As much as Twilight wanted to deny it, she was dead. Trampled under the paw of an Ursa Major. It sounded much more heroic than it actually was.
Instead, it was agonizing. Yet surprisingly quick. It was almost reminiscent of a berry popping. Twilight scrunched her muzzle, mentally scolding herself for thinking of such a vile comparison. This was her friend, not some poorly constructed metaphor!
Twilight attempted to slow her rapid breathing, wiping the continuous dripping rain from her cheeks. She brought her hoof to her chest, finally letting out a semi-clear breath.
“This is fine!” Twilight tittered. Fluttershy wasn’t really dead. She was just broken! And Twilight could fix her. It was like a puzzle. Puzzles can fall and break, but you can always put them back together.
Twilight stared at Fluttershy’s body. Her limbs were contorted into a hideous shape, almost flattened. Twilight retched, levitating the corpse above her head.
She needed to think. Fluttershy was alive; she needed to be alive. Twilight wracked her brain, squeezing her eyes shut.
A fizzle of an idea began to form. Soon, the fizzle turned into a flame. Twilight inhaled deeply, forcing a smile onto her face.
“This is a-okay,” She reassured no one in particular. She began her trek through the castle, her trot fast and uncoordinated. Her wet hooves occasionally slipped across the crystal floor.
Twilight knew resurrection spells, but they would be useless here. Any life she would live in this body would surely be in agony. Twilight doubted Fluttershy could last another hour if the shock didn’t get to her first. Instead, she would do the reasonable thing. Recreate her form into something greater.
Well, nothing could replace the real Fluttershy, but this was the next best thing. It wouldn’t even be a real replacement if she was exactly like Fluttershy. It was more like a clone. And if anything, she’d be better! Stronger and faster, just what Fluttershy needed. Twilight didn’t want to admit it, but Fluttershy could use the strength.
Twilight's trot slowed to a halt as she reached a dead end. She pressed her hoof against the wall, pushing it open. Behind the door laid a staircase, seemingly leading into a dark abyss. One of the many hidden rooms this castle had.
She began her descent down the crystal staircase, entering the darkness. The deeper she got, the more distant the pounding rain became. Twilight sighed a breath of relief. Finally, no more overbearing noise.
Soon enough, Twilight made it to the bottom. She reached overhead, clicking on the light. Heavy machinery towered over her. While the sheer size would frighten an unknowing pony, Twilight knew this was vital for her project.
On the table in the middle of the room lay Twilight's creation. A sleek, silver, near-completed robot. It was pristine, looking as if it had never been touched. She was saving this for a rainy day, but this was much more important.
Twilight gently placed the corpse onto the floor. One bad bump and what Twilight needed would be gone. The alicorn crouched to the corpse, pressing her horn against the chest. With a quick glow of the horn and a twitch, a ball of light popped from her innards.
Fluttershy’s magic. A crucial part of her being. It wasn’t everything about her, but it was a start. It hummed beautifully, glowing a gorgeous yellow. Twilight nudged the corpse, having no more use for it. She had everything she needed in the palm of her hooves.
Twilight approached the robot, gazing into its hollow chest. It wasn’t big, only a few inches deep, acting as a storage compartment.
She lowered the magic into the robot's chest before quickly closing it. The gorgeous hum was hushed by the metal. Twilight hurriedly screwed the chest, preserving the fragile essence. The robot gained a dull yellow glow.
A magical being living in machinery wasn’t ideal, but it was doable. With routine checkups, Fluttershy should be able to live a long, normal life.
Fluttershy could never know about this; Twilight had already made her mind up about that. She was sensitive. Who knows how Fluttershy would react to this!? This could send her into a lifelong crisis. It was best to keep it under wraps until Twilight knew she was ready.
Twilight flipped the robot to its back, gazing at its bare back. She turned on the heels of her hooves, bringing her attention to two metallic items: a horn and a pair of wings.
She picked up the wings, weighing them in her hooves. The wings were lightweight, perfect for short-period flights. In fact, it might make Fluttershy a stronger flier. If anything, she was doing Fluttershy a favor; this was an upgrade!
Twilight levitated a drill, bolting the wings onto the bot. The wings were now one with the machine, almost looking like a real pony. Almost.
Twilight pulled unfurled the wings, admiring the size. The tips of the wings were sharp enough to cut. With the proper casing, the sharp ends would barely be noticeable.
Now, for the physical aspects of the robot. Twilight turned around, looking at her other materials. On a table lay a pane of silicone and a sheet of faux fur. They didn’t seem like much on their own, but together, they could act as a layer of muscles and flesh. They would hide the harsh texture of metal.
Twilight hummed, rubbing her hoof across her chin. The fur was a starch white, nowhere near being the butter-yellow of Fluttershy’s coat. It was also far too shaggy. Twilight had to run out for some dye in the morning. As for the mane, she would have to pull some strings for a high-quality wig. But being a princess, she could make it work.
While Twilight would love advice from a certain fashionista, she had to keep this under wraps. Including her friends could make this worse.
If she did this right, she could get Fluttershy up and running by the next afternoon. None would be the wiser. Fluttershy could go back to her carefree, animal-loving life.
“Twilight?” A whisper came from behind. Twilight froze, her blood running cold.
Fluttershy was awake. Why was she awake? Twilight should have more time. She had planned everything out perfectly, hadn’t she?
It took everything in Twilight not to panic. She tensed her muscles, trying her hardest not to pace.
All she had to do was shut Fluttershy off and continue her work. But Fluttershy was here, and she was alive. Twilight couldn’t just ignore her. She had to see if she was okay. One little peek wouldn’t hurt. Twilight steeled her nerves, craning her neck back. Her heart nearly stopped in her chest.
That thing didn’t look anything like Fluttershy.
Its eyes were dead and unblinking. Its head swiveled, eyeing Twilight curiously. Twilight wanted to look away; she really did, but she couldn’t bring herself to. It didn’t look right. Had she messed up? Why did she look like that? Twilight was aware that it was a robot, but it looked so…lifeless.
It stared into the depths of Twilight's soul with cold, grey eyes. Its head was tilted as if its neck were too heavy to support its body. “Are you okay?” The robot asked, its voice whirring. It didn’t sound like Fluttershy, either.
Despite the fear, the tone was familiar. Twilight let in a gulp of relief. The robot showed compassion. In other words, kindness. Deep down, that was still Fluttershy. Twilight didn’t need to worry; just as she wanted, Fluttershy was here.
“Are…you okay?” Twilight redirected. The robot…Fluttershy brought her hoof to her face, wearily rubbing her eyes.
“I feel…weird.”
Twilight let out a breath of relief. It didn’t look much like Fluttershy, but it was her. Twilight let out an empty laugh. She couldn’t tell if it was genuine or from the ridiculousness of this situation.
Fluttershy tried to stand up, only to nearly collapse under her weight. Twilight quickly caught her, shuddering at the cold metal on her skin.
“Careful!” She warned a little too loudly. “Y-you had a heat stroke.” Twilight lied through her teeth. Fluttershy blinked, rubbing over her eyes. She didn’t remember it being hot earlier. In fact, it seemed a bit cloudy.
“Where are we?” She questioned, peeking over the alicorn's shoulder. Twilight smothered a gasp, glancing back at the corpse. “Don’t worry about it!”
In one quick motion, the pair were teleported out of the room. Usually, sudden teleportation would make Fluttershy queasy, but this time, she felt fine.
The pair now resided in one of the many hallways of the castle. Twilight gazed down at Fluttershy, who still lay between her forearms.
“Sorry, sorry!” She quickly apologized, bringing Fluttershy to her hooves. Fluttershy wobbled, trying to stand straight under her newfound weight. Soon enough, Fluttershy found her footing.
Fluttershy felt…off. She didn’t know why, but she felt weird. New, maybe. Fluttershy looked over to Twilight. She trembled where she stood, her eyes looking crazed.
“Oh dear, you don’t look so well,” Fluttershy commented, bringing her hoof to Twilight’s forehead. She jerked back, dodging Fluttershy’s touch.
“Oh, I’m fine. Never better!” Twilight’s voice wavered. Fluttershy frowned.
“Are you sure? You look like you’re catching a cold.” Fluttershy pointed out. Twilight waved her hoof through the air, blowing a raspberry.
“Mhm! I’m feeling perfectly fine!” Twilight hummed, her gaze wandering around the castle.
Their conversation quickly fizzled out. The only thing to be heard was the pounding rain slowly turning into a drizzle.
What time was it? How long had Fluttershy been here? As much as Fluttershy wanted to be here for Twilight, she had animals to look after.
“I should get going.” Fluttershy broke the silence. Twilight whipped around, her eyes wide with terror.
“No!”She shrieked, nearly scaring Fluttershy out of her nonexistent skin. She quickly cleared her throat, wiping her hoof across her sweaty brow. “You shouldn’t travel after such an extreme heat stroke.”
Twilight tapped her chin, trying to think of a quick solution. “I have an idea! How about we have a slumber party!” Twilight offered overenthusiastically.
“I would love too, but my animals are waiting,” Fluttershy explained. Twilight laughed, throwing her head back.
“Oh, don’t worry about that. I’ll send Spike to take care of them.” Twilight turned around, inhaling deeply. “SPIKE!” She bellowed, her voice echoing down the halls.
Fluttershy eyed Twilight curiously. She was acting…off. And this wasn’t ‘normal Twilighting out’ stress; this was something completely different.
While the pair waited, Fluttershy scanned the hallway. Her ears twitched with every raindrop that fell. Was her hearing better? It felt like it was.
Sooner than later, Spike entered the hallway, claws clacking across the crystal floor.
“What is it, Twili…” Spike trailed off. He stared at Fluttershy, his mouth agape. A soft whine came from his throat as if he was trying to form a sentence.
Fluttershy opened her mouth to greet the dragon, but Twilight quickly stepped in. Twilight unfurled her wing, covering Spike’s face.
“Don’t worry about him; he’s just a little tired,” Twilight reassured. She quickly ducked behind her wing, letting out hushed whispers.
Fluttershy tried not to eavesdrop; she really did, but she couldn’t help it. She quickly looked away, not wanting to intrude on such a private conversation. Despite this, she could pick up a few words such as ‘Fluttershy’ and ‘It’ll be okay.’
Spike peeked through Twilight’s feathers, giving Fluttershy one last horrified stare. And with that, he disappeared with a purple flash. Twilight gave a sheepish smile.
“Teleporting him was faster.” Twilight hastily explained. “Now, what do you feel like doing?” She asked, almost sounding like she was talking to a filly.
Fluttershy hummed, rubbing her stomach. If her animals were eating now, she supposed she should too. It was always good to stick to her routine.
“I would like to have dinner if it’s not too much trouble.” Fluttershy bashfully admitted. Twilight scrunched her muzzle, tilting her head.
“Dinner?” Twilight asked in disbelief. “You feel…hungry?”
Fluttershy frowned, lowering her head.
“I think so. I’m sorry. Is that a problem?” She asked. Twilight quickly shook her head.
“No, no! It’s no problem!” Twilight quickly backtracked. “I’ll give you anything you want.”
Fluttershy sat at the dining room table, clacking her hooves against the flat surface. Twilight clamored around the kitchen much too loudly for Fluttershy’s liking.
“Are you sure you don’t need help?” Fluttershy offered, peaking over the counter.
“Nope! Don’t move a single muscle. I don’t want you to break.” Twilight responded too happily. Fluttershy scrunched her snout. What did Twilight mean about not wanting her to break?
Fluttershy huffed, leaning into her hooves. She let her eyes shut. Today felt weird. Well, not today, more like right now. It felt like something was buzzing in her chest. Whatever the buzzing was almost pushing, trying to crawl out.
It was powerful, almost unbearable. Fluttershy was tempted to follow the odd feeling. She was quickly snapped from her thoughts, hearing a clang. She opened her eyes, noticing a plate of…something.
“Eat up!” Twilight exclaimed, nudging the plate closer to Fluttershy. Fluttershy leaned in, eyeing the contents curiously.
It was a pile of unidentifiable gunk. Fluttershy wanted to say it didn’t look appetizing, but she didn’t feel disgusted. She didn’t feel much about it. Fluttershy reached for her fork, shakily balancing it on her hoof.
The fork slipped from Fluttershy’s hooves, clattering against the table. She smiled sheepishly, attempting to pick it up. Unfortunately, the fork continued to slip under her hoof. It felt like she had lost all grip in her hooves.
Fluttershy looked up, hoping Twilight didn’t notice her fumble. Twilight, in fact, did notice it. She ogled attentively. If Twilight moved any further, she was sure to fall out of her seat.
“Aren’t you going to eat?” Fluttershy inquired.
“Nope, not hungry!”
Fluttershy hummed, ignoring her friend's piercing stare. She prodded a forkful of food, shoving it into her maw. It didn’t taste much like anything. Fluttershy attempted to swallow, but the food unceremoniously tumbled from her mouth. Her hoof flew to her mouth, letting out a gasp.
“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry!” Fluttershy apologized. How could she have done such a thing? Twilight whisked the plate and fallen food away.
“Don’t worry about it; you must not have been hungry.” Twilight quickly reassured. She trotted to the sink, shoving the food-filled plate into soapy water.
“Heat stroke can take away your appetite. It’ll be best if you rest.” Twilight continued to ramble nonsensically, scrubbing the singular dish. Fluttershy began to tune her friend out, the tugging at her chest returning. It was irresistible.
Before Fluttershy could stop herself, she was out of her seat. She was out of the kitchen and down the hallway.
Whatever was calling to her had to be important. It felt like it was a part of her.
And whatever Twilight had been telling her was incorrect. Fluttershy knew the symptoms of heat stroke, and this wasn’t it. Whatever Twilight was panicking over and how Fluttershy was feeling had to be connected; Fluttershy just knew it.
The feeling grew stronger the deeper she delved into the castle. Fluttershy’s stroll turned into a hopeful trot. On any other day, she would get lost in these endless hallways, but today felt different.
Fluttershy’s trot slowed to a halt as she made it to a dead end. She cocked her head. That couldn’t be right. Whatever she was looking for was meant to be right here! Fluttershy approached the wall, curiously pressing her hoof against it. To her surprise, it creaked open. Inside laid a descending stairwell.
The pulling force came back full force, nearly knocking Fluttershy off her hooves. Whatever was calling for her was in there. Fluttershy pushed the door open, noticing a light at the bottom of the steps.
She put a hoof forward and-
“Fluttershy!” Twilight interrupted, nearly making Fluttershy stumble down the stairs. “There you are! Do you know how dangerous it is to wander?” Twilight scolded. Fluttershy’s ears pinned back. She wasn’t a filly.
Twilight began to nudge at Fluttershy’s flank, pushing her away from the door.
“It’s not safe for you to be up like this. I think it’s best if you get some rest.” Twilight suggested. Well, to Fluttershy, it felt more like an order. Fluttershy tried to fight the motion, but it was no use. She was being inched away from the one thing she wanted.
“Twilight-”
“If you go to bed now, you’ll feel completely better by noon!”
“But, Twilight-”
“Don’t worry, you’ll be okay!”
“Twilight, listen!” Fluttershy clamored. Twilight scampered back. Fluttershy cleared her throat, fixing her composure.
“I’m sorry for raising my voice, but you’re not listening,” Fluttershy explained. She pointed to the open doorway. “I need to go into that room.”
Twilight stared at Fluttershy, her jaw slack.
“You don’t need to go in there. It’s…it’s…” Twilight stammered, trying to think of an excuse. Fluttershy put her hoof up, shushing the alicorn.
“I don’t know why, but it feels like a piece of me is trapped in there.” Fluttershy gestured toward the door. She eyed Twilight’s nervous demeanor. “And I think this has something to do with you too.”
Twilight bit her lip, looking in between Fluttershy and the open doorway. What would Fluttershy do if she found out? Would she run? Would she scream? Twilight couldn’t be sure. “Whatever it is, I can handle it,” Fluttershy reassured.
The alicorn opened her mouth to respond but quickly shut it. Who was she to deny Fluttershy this? It would be her only shot at closure. She let out a defeated sigh.
“...Okay, okay, fine,” Twilight muttered. She backed into the doorway, lowering her head. “Just… have an open mind about it.”
Fluttershy followed, descending the stairs. Twilight’s breathing quickened, her legs trembling.
“I-I know this is going to look bad, but it’s not!” Twilight chuckled. “In fact, I think you’re going to laugh.”
Fluttershy had her doubts, but she needed to trust Twilight. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be all bad. By the time the pair reached the bottom, Twilight looked like she was about to pass out. She shakily brought up her hoof, pointing to the other side of the room.
“What…” Twilight gulped,” What you’re looking for is over there.” She wearily informed. Fluttershy craned her neck forward, approaching what her heart had been longing for.
It was her. Clearly dead: broken and grotesque. She should’ve felt something, anything. Instead, she felt at ease. But that didn’t stop her from asking that fated question.
Twilight sputtered over her words, giggling between each stutter.
“Now, Fluttershy, I didn’t do this! It was that nasty Ursa Major!” She defended. “You know I would never do anything to hurt you. You’re one of my best friends!” She threw her hoof out, pointing to the corpse.
“I’m just making everything better! You’re better!” Twilight continued. Fluttershy slowly nodded, wearily processing this information. Did she need to be better? Fluttershy didn’t think so.
Twilight’s ramblings became distant as Fluttershy’s eyes wandered to her corpse.
That’s what had been calling her. Herself. It was a call from the universe. Well, it was more like a cry for help than a call.
Upon closer inspection, Fluttershy noticed flies buzzing around her corpse. How long had her body been down there? She began to focus on the bugs around her. They didn’t chatter or sing like every other bug she had met. They just…buzzed. Usually, Fluttershy would find that change frightening, but right now, she wasn’t feeling much of anything. Fluttershy was at the least happy that her body had one last use.
“I would like to have a funeral.” Fluttershy interrupted. Twilight’s senseless rant came to a halt.
“...Pardon?”
“I would like to have a funeral,” Fluttershy repeated. “It’s the proper thing to do.”
Twilight scrunched her muzzle. Why would they have a funeral for a lifeless husk? The real Fluttershy was standing right in front of her, healthier than ever. It would be like having a funeral for a clone; there would be no point.
Twilight opened her mouth, trying to come up with an argument. What would the point of rejecting the idea? It’s not like it would matter by tomorrow.
If anything, it’ll make Fluttershy realize how much better her life would be. They’d have their little ceremony, Fluttershy would mourn, and then she’d be fine!
“Fine, but please make it quick. I need to finish fixing you.” Twilight begged. Fluttershy recoiled at the word ‘fix.’ There was nothing for Twilight to fix.
Fluttershy paced behind Twilight’s castle, her hooves prodding at the dirt below. Twilight stood close, watching Fluttershy intently.
“Perfect!” Fluttershy exclaimed, finding a spot to dig.
“Let’s make this quick. The moisture isn’t good for you.” Twilight instructed.
“I’ll be done when I’m done.” Fluttershy snapped back. She understood that Twilight was under stress, but funerals took time. She picked up the shovel, lowering it into the dirt.
“Careful! I don’t want you to get mud in your crevices!” Twilight fussed. She yanked the shovel from Fluttershy’s hooves. “I’ll just do it.” Twilight twirled the shovel in her magic.
She shoved the tool into the soggy dirt. Twilight dug and dug. The hole became 6 feet.
Then 10.
Then 17.
She had no clue how long she had been digging, but she hoped it was an eternity. If she kept going, she’d never have to have this stupid funeral. Fluttershy would forever await her presence, peering down from above. But, unfortunately, it couldn’t work the way she wanted.
She dug and dug and dug until- 'clang!'
Much to Twilight’s dislike, she had hit a boulder. It was far too big to dig around. Twilight flapped her wings, launching herself from the grave. Fluttershy hummed, holding the corpse in her arms. Soggy flowers were braided into its mane.
“I made her a flower crown. I do this for all of my animal friends when they pass.” Fluttershy informed. Twilight huffed, landing next to Fluttershy. She didn’t see why that was necessary; this was only a simple burial.
“Hurry up, it looks like it’s going to rain again.” Twilight rushed. Fluttershy raised her hoof, stopping the alicorn from speaking further.
“We have to honor Fluttershy’s life.” Fluttershy scolded. Twilight rolled her eyes. There was nothing to honor if she was still here. But she did argue.
Fluttershy nudged the corpse, letting it tumble into the grave. It hit the ground with a hard thud. She pressed her hooves together, shutting her eyes.
“Here lies Fluttershy. She was a kind, caring friend to many creatures, ponies and animals alike.” Fluttershy began. “She lived as she died. Caring for herself and others.” Fluttershy peeked an eye open.
“Don’t you have any words you want to say?” Fluttershy asked. Twilight upturned her nose, her ears pinned back.
“There’s nothing to say about someone who isn’t dead.” Twilight snapped. Fluttershy frowned.
“I know it’s going to be hard, but you need to accept that she’s gone.”
“But you’re not gone! You’re right here!” Twilight argued.
“But Fluttershy-”
“I’m not Fluttershy.” She retorted. “The real Fluttershy has left this mortal plane.”
Twilight sputtered. “You’re the real Fluttershy, just in a new body!”
“You can give me her memories and personality, but you can’t make me her,” Fluttershy stated. “I don’t have her talents or her experiences."
Twilight furiously shook her head, stomping her hoof.
“Stop it! I’m fixing my mistakes.”
Fluttershy sighed, approaching Twilight. She brought her hoof to the alicorn's cheek.
“Look at me, okay?” Fluttershy instructed. “Fluttershy was a pony. She had a life, and now it’s over. I'm something that's taking her place. I'm not Fluttershy, I'm a replacement.”
Twilight opened her mouth to argue once again but was quickly hushed.
“I need you to look into the grave and tell me what you see.” Fluttershy pointed to the grave. Twilight wearily approached the grave, her legs trembling. She didn’t know what she was so nervous about. If she looked, she would see a corpse. A lifeless being. Nothing more, nothing less.
Twilight cautiously looked over the edge.
For the first time that night, Twilight truly looked at Fluttershy. That wasn’t just some Jane Doe; that was her friend. Despite her broken figure, she looked peaceful.
The feelings from the hours before finally bubbled over, coming out in a scream. Twilight bawled until her throat burned. Her knees gave out, plummeting her against the mud.
“There, there. It’s alright.” Fluttershy comforted, pulling Twilight into a hug.
“It’s not alright! I’m sorry! I’m sorry that I took you to the forest. It’s my fault that you died.” Twilight hiccuped. She wiped the never-ending tears from her cheeks. She pulled away from the hug, giving Fluttershy a far-too-big grin. She gripped Fluttershy’s metal shoulders.
“But it’s okay now! You’re here, and I fixed everything!” Twilight’s smile began to waver.
Fluttershy sighed.
“Twilight-”
“Please, please, come back with me. I’ll make you as good as new! I’ll erase tonight from your brain; just please stay.” Twilight begged. “Our friends need you. I need you.”
Fluttershy backed from Twilight’s grasp.
“Twilight…I’m sorry you feel this way, but it’s my time to go.” Fluttershy stated. She shuffled to the grave, gazing down at herself.
Fluttershy gave Twilight one last heartwarming smile.
“Goodbye.” And with that, Fluttershy stepped backward, dropping into the all-too-deep grave.
“FLUTTERSHY!” Twilight shrieked, scattering to the edge. The robot lay at the bottom, nearly broken into bits. The boulder at the bottom had crushed her. Sparks flew from her head, wires poking from crevices.
Twilight levitated the broken bot, pulling it close to her chest. Her crevices were filled with mud and pebbles. Twilight could fix this; she could fix anything! It would take longer, but she could do it.
As long as she had Fluttershy’s magic, she could bring her back over and over! Twilight laughed, tears streaking her cheeks.
She pressed her ear against her chest, listening for the tell-tale hum of magic. Instead, she was met with silence. No heartbeat, no hum. Just…silence
The once beautiful hum of magic was gone. The force of the fall had taken the little bit of Fluttershy that was left.
The alicorn curled around the robot, squeezing her eyes shut. The robot lay stiff in her arms.
