered from grove to grove. Peace and serenity emanated from the place. “I can’t believe it,” Twilight whispered. “It’s… gorgeous!” “Thank you!” Death said. “To be honest, I’m quite proud of it. It took me a long time to get things the way they are. Underground irrigation. Basin architecture. Hills forming. Villages design. Overhead lighting, all LED now, to minimise the energy footprint. I like to boast my world has an environmentally responsible ruler.” “Impressive,” Twilight added. She had no idea what Death had just said. There was a short pause. “By the way, purple honey,” Death said. “Why the hell…” He chuckled. “I’m sorry,” he added, “I can’t resist bad jokes. So hmm… Yes. Why were you looking for me?” Twilight turned around. “I wanted to ask you… I mean… I have a friend who recently—” “Say no more!” Death interrupted. “Come with me in my office. Such things are best discussed in private.” Death showed Twilight into a large office, and closed the door behind her. He gestured her towards a large armchair, and sat opposite her across the desk. “So,” he said. “You want me to send your friend back in your world? Don’t you think she might be happy there?” “I… I don’t know,” Twilight replied. She was feeling very self-conscious. “She died in a stupid accident. It was not my fault, but I could’ve teleported her away just before it happened. I can’t help but thinking she died because of me, because I failed her. I mean…” She hesitated. “I know it’s selfish, but can you send her back? We all miss her up there. Badly. And all the animals she was caring for do, too.” Death swivelled his chair aside. He seemed to ponder. “All accidents are stupid. I guess you saved my life,” he muttered after a while, “and I’m beholden to you.” He grumbled something, then he swivelled back to face Twilight. “Let’s do this,” he proposed. “I’m going to summon you friend over here. You can talk together and decide what’s best for… for?” “…her. Fluttershy.” Twilight said. “That’s her name.” “Fine. But look. If ever she decides to go back with you, you must swear to keep the secret. One of my peers once had a bad experience. There was that guy – what was his name… Arpheos? Orpheas? I don’t remember – anyway, his wife dies. Guy comes before my peer, begs him to give his wife back. Peer, goodhearted and a bit gullible, grants him his wish but makes him swear not too look back at his wife until he’s out. Guy doesn’t keep his promise, peer gets into a lot of trouble with local authorities. I don’t want that, right?” “I shall be silent as the grave,” Twilight said. Death smiled, and flicked a switch on. He spoke into an unknown device. “Tuba Mirum,” he said, “per rule A.335b, could you print the file of miss Flutterby?“ “Fluttershy,” Twilight corrected. “Sorry. Fluttershy,” Death carried on. “She’s arrived very recently. Thanks!“ He flicked the switch off. “We should get her whereabouts in just a few seconds,” he said to Twilight. “Computers are really wonderful.” There was a short pause. Death shuffled through papers, and Twilight let her eyes rove idly around the room. The walls were white and bare. Decor was minimal. But on her right, behind Death’s desk, another door was slightly ajar. Through the chink, she caught a glimpse of what she thought was a unmade bed. At that moment, somepony knocked at the door. Death looked up. “Come in!” he bellowed. The door opened and a white, good looking mare in a straight jacket appeared on the threshold. “I’m sorry, sir,” she said. “No trace of anypony named Fluttershy in our database.” “That can’t be, miss Mirum. Everyone gets registered when he arrives. There must be some sort of error. Show me!” He stood up, rounded his desk and exited. Twilight followed behind. The secretary sat at her desk, Death and Twilight gathered round her. She typed on the keyboard, and simultaneously ‘FLUTTERSHY’ appeared on the screen. “Is that the correct way to spell it?” Tuba Mirum asked. “Yes,” Twilight replied. Tuba Mirum hit a big key. There was an imperceptible lag, and the message ‘FILE NOT FOND’ flashed on the screen. “Voilà!” the secretary said. “No Fluttershy, as I said.” “But, but—” Twilight stuttered. “She—” “Did you try to trick me, miss Sparkle?” Death asked, and his voice suddenly sounded rough and ominous. “I warn you, I don’t like that sort of joke.” “I… No… How do you know my—? No, Fluttershy is dead, she must be here! There has to be an error. Your computer. Check again, please.” Twilight felt a sudden panic wash over her. “Miss Sparkle – yes, I know your name. And let me tell you, I don’t find this funny at all. I have total confidence in my staff. They’ve been working for millennia and never made any mistake, so I won’t accept any accusation from anypony, be it my sister’s protégée. Your friend is not here, full stop.” He took a glance at the wall clock overhead, then glowered back at Twilight. “I think I have lost enough time with you and your sick humour. Now if you will excuse me…” He grasped Twilight inside his magic, and swept her across the room and through a door labelled ‘emergency exit’, “I have serious business to attend to. Goodbye miss Sparkle, and may we never meet again!” The door slammed shut, and Twilight found herself back in darkness. “NOOOOO!!!! PLEEEAAASE!!!” Twilight screamed desperately, but nothing happened. She flopped onto the ground and for long minutes smashed her hooves on the rock, sobbed and wailed, until exhaustion took her and she passed out. [hr] When she came round all was still dark. How was she feeling? She didn’t know yet. She rose to all fours, and lit her horn. She was standing in the middle of a small tunnel. A few steps behind her, the tunnel ended with a rock wall. No sign of a door, nothing to hope on this side. She sighed, checked her belongings, turned round and set out. She took a few steps and froze. Something peculiar was happening. The walls of the tunnel were losing substance. They were fading away, letting a bright light seep through. A couple of seconds later, they were gone. Twilight found herself in the middle of a meadow. She looked around. She knew this place. She was in the outskirts of Ponyville. Not far away ahead of her, she spotted a small group of ponies standing at the edge of a thicket. What? She shook her head. Who was that yellow mare with a pink mane in the middle of it? Could it be…? She galloped towards the group. They all were looking up, as if watching something in the sky. Twilight skidded to a halt. “Fluttershy?!” she called out. Fluttershy turned her head. “Hey Twilight!” she said. “Fluttershy? How…? What are you doing here? I mean…” “Shhh!” Fluttershy replied, and she put a hoof over her mouth. “We’re watching Rainbow Dash perform her last acrobatic tricks.” Twilight raised her head. Far above, the pegasus was soaring along a wide arc, her wings fully outstretched. When she reached the apex of her trajectory, she folded her wings and dove down at breakneck speed. “Ooooh!” the crowd exclaimed in awe. Twilight tensed. It rung a bell, but what was it? Suddenly she realised. There was no time to lose. A ray of magic shot from her horn and wrapped around Rainbow Dash, who was stopped in mid-air. Twilight then guided the pegasus gently down, and deposited her next to Fluttershy. She broke the spell, and pounced on both of them, pinning them down in a tight hug. “Hey!” Rainbow Dash protested. “Gross!” Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash still wonder what happened to Twilight at this instant. Far, far below, or maybe in another dimension, Death walked to Tuba Mirum’s desk. “Can you check for ‘Fluttershy’ again, please?” he asked. The secretary nodded, punched the name, then the ⮐ key. ‘FILE NOT FOUND’ appeared on the screen. “Miss Mirum,” Death said, “next time you fake a message, try and avoid typos, right?” He turned around and walked into his office with a smile on his face.