Fluttershy had had a rough time leaving town, considering it was the middle of the day and ponies were packing the streets of Ponyville. It was terribly odd feeling, being in a sea of ponies, all of whom were chatting animatedly about the weather, the upcoming Running of the Leaves and how the autumn rains were going to affect it, and about Mr. and Mrs. Cake’s newest confectionary inventions. It was ironic, Fluttershy reflected—she’d never participated in any of this small talk while she was still mortal, but now that she couldn’t, she missed it. It made her heart heavy when she thought about it, moreso than she was used to recently.

Curiously (or perhaps not so curiously), none of Fluttershy’s friends were out, but Spike was—in fact, the little dragon was running around town busily, huffing and puffing and stopping to rest when he ran out of breath. It struck Fluttershy as being extremely out of place, and were it not for Blanche’s nagging voice in her head, she might have looked into it further before she headed off for Old Bones’ cottage.

Strangely enough, leaving the house, leaving Ponyville, and getting out onto the open road, with the sky around her and the grass on either side of her, made Fluttershy feel a bit better. She’d been shut away in her house or running around Ponyville for the last few days—it was good to get back outside and reconnect with nature in some way, even if it couldn’t reconnect with her in return.

Old Bones was a pony who’d been one of Canterlot royal advisors for sixty years, or so the file on him claimed. Apparently, he’d been invaluable in solving disputes between rival nations, such as those that belonged to the quarrelsome griffons to the north.

Fluttershy could hardly believe that when she read it—how could one orator calm an entire frothing herd of ponies? She shook her head—somepony must have embellished the record, she thought, or else Old Bones was just that good, and Fluttershy found that hard to believe.

He lived way, way out in the hillsides surrounding Ponyville—an area locals referred to mostly as “The Barrows.” Fluttershy had never heard of anypony living all the way out there, as there weren’t many trees around, least of all fruit-bearing ones—the only things I pony could live on out there were well-water and grass. His file said that, after he retired, he became a hermit, so it seemed to make sense enough. He hadn’t left anypony behind him—no wife, no children. Seemed he hadn’t wanted to be missed.

Beyond that, there wasn’t much information on Old Bones. He’d run a local history hall in his younger days, before becoming advisory to the Princess, and before that he was a student of local history at the College of Canterlot. Seemed he’d always wanted to be a historian, which made it a little odd that he’d become an advisory instead.

“Blanche,” Fluttershy said, her throat tightening as she stepped past the border into The Barrows, “do you know anything about this pony?” She asked, hoping to distract herself from the impending task ahead of her.

“Not really,” he responded, “seems to me he was the kind of pony who didn’t want anypony else knowing about him. He kept mostly to himself except when he needed to orate in the Princess’ place.”

“But why did he need to orate in her place?” Fluttershy asked, trying to steady the beating of her heart, “Shouldn’t the Princess be doing all of that on her own?”

She could almost see Blanche shaking his head. “No,” he said, “the duties of a Princess are many and varied, Fluttershy. Most ponies think that being the Princess means sitting on the throne, giving speeches and granting a pardon or two. In reality, it’s a lot more complex than that.

“When Princess Celestia deals with an insurgency—and believe me, there have been more than a few from the less peace-loving ponies who stubbornly hang around—she has to give orders to her guards, hold personal conferences between herself and the leaders of the insurgency and, of course, she also has to be watching her ranks for spies.” When Fluttershy’s eyes widened in shock, Blanch chuckled. “Equestrian politics are more complex and dangerous than most ponies give them credit for.”

Fluttershy nodded slowly, pulling her cloak more tightly over her head, “But, um…how did he manage to calm that entire rebellion by himself?” she asked, “How could one pony manage all that?”

Blanche sighed. “He didn’t,” he said, “official records say he did, and that’s what our profiles follow, but in reality, he simply distracted the crowd while the Princess cast a “soothe” spell on them to shut them up while she negotiated. Without the roaring crowd backing him up, the insurgency leader pretty much melted and withdrew his terms. His part in it was significant enough, I guess, but royal records embellish it for the sake of making him famous, in a way. He never really did anything special, but he was an invaluable advisor and, as I understand it, Celestia wanted to reward him.”

Fluttershy nodded. “It says here that he retired soon after…was he angry about that?”

“Ask him yourself,” Blanche said, “I don’t know.” And that was the end of that—once again, Fluttershy was left with her own thoughts.

She’d found herself becoming more and more reflective when left alone with herself these days, rather than being self-pitying, as she had when the whole situation had first come to light. She’d thought about the pony she was and, more importantly, the pony she was going to be. There wasn’t likely going to be much social interaction, but there were many moral decisions to make…Fluttershy wondered how she was going to react to all that? Would she even be able to take the life of this “Old Bones” pony? He sounded like he’d led a long, fulfilling life, but didn’t that mean he’d want all the time in the world to look back on it?

Fluttershy bit her lip, looking over the hills of The Barrows—there still wasn’t a house in sight. Heaving a sigh, Fluttershy pressed on—she didn’t like being all alone like this. She’d used to think, each night when she laid down to sleep, that it wouldn’t be so bad, being all alone with oneself. You couldn’t embarrass yourself if you were alone, you couldn’t get made fun of for being a terrible flier by yourself, and you certainly couldn’t make mistakes if you were all alone.

Now, Fluttershy realized as she walked through the hills, the silence around her suffocating, that if there was one mistake you could make, it was being alone in the first place.

The wind rustled Fluttershy’s cloak and she shivered despite herself—it was chilling, hearing only the wind. Fluttershy found it rather ironic—she loved nature, or so was her perception, but nature, the real nature, beyond the flora, fauna and chittering bugs, was so lonely and crushing she could hardly stand it. There wasn’t anything out here except the wind and the grass.

Fluttershy began to think about her friends—how they were doing, what they were doing, who they were talking to and what they were talking about…and most of all, how they were coping. That question had been eating away at Fluttershy for a long time now; were her friends getting on okay without her?

“Hey kid,” came Blanche’s voice once more, “you doing alright? I mean…it’s not really my job to care, but…you look like a sad puppy.”

“I…Blanche,” she said, “how are the rest of my friends? I know you can’t tell me a lot of things, but can you at least tell me that?”

Blanche sighed. “Yeah, I guess I owe you that much,” he said, “considering everything. It’s…not exactly pretty though. I know you’d probably expect nothing less, but it’s a little worse than you think.

“Well…where to start? I guess Twilight’s first on the list. She, well…she wrote to the Princess immediately. Celestia knows about our system of succession, though, and I can’t imagine her response is going to give Twilight any more comfort than yours did. She woke up a few hours ago and sent Spike out to talk to the rest of your friends, then sat down straight away to look for books detailing things like this. As vague as you were, she’s not going to find anything and she knows it, but she’s so desperate for answers she’ll read until, well…”

Fluttershy felt like her heart was in a vice. “And Spike?” she asked, “How’s he?”

“He cried,” Blanche said, “and he was crushed, but whatever he and Twilight are planning must be giving him enough confidence to get out there and get in touch with everypony else.

“Uh…who else…Pinkie is okay, I suppose. She doesn’t show it, but what happened…it’s hurting her inside. Whereas Twilight studies and writes letters until she passes out, Pinkie just… It’s, well…” he cleared his throat, “…it’s nothing, don’t mind it. She’s just upset. But she gets by during the day, even manages to be happy.”

Fluttershy knew he was sparing her—he was doing an awful job of it.

“Rarity and Applejack are managing well enough,” he went on, “Rarity goes away inside and focuses on her work. It hit her hard at first, but somehow she’s managed to pull herself back together and keep going. Applejack is similar, but, I guess…different?” He paused a moment. “Where Rarity just puts herself away and works, she at least takes breaks and tries to think about what happened; Applejack throws every bit of herself into it. Her brother’s tried to stop her before, but she just works and works and refuses to stop. She’s already hurt herself a few times, but she gets up the next morning and does it again.

“Dash is doing about as well as you’d expect her to be doing. It seems like you two were close, Fluttershy, and she’s taking it really hard. She pretends well enough, but it’s eating away at her, and she doesn’t know what to think anymore.”

“I see…” Fluttershy said. She wanted to say so much more than that. She wanted to tell Blanche how he’d been the one who ruined all of their lives, that it was all his fault she was listening to how her friends were in turmoil. “Can you tell what Spike is doing?” she asked.

“Lemme see,” he said, as Fluttershy crested a hill and a house became visible over the horizon, “…oh, well, there’s Old Bones’ house! Love to stay and chat, but I’ve got to be going, you see. Plenty of writing to do! And remember, no matter how scared you are, standing around isn’t going to make it go away.” Fluttershy tried to stop him, but he refused to speak.

Fluttershy looked forward anxiously—the house wasn’t much, more like a shack, really, but it didn’t exactly look inviting, what with its crumbling roof, shattered window, and the yellowed grass around it. Nonetheless, Fluttershy trotted down the hill, heart hammering, and knocked on the door. She still wasn’t sure if she could do this, but, like Blanche had said, standing around wasn’t going to take Old Bones off of her list.

“Hello?” Came a voice, soft and weak, “Hello? Is somepony there? Please do come in. It’s been a while since anypony knocked on my door…” Fluttershy pushed on the door, blinking in surprise when it swung open.

One could certainly say many things about the inside of the shack, but most of them weren’t pleasant. The drapes hanging in front of the windows shot off billows of dust when the slightest breeze rolled by, the holes in them letting in so much light as to reveal that the whole room was coated in dust.

The floors were made mostly of splintery, rough, grey wood—each board creaked under Fluttershy’s hooves as she advanced into the room beneath a weathered and poorly-constructed awning which seemed out of place in such a small house.

The furniture within was spare, to say the least. The only things in the room were a small, steel-shuttered lantern resting on a wobbly end table, made from the same prickly wood as the flooring and the small bed frame in the center of the house, upon which Old Bones lay.

The stallion was in just as poor a shape, if not worse, than his house—his hair had all fallen out save a few pathetic white wisps clinging to his forehead, which sat above a pair of rheumy, unseeing eyes framed by a sagging, grey face. A toothless mouth sucked at the dusty air uselessly, barely able to form words.

“Hello?” he called, “Hello? Is anypony there? I heard my door open…who are you? Why’ve you come to visit me?”

“Um…sir…” Fluttershy started nervously, but Old Bones cut her off.

“What’s that?!” he yelled, “You need to speak up! I can hear well enough, but you’re talking too quietly, missy!”

Fluttershy tried raising her voice. “Sir,” she said, “I’m, er…well…I’m Death, and I’m here to…” She could hardly force it out—the tension in the air was killing her, and the thought of killing this poor old stallion made Fluttershy sick to her stomach.

“Deaf?” Old Bones asked, “Well that’d be a shame if it were true, missy, but you seem to hear well enough to me! Now what was it you were here for again? I didn’t catch that.”

Fluttershy sighed and raised her voice a little more, advancing towards him until she was standing at his bedside. “I’m Death, sir…and I have to-”

“Death?!” Old Bones cried, his voice rising a few octaves. Fluttershy grimaced—she’d hoped this wasn’t going to be hard; nopony wanted to die, and she kicked herself for thinking this was going to be easy.

“I’m sorry,” Fluttershy said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry! I’ll leave right now, and I promise I won’t come back-”

Old Bones’ hoof raised up feebly, touching Fluttershy’s wrist. The old stallion tilted his head up to her, his sightless eyes seeming to stare straight through her. His mouth shifted back and forth for a few moments wordlessly, but finally he said,

“Do you know how long I’ve been waiting? It’s been years and years and years, and my sons stopped coming…did you know that?” He chuckled. “They have lives now, and I don’t begrudge them it or anything, but…I’ve still been kept waiting by you, you lazy, silly mare. Haven’t you ever been told that it’s impolite to keep an elder waiting?”

Fluttershy watched the old man in shock; the things he was saying just weren’t making sense! What pony would ever “wait” for Death? “Sir, um…pardon me for asking, but what do you mean, ‘waiting’?”

Old Bones sighed and looked away, his hoof dropping from Fluttershy’s wrist. “I’ve lived a long time, miss,” he said, “and I’ve done a good many things throughout my long life. But, as happy as I am with the way everything has turned out for me, how successful my sons are—they’re a potter and a royal guard, you know, and such good children—I’ve more than come to terms with the fact that my time has run out. I’ve been waiting on you for three years now, ever since my arthritis crippled me.” He coughed and smiled weakly. “But now you’re here. It’s about time, if you ask me.”

Fluttershy’s throat felt tight—to think that, especially as old as he’d managed to get, Old Bones had been waiting on Death for so long, and Blanche had never reached him…

“Sir,” she said, “…before I do this, is it okay if I ask you a few things about your life? I was reading up on you and, well, there were a few things I was curious about.”

Old Bones’ smile widened. “Of course, little miss, but please, don’t be all day about it.”

Fluttershy pulled out his file, looking for the spots she’d wanted to ask about. “Well, it says here that you were one of the Princess’ advisors, and that you helped defuse a situation between Avania and Equestria. What exactly happened?”

Old Bones shook his head. “Oh, that,” he said, his milky eyes rolling, “that was a foolish dispute, to say the least. Old King Pterya came over to Equestria whining and complaining that Equestrians were beginning to range over the mountains and settle his lands which, he said, was needed to support all of the griffons. The Princess, after days and days of negotiation, was pretty well against the ropes; Pterya refused to back down, and had even started talking about needed Equestrian land grants to support his people, or else he was going to start a war. The Princess wasn’t willing to get so many of our people slaughtered in a war with those stubborn beasts, and she was ready to sign the document.

“I told her to wait, and had it out in the private debate room with Pterya. The story the Princess got from me was that I’d diplomatically presented our terms to him once more and, after some deeper explanation, he’d backed down. The truth of it is that I bluffed him out. I told him that if he invaded, Dragonia to the south would declare for Equestria, and he and all his people would be destroyed. Looking back on what I did, I regret it, and I think some part of me knew it was wrong at the time.”

It had been shrewd, Fluttershy thought, albeit very underhoofed. “What about when you helped the Princess quell the rebellion? It says you retired very soon after; what happened?”

Old Bones’ gaze grew hard. “That…I don’t wish to talk about. The Princess was justified in her choice to give me the credit, but, morally, I don’t agree with what she did, I didn’t back then, and I quit because of it. Let’s leave it at that. Now, are you going to get on with this or not?”

Fluttershy flinched—it seemed Old Bones had run out of patience. “A-alright…I’m sorry,” she said, raising a hoof and trying to remember what Blanche had taught her. Just place your hoof on their chest, and imagine pulling their soul out and sending it to the Ever, he’d told her, nature does the rest.

“Um, sir…” Fluttershy said as she gently touched his withered chest, his grey fur coarse under her hoof, “One last time…are you sure you want me to do this? I know it’s not my place to ask, and I’m sorry, but…are you really sure?”

Old Bones grinned, lifting some of Fluttershy’s nerves, “Does that file say I wanted to be historian?” he asked, and when Fluttershy nodded, he did as well. “I’ve read many things, and I think I know just what to say. It’s something a very famous pony wrote in older times.” He cleared his throat and said,

“In the sleep of death, dreams may come, when we have shuffled off this mortal coil, must give us pause, and there’s the respect, for one who bore the whips and scorns of time.” He laughed. “I was never completely sure what that meant, but it seemed appropriate—I think it went something like that. In any case, yes, I’m ready.”

Fluttershy’s eyes stung, and she could hardly see through the tears welling up in them, but she sucked in a breath and tried pulling. Her breath grew hot in her chest, choking her as Old Bones’ soul slid out of his body painfully slowly, the image thereof of a much younger pony, extremely handsome, with a chiseled, grinning face and a book beneath his arm.

The glowing apparition looked down at Fluttershy, and its smile grew even wider as it did—Fluttershy began to sob as a portal opened in the ceiling. Old Bones’ ghost reached down to wipe the tears from her cheek, but his hoof passed through uselessly.

“Whoops,” he said, chuckling, “Guess I can’t do that like I used to. Relax, little miss…if it’s any consolation, you’ve made me happier than I’ve been in years.” He looked down at himself as he began to float up, whistling. “I used to look his good? Heh, it’s a shame I got old…g’bye now, miss. You take care. And tell my sons, if you can, that I was happy at the end. I’m sure they’re gonna be broken up about this—they always were a little soft.” He winked at her, and then he was gone.

Fluttershy’s knees gave out under her, the fading light of the sun bathing her through the holes in the curtains as she collapsed onto the floor.

When she woke some time later, Blanche was standing over her, wearing an amused smile.

“Can’t say I expected you to have the same reaction I did my first time,” he said, floating down to the floor, “Guess we’re more alike than I figured. I’d offer my hoof, but that’d probably just make you faceplant.”

Fluttershy, still feeling weak, forced herself up in the darkness. “What…what time is it?” she asked wearily, painfully conscious of Old Bones’ body behind her.

“Not too late,” Blanche responded, “still about two hours until bedtime. Are you okay?”

Fluttershy nodded—whether she was just getting a second wind or death’s stamina was taking over, she was beginning to feel better swiftly. “I’m okay, I suppose, but…I killed him, Blanche…he’s dead.”

Blanche nodded. “That’s usually what happens when you get done,” he said, smiling, “it’s sorta in the job description. Did you not catch that?” When Fluttershy looked over at him, practically biting a hole through her lip, Blanche’s smile softened. “Hey,” he said, holding a hoof to her shoulder in a comforting gesture, “You did what needed to be done. You heard him—he was waiting for you.” Fluttershy nodded sullenly, but didn’t seem comforted.

“Hey,” Blanche said, “cheer up. You gave him peace, alright? I don’t know what else to say, beyond that, but trust me, you made him happy. Okay?”

Fluttershy breathed in deeply and exhaled, finally smiling weakly. “I…did, didn’t I?” She swallowed, “I guess…I never thought I’d help anyone by doing this…”

Blanche nodded. “You do. More than you figure. Now then, I think your friends are all meeting up at the library in Ponyville—you’d better hightail it over there if you expect to make in time to satisfy your curiosity. I gotta get going, myself.” He began to float up towards the ceiling, but stopped a moment, turning back around. “And Fluttershy? Don’t…don’t beat yourself up, alright? Just take care of yourself. And try to keep that smile. Looks better than a frown.”

Fluttershy nodded silently, and then Blanche, too, was gone. The yellow mare looked toward Old Bones’ body for a moment, saw the smile frozen on his face, and took a deep breath, starting out the door. Hopefully she’d make it in time…