Teardrops and Snowflakes

Chapter 9

Pieces of conversation pierced the blackness that engulfed Twilight’s mind. Some voices she recognized, others she didn’t.

“…nothing we can do.”

“Fix her!”

“…her comfortable...”

“She’s gone. You’ll just…”

“Twilight… no… please! No!”

The last voice lifted the veil. Twilight could finally see and move. Had… had she heard crying? Why would anypony be crying and saying her name? Twilight tried to focus on the thought, but it slipped away. Her mind was grey and fuzzy. Twilight frowned but shrugged; she couldn’t seem to bring herself to care. Instead, she took stock of her surroundings.

She was in a vast sea of green. Clear blue sky met crisp green grass at all horizons save one. Light shone everywhere but Twilight could not find Celestia’s sun anywhere in the sky. A gentle wind rolled across the land, making the grass dance, but Twilight couldn’t feel it. In the distance, directly in front of her, stood a massive stone structure that towered over the flatland surrounding it. Its grey brick contrasted heavily with the vivid colors of the area, and Twilight knew that she ought to have felt a sense of foreboding coming from it. Instead, she only felt peace. Her hooves moved of their own accord, drawn to the structure by some unknown force.

Every so often Twilight thought she heard voices. When she tried to focus on them, however, her mind went blank. She yawned; all she really wanted to do was lie down in the soft grass around her and take a nap. Her hooves wouldn’t stop moving, though, and brought her ever closer to the bleak-looking landmark.

Time seemed to mean nothing in this place. Twilight was unable to tell if it was hours or seconds that were passing; the only constant was the building. Phantom voices continued to tease her ears, seemingly carried on the non-existent wind; Twilight mused that in other circumstances she would be annoyed, but right now she only felt sleepy and muddled.

After what could have been an eternity or a moment, Twilight reached the base of the structure. It was even more massive than she had previously thought. Each weathered, grey brick was twice as big as she was and the structure itself stretched up as far as she could see. The structure did not cast a shadow that Twilight could see. A small door was embedded in the wall she faced and, to her surprise, an earth pony sat next to it, calmly chewing on a piece of hay. Twilight’s hooves brought her closer but it was the earth pony that spoke first, his voice warm and soothing.

“Twilight Sparkle: It certainly took you long enough to get here.” He chuckled. “What happened, you stop to smell the daisies?”

Twilight studied the stallion. His coat was a light grey, reminding her of a storm cloud, and his mane was the deep black of a starless night sky. His body was muscular, but not overly so, and he carried himself with an air of superiority. His eyes were the most striking thing about him. Two deep, emerald pools drew Twilight into their depths. She noticed that he did not have a cutie mark. He was a stallion that wore his presence like a cloak around him. Under normal circumstances Twilight would have been intimidated.

“Who are you?” Twilight asked, drawing closer. “And how do you know my name?”

Again the stallion chuckled, his voice seeming to resonate in the air around her. “Oh come now, Twilight. You haven’t figured it out yet? I thought you were smarter!”

Twilight felt her indignation rise momentarily before being whisked off by the fuzziness. ‘What’s wrong with me?’ she thought briefly. “Sorry, It’s just… my mind is fuzzy or something. I can’t focus.”

The stallion nodded. Was that pity in his eyes? “Ah, of course. I apologize, sometimes I forget what this place does to… other ponies. Allow me to introduce myself: I am Death.”

Twilight shot Death a quizzical look. “Death? Like… death Death? Like the end of life Death?”

Death smirked, clearly amused by Twilight’s description of him. “Indeed: I am the Keeper of Souls, the Leader of the Lost, the Gate-Watcher, the Eternal Judge; it is I who watches over this place.” He gestured around him, indicating the sea of grass.

Twilight struggled to comprehend. The fuzziness was like a film around her brain that she constantly had to cut through, only to have it grow back twice as thick. Her apathy was gradually turning into annoyance; she needed to think! “What… uh… what is this place exactly?”

Death looked away from Twilight. His gaze was fixed on something–somewhere–far beyond his gaze. “These are the Fields of the Lost: the place between life and death, where souls wander until they can accept their fate.”

Twilight’s forehead creased, her mind working in overdrive to try and think through the film. “So… I’m… dead?”

Death’s eyes flashed as he reestablished eye contact with Twilight. “Bingo.”

Twilight took an involuntary step back. Dead? She couldn’t be dead! She was still young! And… and… there was something else; something at the edge of her mind that she couldn’t quite grasp. She couldn’t die! Twilight shook her head violently and turned on Death, determined to get answers before she forgot her questions again: anger gave her mind the edge it needed to form thoughts. “How did I die? Why can’t I think? What are those voices I keep hearing? Tell me!”

Death was silent, holding Twilight’s gaze; she suddenly felt very cold. Death didn’t seem so friendly anymore. He spoke, his voice quiet and menacing, “Regardless of how friendly I seem, Miss Sparkle, you would do well to remember who I am: I will not tolerate disrespect, no matter how frightened or confused you are.” Twilight’s gaze dropped to the ground and she backed up another step, suddenly fearful. Then the air lightened and Death returned to his previously relaxed form. His voice was back to its warm, soothing tone.

“You’re having a difficult time thinking because you aren’t completely dead. Your soul is trapped here in limbo and can’t decide whether or not it wants to give up the fight. The ‘fuzziness’ you described? That is death. Death is, above all, an escape from all of your mortal worries and troubles. As for your other questions… those are not for me to answer.”

Twilight trembled. Now that the fog had a name, she was afraid of it. She didn’t want to be touched by death. She didn’t want to die. She glanced up as the wind she couldn’t feel blew over the field again. Again she heard the voices. Twilight strained to make sense of them but they were too distant, too muffled. She sighed and noticed the massive structure once again. She had forgotten about it upon meeting Death. Twilight was willing to bet he had that effect on everyone. “What’s in there?” she asked, indicating the structure.

Death glanced over his shoulder. “It has many names. Some have called it Paradise. Some have called it The End. Me? I call it Death’s Embrace. It is the final resting place of all ponies. When souls are finished wandering these fields, they come here.” He shook his head in a sympathetic gesture. “Not even the mighty alicorns can resist death when it is their time; Death claims everypony in the end.”

Twilight stared at the tower for a few moments, and then glanced back at Death. “Are… are you going to force me into the tower?”

Death shook his head back and forth slowly, his emerald eyes never leaving Twilight’s. “Contrary to popular belief, I am not a reaper; I am simply a guide. You will enter the tower when the time is right for you.”

Twilight studied Death’s face, looking for any sign of deception. “What are the alternatives?”

Death looked away again, fixing his gaze on the same far-off point as before. “There is only one alternative, and that is to become an eternal wanderer. You would spend the rest of eternity wandering these unchanging fields, slowly becoming consumed by the ‘fuzziness’ you described until you were no more than a shell being controlled by the puppet master that is death.”

Twilight felt a coldness grip her being. She figured that without the film it would be sadness or maybe fear. She didn’t know. “There’s no other option? None at all?”

Again Death shook his head, but remained silent. Twilight bit her lower lip in concentration. She could feel death gripping her mind harder than ever. It wanted her. “Wh… what happens… inside the tower?”

Death chuckled. “It’s been a very long time since anypony asked me that. Unfortunately, I cannot tell you.”

Twilight was incredulous. “What? Why not?”

Again the air chilled and Death’s face became menacing. “I just can’t. You will simply have to accept the answer.”

Twilight gulped. That cold feeling from before was definitely sadness. This was fear. Death morphed back into his normal state and Twilight looked at the sky. It was so beautiful out here… maybe she should just become an eternal wanderer…

What? No! Twilight shook her head violently. That was the film of death talking. She didn’t want to become a shell. If there was really no other option… the tower seemed to be her best bet. Twilight sighed. “Fine, I don’t want to become a shell. Allow me to enter the tower.”

Death stepped closer to Twilight, bringing the space between them to a mere two hoofsteps, and stared at Twilight. “Do you understand that once you enter that tower there is no turning back? You will die. There will be no in-between limbo; you will be truly dead, period.”

Twilight gulped again, though whether it was from the proximity of Death or the statement he had just made she didn’t know. “I… I do.”

Death’s stare lingered for a moment, searching for any doubt. Finally he nodded. “Very well. Wait a moment and I will open the tower.” He walked over to the door and placed his two front hooves against it. He began to chant in a deep, dry voice. The voice put all of Twilight’s nerves on edge and cut through the fog like a razor: this was the true voice of Death. The volume rose with each passing second, forcing Twilight to cover her ears. The voice resonated throughout the fields, causing Twilight’s teeth to vibrate; then it stopped.

Death removed his hooves and let out a deep breath as the tower doors opened with a massive groan. He turned towards Twilight, his face carefully arranged in a mask that showed nothing. He bowed. “May Death’s Embrace grant you the peace you seek.”

Twilight slowly got up. She looked at the door to the tower, expecting to see some kind of room, but all she could see was darkness. Pure, infinite darkness. She took slow steps forward, feeling called towards the door. The darkness promised peace… an escape… happiness. She gingerly put one hoof inside the threshold, testing the darkness. It felt surprisingly warm. It was like stepping into a warm relaxing bath after a hard day of studying: it was divine.

Barely suppressing a yell of glee, Twilight Sparkle lept into the Void of death and was consumed.

Twilight floated in the sea of dark warmth. The fuzziness was gone, but she couldn’t remember why that was a good thing. She couldn’t remember anything. She was… happy? No, that wasn’t right. She was… nothing. She didn’t feel anything, she didn’t remember anything, she was just… there.

Twilight heard soft, comforting whispers of “Welcome Home,” and “We love you.” She relaxed, drifting in a sea of comfort and love: this was pure bliss. Then the tendrils came. They were slightly darker than the rest of the nothing and moved towards Twilight slowly. Twilight’s first reaction was to frown and try to remember what emotion she should feel, but the soothing voices assured her that everything would be alright. As Twilight relaxed, the tendrils reached her and embraced her in a cocoon of darkness. The comforting voices were cut off and Twilight was left completely and utterly alone.

A single, thread-like tendril snaked down from the cocoon directly above Twilight’s chest and entered Twilight’s body. Once inside, it began to systematically erase everything that distinguished Twilight from the Void. It began with her flesh and blood and bones. Those were useless in the Void: in the Void everyone was everything; the Void was a collective. Next, it went for her mind: thoughts and memories also meant nothing; the Void had the experiences of an infinite amount of people to draw from. A single individual’s memories were simply harvested and stored for the use of the collective Void. Finally, the tendril went for Twilight’s soul: It was the one thing that set living ponies apart from dead ones; it was the one thing that must be eradicated. The tendril dove in, determined to do its duty for the Void.

The first thing it noticed was the light; where the normal pony’s soul was dark and shriveled by this time, Twilight’s soul was still glowing. It was merely an ember, but it was still unsettling. Steeling its resolve, the tendril attacked, bashing itself against the light. Then everything exploded.

A white, purifying fire flowed through Twilight; it exterminated the tendril and dissolved the cocoon around her: It rebuilt her flesh and bones; it pumped fresh, life-giving blood through her veins; it rushed through her entire being, making her glow. When the fire reached her brain, Twilight screamed: she was bombarded by thousands of memories at once. Twilight saw a pony in her mind’s eye; she knew it was a mare, but didn’t know how. Her azure coat was pristine and her mane was the most beautiful color of white-silver Twilight had ever seen.

Another memory took its place: the same mare was standing over her, caring in her eyes. Twilight was asleep, but she heard the pony say: “I know who you really love, Twilight Sparkle. I promise I’ll wait for you.”

Another memory: Twilight and the azure mare were walking on the streets of a city leaning against one another. Twilight was almost dead on her hooves, but the other mare looked happy and content. The smile on her face was one of pure ecstasy.

Twilight was overrun by thousands of these memories at once. Her mind screamed out a question: ‘Who is she!?’ An unknown force supplied an answer: Trixie.

Trixie. Twilight remembered everything: She remembered starting her journey, meeting Ellie and Hearthly, fighting the wolves, being cared for by Trixie. She remembered how she had traveled with Trixie and talked with her about everything. She remembered how she had ended up in the Fields of the Lost. She remembered why she couldn’t die; she remembered why she wouldn’t die: she loved Trixie with all of her being, and not even death would stop her from going back.

Twilight’s eyes shot open. She was still surrounded by the darkness of death, but the fire that had coursed through her veins was making a protective shield around her. Massive tendrils of darkness were throwing themselves against her barriers, determined to break through and rip the pony that had made a mockery of death to shreds: nobody defied the collective Void.

The tendrils smashed themselves against her barrier again and again with no success: Death couldn’t conquer pure love. The darkness howled, the sound piercing straight into Twilight’s mind and causing her to scream out in pain. Her focus wavered and the darkness seized the chance: it smashed through her weakened barrier and wrapped itself around Twilight, cutting off her air and making it impossible to move. She struggled as hard as she could but it was hopeless. She couldn’t fail now… she… she had to get back to Trixie… she…

A new blackness flickered at the corners of Twilight’s vision. How Twilight could distinguish this blackness from the new she didn’t know. What she did know was that she was about to fall unconscious. She would never see Trixie again.

Then she was flying at an impossibly fast speed. The darkness morphed into impossibly bright light, and a massive shuddering rumble shattered the peace of the world once again: Twilight was back in the Fields of the Lost.

Twilight lay in the soft grass for what could have been an eternity. Her mind was free from the film that had previously lain over it and she could feel the wind on her flank and smell the fresh scent of the grass. She could remember Trixie. Twilight would have lain there forever if a voice hadn’t startled her back into focus.

“In all of the time I have served as Death, never has the tower rejected a pony: never. I don’t know what you did, Twilight Sparkle, but apparently it is not your time to die.”

Twilight rose to her hooves unsteadily and focused her gaze on Death, who was standing only ten paces away from her and staring at her with unconcealed disbelief. She smiled broadly, overjoyed. “So… that means I can go home?”

Death composed his features and looked at Twilight with a gaze that could only be described as admiration. “I suppose so.” His expression suddenly turned somber. “Something you should know, however: you don’t die and come back to life unscathed. When you go back to the world of the living you will lose something; I’m not sure what, but rest assured, it will be something precious to you.”

Twilight just smiled again, baffling Death. “Death, there’s only one thing in the living world that is precious to me and I don’t plan on losing her any time soon. I’ll come back here and bring her back myself if I have to.”

Death laughed loudly. “I would love to see that for myself. A pony that not only escapes the clutches of death but pulls her lover back as well? Then I will have seen everything. Live well Twilight. Rest assured that I will see you again someday: as I said, nopony escapes death.”

Twilight nodded, “I’ll come back when I’m ready to die,” then her face twisted in agony: pure pain was rushing through her body. “What… what’s happening to me!?” she screamed through gritted teeth; not even death itself had been this painful.

Death looked on, a small tinge of sympathy evident in his eyes. “You don’t come back to life without any pain Twilight. It will get worse before it gets better.” He smirked. “It will be worth it though. After all, life is worth living, or so they say.”

Twilight screamed again: she couldn’t handle this; she didn’t even have a feeling to compare it to. The worst pain she could imagine paled in comparison to this. Slowly the pain lessened and Twilight began to fade. The last thing she heard was Death chuckling in his dry, jaded way.

Twilight opened her eyes immediately only to shut them again, silently whimpering in pain; the light was too much for her to handle. Agonizing minutes ticked by as she allowed them to adjust, then she opened them again.

A white plaster ceiling was the first thing she saw. The orange rays of Celestia’s sun cast long, thin beams of light across it. Twilight almost moved, but then mentally analyzed her body: she didn’t seem to hurt anywhere, but she didn’t seem to really be able to move, either. She experimentally tried to lift her left forehoof, only to realize there was a weight on it. Twilight gingerly turned her head to see what it was, nearly grunting with the massive amount of effort it took to simply accomplish the small task.

Lying on her hoof was the head of the one pony in the world Twilight wanted to see. Trixie looked terrible, even in the embrace of sleep. Her eyes were red and had dark circles under them. Her silvery mane was disheveled, and the sheet under her head was stained with fresh tears. She must have just fallen asleep. Twilight hated to wake her but she couldn’t wait any longer: she had to talk to her.

Twilight tried to call Trixie’s name but she couldn’t form words; her throat was desert dry. She looked around for some way to get Trixie’s attention but saw nothing. Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply and put all of her will into her left forehoof. She was able to slide it out from Trixie’s head fraction by fraction. When the hoof was completely removed, Trixie’s head gently hit the sheets below and she stirred, mumbling quietly.

Twilight waited patiently for Trixie to look at her, then waited again while what she was seeing registered in her mind. Trixie didn’t move. Tears began to stream down her face again and she slowly reached a hoof up to Twilight’s face, stroking her cheek gently. “Twi… Twilight? Is… are you really awake? This isn’t a dream again is it?”

Twilight smiled and shook her head slowly. Trixie hesitated a moment longer, then freaked out. She ran out into the hall screaming for the nurse and the doctor. When they came into the room they were in disbelief. When they hesitated a moment too long, Trixie galvanized them into action, magically lifting them closer and yelling at them. Mentally, Twilight giggled. ‘She must have really been worried… she’s cute when she’s angry’

A few hours later, Twilight had been refreshed. Her IV’s had been reinserted, she had been given water and fresh blood. The doctor told her that he had taken everything out when he pronounced her dead. He had tried his best to bring her back to life for almost an hour, but eventually it had seemed like a lost cause. He was at a loss for what had happened.

With fresh fluids, she actually felt pretty good. She didn’t feel good enough to walk out of the hospital, but for a mare that had been to death’s door and back she didn’t feel too bad. At least she could talk again.

The doctor insisted on running test after test in order to make sure Twilight was alright. He said that he would be able to perform more thorough tests when she was able to walk, but for the moment everything looked fine. With that, he left Twilight and Trixie alone together.

For a while, Twilight and Trixie just stared at each other: one in disbelief, the other in longing. Twilight spoke first. “So… how are—” She was cut off. Trixie had suddenly grabbed her in a tight hug, whispering in her ear.

“Don’t ever do that again Twilight… don’t die again. I can’t lose you; I won’t lose you. I… I…” She began sobbing into Twilight’s coat as Twilight held her, stroking her mane and whispering in her ear. Eventually Trixie’s sobs quieted and she composed herself, but when she tried to pull away, Twilight held her tighter, speaking quietly.

“I won’t lose you either Trixie. I… I meant to tell you this a long time ago but I never had the courage. I love you Trixie. I was never looking for a stallion when I left Ponyville: I came looking for you. After you left I couldn’t stop thinking about you, about how confident and beautiful you were. I was scared to tell you, but… well, death changes things.” She released her grip on Trixie and held her away from her so that she could look in her eyes. Trixie was staring at her, an unreadable expression on her face. Twilight suddenly got nervous.

“A… and well… I understand if you don’t return the feelings… I… I mean I just wanted to tell you so that—” She was cut off by Trixie’s lips on her own. Her eyes fluttered and her mind stopped working. She sat there, unmoving, too stunned to do anything else. It ended all too quickly. Trixie smiled and gave Twilight a loving look, responding softly.

“I know Twilight… just… I know.” She kissed Twilight again, and Twilight melted into Trixie, kissing her back. This was bliss.

When the doctor came to check in on Twilight two hours later, he found Twilight and Trixie asleep, arms wrapped around each other lovingly. He smiled knowingly and closed the door quietly.