Time had been passing much too quickly for Fluttershy. It only seemed like yesterday she’d made the long walk out to the Barrows and talked to Old Bones, and made her first kill… In only three weeks, she’d taken at least twenty just like him—old, exhausted, and terribly tired of everything. In fact, older ponies had been the only ones she’d been asked to kill so far.

It was like Blanche said: after some time, you start getting used to the jobs you’re given. Even so, she hadn’t totally adjusted—walking through the town square and watching ponies pull their scarves tighter around their necks when she moved past always made her uncomfortable.

Fluttershy’s list never ran out of victims, either. Every time she brought a pony into the Ever, another name would pop up on the bottom of her list. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Fluttershy had desperately hoped that she’d run out of victims, and that maybe the Ever would let her stop being Death—it was abundantly clear now that wasn’t the case.

And all the while, Twilight and the rest of the Elements had been hard at work—Twilight’s letter had been emphatic, and thankfully, Celestia hadn’t shot her down like last time.

Even so, Celestia had ‘regretfully’ informed Twilight that she wouldn’t be able to see her for another month, and that’d been two-and-a-half weeks ago. Fluttershy couldn’t take the anticipation—even when she was on assignments, it was all she could think about. Twilight had written and rewritten her presentation to the Princess time and again, and it never seemed good enough for her. Spike was always running around as well, getting more papers, quills and things. Whatever she came up with, Fluttershy knew it would be perfect.

Pinkie had decided to make a celebration cake way, way in advance, and had been getting a recipe put together—by the looks of it, it was going to be huge, hilariously so.

Dash had taken a lot of convincing once she’d found out what the topic of discussion was, but they’d helped her come around—she was going to give Fluttershy heck when she made it back, but at least she was on board, though she hadn’t been doing much to help. She’d mostly been managing the weather, lazing around on clouds, and making idle conversation in the square—she was probably still trying to forget about everything.

Applejack hadn’t been doing much besides working—the farm needed tending to, even as the days passed and the Elements got ever-closer to their appointment with the Princess.

Rarity made regular appointments with Twilight, always heading over to the library when she had a minute to help Twilight with her presentation, and lifting Spike’s spirits when he was getting down.

And Fluttershy continued on with her assignments, the same as ever. Things remained relatively mundane—Blanche visited every now and again, in the ‘flesh’, but mostly Fluttershy was left on her own, adding to the painful anticipation.

Whenever Twilight and the rest of the Elements got together for a meeting, it was seldom very coherent. Dash and Applejack would shout over Pinkie, who was passing pencils down to Rarity, who would mark down a few ideas on a sheet of paper, then pass it to Twilight, who would mark what she liked. The presentation for the Princess had gone through several versions as it was, and it didn’t look like it was going to stop changing any time soon.

Despite how little they seemed to get done, the meetings were always a focal point for morale—when they were alone, each of the Elements were like stained glass; pretty to look at, and strong-looking on the outside, but all-too-easy to shatter. Getting together, getting loud and reassuring each other helped them keep going. Fluttershy even got into it, even though none of them could hear her. It helped her remember that, despite her fate, she could still enjoy the little things.

When Fluttershy awoke from her slumber, she gave a powerful yawn and stretched deeply, looking out the window of her house—the sky was steely grey and looked fragile, with puffs of snow floating down. The ground was covered in the white stuff, and the market was just beginning to wake up—ponies were putting out their fruit stands and pie carts, the shutters of Sugarcube Corner were opening up, and Carousel Boutique’s windows swung outwards to greet the morning.

The air was crisp and cold, and smelled like a sheet of ice had been placed over the entire world. Fluttershy could see ponies bundled up tightly, with hats pulled down tightly over their heads and wooly vests on their chests. They made small talk with one another as they passed by, breath seeping from their lips in a frosty mist. For the moment, everything was at peace.

It didn’t take long, however, for the peace to be broken by fillies and colts running out of their houses to roll around in the fresh snow, screaming in high-pitched voices and throwing snowballs at each other, which exploded on the buildings behind them, the snow settling back onto the ground afterwards.

Fluttershy couldn’t help but smile—the market looked so full of life… She wished, as she had every day for the last three weeks, that she could’ve been a part of it while she was still alive.

“Fluttershy,” came a familiar voice, “good to see you’re doing alright.” Blanche smirked at her as she turned away from the window.

“Um, yes, well…” Fluttershy moved a lock of her hair out of her eyes distractedly, “I guess so…as much as I can be, in any case. You know, being Death and all…” She tried to force a smile, something she often did when things around her were depressing—she’d learned that there was no sense in being sad all the time, so she’d tried to use Pinkie’s approach—smiling the problems away.

Blanche chuckled. “Are you finally developing a sense of humor?” he asked. “Now there’s something I thought I’d never see.” Blanche looked out the window. “Pretty gloomy day, huh? You’d think Dash would be trying to make the weather all happy and stuff…” The stallion sighed. “Your weather team is beginning to make me wonder whether they’ll ever wrap up winter.”

Fluttershy joined Blanche. “I know Rainbow Dash hasn’t been doing so great…” she said. “Maybe the weather is just her way of expressing her feelings. She is the captain of the weather team, after all.”

Blanche smirked. “I don’t think that’s how it works,” he said, pushing his hair behind an ear. “But in any case, I hope it’s not making it too hard for you to get around. Your intake of souls has been steady, but not terrific.”

Fluttershy bit her lip and pulled out her list. “I’m sorry…” she said. “It’s just that, well…it can be hard to get around. Some of these ponies were in faraway towns, and it took me several days to get there… Isn’t there any way I can travel faster, Blanche?”

Blanche nodded. “Yes…the pony given the powers of death can teleport—I think I remember you asking me about that earlier—but as I told you, that’s reserved until after you’ve made your first few kills.” He smiled. “I believe you’ve more than qualified for that.” Blanche cocked his head in Fluttershy’s direction, and a small flash flitted from his horn. “There you go!” he said. “Teleportation.”

Fluttershy blinked. “…Er…are you sure?” The mare looked herself over. “I, um…I don’t feel much different.”

Blanche shook his head. “What, you expect every little thing I give you to be some huge, dramatic ceremony?” He laughed. “I guess it’s a reasonable thing to expect; after all, things have been rather dramatic for you these last few weeks, eh?” The stallion turned. “Just focus on where you want to go, and imagine yourself there. Simple.”

Fluttershy closed her eyes. When she opened them, there she was. The mare looked around, mouth agape. “Um…oh my…”

Blanche chuckled. “Well, you’re certainly less excited than I was,” he said, “I believe the first words out of my mouth were much fouler and less coherent.”

Fluttershy blinked. “Um…does this mean I can teleport to the places on my list now…?” She pulled out the scroll of paper, looking it over.

Blanche nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “Since you already get an image of the place in your head when you touch the name on the list, all you’ve gotta do now is close your eyes and envision it, and poof! You’re there.” Blanche tapped Fluttershy’s list with a meaningful look. “But it also means that you’re going to be expected to get more done each day. The Ever understands that every now and again, you need to use time for yourself, and as Death, your schedule is under your own jurisdiction, but do keep in mind that you can’t slack off just because you can teleport. Understand?”

Fluttershy nodded. “I know that,” she said, “it’s just, um…when my friends go to visit the Princess, I probably won’t—”

Blanche held up a hoof. “I understand,” he said, “you need to be there anyway—I don’t mean to put a damper on things, you know, but I’m not sure your friends are going to find out anything new; the Princess knows not to be forthcoming with information about The Ever and such, and she’ll tell Twilight the truth about her political relations—namely, that there’s nothing going on.” He smirked. “By the way, I’ve always known about your friends’ plan, even though you tried to hide it from me. I don’t think it will work.”

Fluttershy sighed. “I know…” she said. “I…knew that as soon as Twilight came up with her plan. But I’m hoping it’ll put them on the right track. Hopefully, when Princess Celestia can’t help them, Twilight will start to think more about The Ever…if I know as well as I think I do, I know she will.”

Blanche’s smirk faded slowly, and his eyes grew hard. “I don’t think you realize, Fluttershy…” He swept a hoof towards the ceiling. “I’ve told you before that The Ever is a power that even I don’t understand, still, and I’m a part of it. You need to focus on your job, not these hopes that your friends are going to get it together, defeat the Ever—and myself, I’d assume you’re hoping—and make everything better. It’s not going to happen.”

Fluttershy didn’t respond, and Blanche flew back up into the Ever, one last thing echoing in the room.

“Ponies have tried before, you know.” And then he was gone.

Fluttershy looked out the window at the grey sky, the angry, fragile clouds scudding along the sky slowly, puffs of snow floating down from them. She could almost see Twilight and Spike bustling around the square, Rarity designing outfits fit for them to address the Princess, Pinkie baking that celebration cake…

Blanche was wrong. Fluttershy knew it; he had to be wrong.

The mare produced her list from her long hair with a frown, looking over it. She hadn’t actually made a kill in the last few days—her friends’ preparations had been so heated in that space of time that she hadn’t wanted to miss any of it. But with things on the backburner for the Elements as of late, Fluttershy knew it was time to get back to work.

Looking over her list, Fluttershy noticed one odd name at the top of her list. The rest of the names were generically old—Rusty Hooves, Blind Eye, etc. But there was one, the next pony on her list, that seemed not to fit in with the others…Little Mint. Fluttershy bit her lip, looking around the room as if she expected to see Blanche standing there.

Little Mint…Little Mint…Fluttershy tried to think; had she heard of a pony with that name before? Fluttershy decided that no, she hadn’t. It certainly didn’t sound like an older pony…but Fluttershy tried to remain hopeful. She’d met an old mare named Jellybean some weeks ago, so maybe it was just an odd name that’d carried into older age.

Fluttershy placed a hoof on the scroll and closed her eyes, biting her lip as her mind was carried away to the pony’s location. It looked like a small house, off in the direction of Hoofington, but not quite inside the city…Fluttershy couldn’t blame them—Hoofington was less-than-ideal, to say the least.

The mare tucked the scroll back into her hair with a worried look—whoever this mare was, she’d come under unfortunate circumstances—rolled by a hay cart on the main strip. Apparently, it had broken several of her ribs and punctured a lung, the other lung barely hanging on. Poor thing…Fluttershy knew she would be happy to see her, tragic as the circumstances were. Closing her bedroom door behind her, Fluttershy thought about what the mare would say to her—the last one was pleasant enough. “Dearie,” she’d said, “I don’t mean to be rude…but please, I’m ready to go.” And she went with no trouble.

Thankfully, Fluttershy didn’t have to go into Hoofington proper. The amount of scum and villainy in that city made her cringe the last time she’d had to. Coming upon the huge house in which her victim was resting, Fluttershy felt a shiver run down her spine. Something didn’t seem right about all this…maybe it was the rain pouring down around her, edges of the sun shining around the light-grey clouds, making everything seem so gloomy.

The inside of the house was immaculate, well-decorated, and generally looked like a pleasant place to stay. A mare and stallion were both downstairs, their faces wreathed in fragile smiles, their hooves wrapped around each other. The mare’s hair fell around her face in a sickly green tangle, and the stallion’s jaw was covered in coarse yellow hair, his blue eyes flinty despite his expression.

Fluttershy stopped a moment. Who were they? Caretakers? A thought, one that had been gnawing at the back of her mind, started to push itself to the fore: what if they were Little Mint’s parents? Fluttershy swallowed. No, that was impossible—foals, fillies, colts…they were the precious little ones…they couldn’t possibly…

Fluttershy put the thought out of her mind. It couldn’t be true.

The stairs seemed to take forever with the horrible reality Fluttershy refused to face growing closer and closer. Downstairs, she heard the mare complain about a chill in the air, a thump as the stallion closed the window for her. Fluttershy didn’t want to cause any stir, and zapped herself through the doorway which she knew led into the victim’s room.

It was a nice enough room—floral wallpaper, one window across from the door which looked out over a garden, a small end table next to a four-poster bed.

The covers of the bed, spotted with flowers, were pulled up over a form, the nose of which tented the fabric. Fluttershy’s stomach tied itself in an icy knot—it looked so brittle…

No, she thought, no…I’m going to pull back those covers and it’s going to be a lovely old mare smiling up at me, thanking me for coming. The mare walked across the room, her breath growing shorter with every step, and placed a hoof on those covers, pulling them back gently.

A pair of watery green eyes stared up at her, tiny and innocent. “You’re not my mom.”

Fluttershy felt the earth shake underneath her. It was a filly, just a few years older than the Cutie Mark Crusaders. She tried to speak, but her throat was going dry.

“No…no…” she stammered, “I…no…I-I’m not…”

The filly coughed, squeaking with pain. “Then…who are you?” she asked, “Why’re you in my house…? I’m tired…I told Mom and Dad that I wanted to sleep…”

Fluttershy blinked, trying to shake an encroaching darkness from her mind which threatened to knock her out, like Old Bones’ death had. “I…I…” She swallowed and licked her lips. “I’m Death…Little Mint, and I’m here to take you to The Ever.”

As he filly’s mouth dropped, her hair, the same sickly shade as her mother’s, fell over one of her eyes. “But…but Mom and Dad said I was getting better. Whoever you are, really, just leave me alone.” She coughed and pointed to the door with a hoof. “Now.”

Fluttershy didn’t know what to do; she couldn’t kill a filly…could she? It didn’t make any sense…she was just getting started on her life! There was too much of it left to live to take her now. “I…” Fluttershy felt weak, like she was going to fall and shatter into a million pieces.

“Don’t leave.” Blanche revealed himself, standing behind Fluttershy. “Fluttershy…she has to go. Take her.”

“But…” Fluttershy stammered, looking into the stallion’s unforgiving eyes, “But she’s just a filly! How can I do that to her?”

“Who’re you talking to…?” Mint asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You can, and you will, because you’re Death,” Blanche retorted. “It’s your job to do the will of The Ever, not to question it.”

Fluttershy’s mouth moved a few times, but no words came. She turned back to Mint—those watery eyes of hers still had so much to see…she probably hadn’t even been in love…

“Are you going to leave, Miss?” Mint asked again. “I don’t mean to be rude, but my Mom and Dad said I wasn’t supposed to get visitors until I was all better.”

“Don’t,” Blanche repeated. “You’re not leaving until you take her. She has to go; there aren’t any exceptions.” The stallion narrowed his eyes. “It’s terrible, it’s wrong, and there’s nothing good about it, I know, but that doesn’t change the way things have to be. Sometimes things like this happen, Fluttershy; it’s not our job to understand it.”

Fluttershy felt trapped. “Blanche,” she said softly. “Just…go, please. I need to do this on my own.” She barely knew what she was even saying—all she knew was that she didn’t need both of them telling her what do to.

“Very well,” Blanche said, rising up to the ceiling. “But remember…you can’t leave without sending her soul to The Ever.”

Fluttershy turned back to Mint. “I’m sorry…” Her voice was hardly a whisper. “I know your mother and father tried very hard to make things better for you, but…you have to go.” Fluttershy tried to bite back the tears welling up in her eyes. “You have to go…there’s nothing anypony can do.”

Mint stared at Fluttershy a few moments. “…You’re serious, aren’t you?” she said, sitting up with a pained groan. “I…” She looked down and away. “I hoped you were just some pony playing a really mean trick on me…my parents said they were going to the store…I thought you’d snuck in. They told me they were going to buy something that would make me stop hurting all the time. I’m just kinda tired of all the hurting…”

Fluttershy swallowed hard. “Your parents are downstairs, Mint,” she said. “They both look very worried.”

“I know they are,” the filly responded. “They have been for a long time now… I got hit by that hay cart a month ago.” She looked out the window. “The stallions pulling it were going too fast…it’s their fault I’m like this, y’know. My parents just wanted to take me into town to get some food and stuff, and then…this happened.” She sighed. “I don’t remember much after that, until I woke up.”

Fluttershy pulled her cloak up over her head, trying to shield the filly from the hurt in her face. “…I understand,” she said. “I…I’m sorry it happened to you. I know you don’t want to go…”

Mint shook her head, taking a deep breath to steady her voice. “No,” she said, “I mean…my parents told me all about death after our cat died, but…they told me that, for a little filly like me, it was really far-off. I didn’t think…something like this was going to happen, especially not to me.” She laughed—the sound was terribly forced. “They were always telling me ‘Mint, you’re too smart for your own good.’ I guess they were right—a day or two after I woke up, something kept telling me I was going to see you sooner or later, even when they kept saying ‘Don’t worry, don’t worry, we promise you’re going to get better.’

“But I’m not.” Mint pulled the covers up against her chin. “And I guess, well…I knew that. I’m almost done being a filly, y’know. Or, I guess I was. Just two more years, I think. Doesn’t really matter now, I guess.” Mint turned back from the window. “So you’re sending me to The Ever, right? My parents told me about that place, but they always said it didn’t really exist, that it was just a story old ponies passed around.” The filly licked her lips nervously. “…Is it nice? Do I get to say goodbye to my parents? Is the Ever…pretty?”

Fluttershy yanked the hood down as far as she could get it. “Y-yes…” she murmured, her voice breaking, “I’m told it’s a wonderful place, and that ponies who go there get anything they want. And…your parents…” They wouldn’t be able to see Mint’s soul exiting her body, nor would they see Fluttershy taking it. “You can say goodbye, but…don’t mention me.”

Mint nodded. “It’s kinda funny—I never expected to see Death…and I never thought she’d be so nice-looking.”

“Thank you…” Fluttershy squeaked.

Mint leaned down from her bed and tapped the floor. “They’ll be up in a sec. Um…does it hurt?”

Fluttershy only shook her head.

“Mint, dear?” came the mare’s voice as the door swung open and the parents entered, “Mint, is everything alright?” They knelt down by her bedside.

“Is there anything we can get you, hon? We just got back from the store.” Her father said, taking one of her hooves.

“No Mom…no Dad…” Mint smiled at them. “It’s just…I don’t think I can do this anymore…I wanted to say goodbye.”

Her mother’s eyes went wide. “No, Mint, no! Please, don’t say things like that! That’s…it’s not true. Please, don’t scare your dear old parents like that. Our hearts are weak enough as it is.” She forced a laugh.

“Mint, hon…’ her father said, “What…why would you say something like that?”

Mint nodded in Fluttershy’s direction, cueing her. “Dad…nngh…” She groaned as Fluttershy placed her hooves on her chest, beginning to draw out her spirit, “I can feel myself going, Dad…And Mom…I’m not trying to be scary.” Tears started to flow from all three ponies’ eyes, and Fluttershy’s cheeks were getting wetter by the moment, her eyes obscured by her hood.

“I just wanted to tell you both…since I—ahhhn—can’t go on much longer…that I’m sorry.”

Her mother had her eyes covered with an arm, sobbing uncontrollably, so her father asked, “For what, Mint…? There’s nothing for you to be sorry about; you’re the perfect daughter.”

Mint shook her head. “No…I’m not. Remember when the carpet got burned up, the one we got from Grandma…? That wasn’t the cat. It was me. I’m…sorry.” She pitched up against Fluttershy’s hooves.

Her mother collapsed onto the bed. “It’s…” her father stammered, gripping her hoof more tightly, “It’s okay, honey. You were just a little foal. I understand. We…” He sniffed, kissing her on the cheek. “We forgive you.”

Mint smiled as Fluttershy finished, the back legs of her spirit leaving her. “Thank you…I love you guys…” Her head tilted to one side, resting softly against the pillow. Her father’s grip on her hoof grew tighter as he looked down at the floor, entire body heaving.

“Well…I guess we go now, huh? Unless there was anything else? I’m sorry that I kinda made a scene…”

Fluttershy shook her head and pointed up at the ceiling—bright rays of light shot from it.

Mint looked up at it and smiled. “Oh, alright…see you later, Miss.” She floated up towards it, her body still warm on the bed and her parents in ruins. As her head entered The Ever, she gasped. “It is pretty…”

And then she was gone.

Fluttershy had no idea how she made it back to her house, but she fell onto her bed, eyes glazed over. Her hood slipped back over her ears, pink hair lying around her in a disheveled wave. She couldn’t believe what she’d just done.

“That was kinda rough, eh kid?” came Blanche’s voice. “I know the feeling. My first time doing something like that was pretty rough too.”

Fluttershy said nothing.

“C’mon, kid…you can’t let this kill you. It’s going to happen more than once while you’re Death.”

Fluttershy said nothing.

“…Fine, whatever, I tried.” Blanche shook his head. “Be that way. I’m tired of seeing you mope around all the time, but if you’re not even gonna try to be happy, then I’m not gonna try to help you be happy. So whatever.” He poofed away, leaving Fluttershy alone.

Fluttershy said nothing.