• Published 30th Dec 2012
  • 26,370 Views, 3,573 Comments

Through the Well of Pirene - Ether Echoes



[Now EQD Featured!] A young girl must travel to Equestria to rescue her kid sister from the clutches of a terrible magician.

  • ...
94
 3,573
 26,370

Epilogue - Part 2

Epilogue - Part 2

Daphne

The following morning, with the sky still dark, I entered a room of delicate indigos. A fireplace filled the space with gentle warmth and golden light, illuminating the clouds and shooting stars along the walls. On a large cushion, Celestia reclined, and her sister Luna stood at the balcony overlooking the last of the morning stars.

“I’m glad you could make it so early.” Celestia smiled warmly, rising to welcome me. I was pleased to see that her legs no longer trembled, though a faint sagging and weariness belied her health. “I hope my sister’s call didn’t disturb you.”

“I can’t say I’m used to people inviting me out to places in my dreams,” I said, “but it’s fine; it wasn’t exactly the best sleep anyway. How can I help you, Celestia?” The cushion Celestia offered me was warm and snug and I looked between the two questioningly, only belatedly realizing that I’d called her by her first name without attaching the honorific. That was a weird lapse on my part, but something about the meeting made it feel strangely right.

Luna paid the indiscretion no mind. “My sister has been too polite to impose upon you in such a fashion, but your imminent departure spurred me to swallow courtesy and involve you in a personal matter.” She turned from the balcony, regarding me with a deep, serious expression that failed to hide an acute sadness. “I have very little memory of my childhood, save that I apparently gave my sister many fits about a somewhat wild and misspent youth, but the one thing I have absolutely no memory of… are my mother and father.”

Oh. Did that get awkward fast.

Celestia smiled sadly and gestured apologetically with a wing. “I know this is an intensely personal thing to ask and can’t imagine you enjoy invading others’ lives, but my sister and I would be deeply grateful if you could help us understand them. It’s a sad irony that my own memories of them are largely gained through Amelia’s jarring of memories I thought long lost. More than just for personal reasons, though, I want to better understand their intentions and what went into creating this land we know today as Equestria.”

“Though the personal reasons are still the more important of the two,” Luna added assertively. She folded her wings and walked forward to sit away from the fire, with the firelight flickering in the deep blue of her coat.

I kneaded the cushions under my hooves and sighed faintly. “No. I understand. If I didn’t grow up with my parents, I’d want to know as much as I could about them, too.” The prospect of playing necromancer didn’t sit well with me. I’d have to dig not only into an incredibly painful episode of their pasts, but expose myself to the pain and suffering of not only them, but the Bridle’s other victims as well in that ancient war.

The more I thought about it, though, the more that sounded like a selfish thing. For all their age and wisdom, these were two orphans who had struggled all their lives to keep their parents’ legacy intact. If I could in some way reunite them with an important part of themselves that they’d lost, it would not only bring them long-awaited peace, but putting my powers to such a use would help vindicate my role as intermediary.

“Of course,” I said, offering the royal sisters a small smile. “I’ll help.”

“Thank you,” Celestia said simply.

“Where to begin…” I exhaled to steady myself and cleared my mind, opening it fully. Images began to flood in, strange shapes and figures rippling through the cosmos. I focused on Celestia, and then Luna, absorbing their unique natures and then taking them together, drawing back the veil. I’d looked into the future with Leit Motif, and now I gazed into the past through eyes three thousand years old.

Green mist poured from my horn as I shaped an image with unicorn magic. The color deepened to midnight blue, and Celestia cooed as a tiny Luna formed on the ground between us. The actual Luna blushed as darkly as Leit Motif. Then another shaped form, starting with a dark cerulean tail that flowed around baby Luna like a river in its own current and rising to form a dark silver coat. “Queen Theia,” I whispered. A wing tucked around the tiny foal and her face was awash with motherly grace.

“Mercurial, as changeable as the moon and less predictable,” I said, and the whisper and roar of the sea filled the small room. “She could be as calm as a summer’s day or as fierce as a winter storm.”

Theia, tall and proud, flashed her horn with terrible power and lightning flashed around her. Her wings beat waves into froth and the winds into gales.

“They called her the glittering one, and she outshined her sisters. Whether filled with vim or sunk into melancholy, she was always in motion. She was the child of the sea and to the sea she returned.”

A new sound entered the room, the drumbeat of hooves on stone, the crash of waves against rock. Storm-tossed sea gave way to stony beaches, and then to wild and fertile land, a green place embraced between the hills and vales. “Ox-shouldered, stone-hooved, King Kreios,” I announced, and an auburn stallion strode into view. He surprised me with how bright his colors were, and he gave at once an impression of boundless vitality and life, an impression emphasized by his broad smile.

“Far from being stern like his own father, Kreios was full of mirth. He always had a ready joke, sometimes infuriating others for how unserious he seemed.” The stallion often seemed to forget he had wings, bounding from hilltop-to-hilltop with thunderous impacts. He wandered into a human village as if he belonged there, nosing at fresh apples and commenting on the wine. “He loved nothing so much as new things, be they ideas, inventions, crops, or children. He raised villages, fields, and even the very mountain we’re standing on.” Two girl-children clung to his wings and a gaggle of foals climbed on his back.

“It hurt him terribly when the second War came. He believed until the last that a diplomatic solution could be found, if only they could reach the humans who had caused so much trouble.”

“He was right,” Celestia murmured, “three thousand years late, but he was right.”

“If our mother had not… slain him… do you think he might have succeeded?” Luna asked grimly. “Celestia’s memories were the key in turning Amelia, after all. Surely, somepony such as our father would have had as great an influence.”

I shook my head. “I can’t answer that. Even if I could, I don’t think it would help anypony here. I can say that they were both amazing ponies. They earned the title of King and Queen by bringing the ponies of the world together across cultural boundaries, and it’s thanks to them that anypony escaped at all.”

“What of Pirene?” Celestia asked. “You mentioned our mother having sisters, and, of them all, she’s had such an influence in our lives without our knowing that I find myself quite interested.”

My lips pursed together tightly. For some reason, the question struck me as oddly personal—for me, not just for them. In a strange sense, it felt like they were the ones intruding on my own family.

That was a queer thought all over. Except at the same time it wasn’t. How had Pirene put it? Child of my spirit?

Pirene had a son, Cloud Breaker, the one known to future myth-makers as Pegasus, the first victim of the War. I knew next-to-nothing about Pirene herself, though, and nothing at all about Cloud Breaker. As far as I could tell, she’d had no other children, and I was in a position to know such things. The secret of her influence was quiet and unknown by most, yet it affected me in a deep way that I didn’t understand.

Still, I cleared my mind again, and drew closer to the source, that energy which flowed from some ineffable place above to and through me.

A wing fell across my back, tucking around me much as Celestia’s had the day before, yet infinitely more intimate. Ahead, the room had fallen away to reveal a silver moon which stood above its own rippling reflection in a star-filled ocean. I looked down to find grass beneath my hooves, then up at the sea-green alicorn mare who lived there, in my private island of memory on a sea that never was.

There, in my memory, the buildings were intact. The village below was empty and the palace on the hill had only her, but pristine it stood, perfect in our minds for all time.

She let me contemplate in silence as I looked around at the island. More than just a memory palace, I realized then that it was the very source of my strange nature. The waters that flowed from heaven collected here. That place was profoundly connected to me, which meant that everything had meaning.

“You know,” I said thoughtfully, “the women in my family have always been regarded as strange. Women scholars. Suffragettes. Constantly in trouble with religious and temporal authority. My sister is strangely brilliant for her age. Even Leit Motif, in a way, has a connection to this place. Like sisters. None of that is coincidence, is it?”

“Little in your life is,” Pirene said with a small smile.

“I never understood your place in this.” I frowned. “My birth was engineered, but by what? Chiron, the teacher of heroes, was to train me, but how was I to come about to begin with? It seems like they could pick anyone, unless they had some reason to believe that there would be a chance at something special. Something unique.”

“Go on,” she encouraged, her wing nudging me faintly.

“This is your home, isn’t it?” I asked, and she nodded. “It’s where you raised Cloud Breaker. But you never had another child. I’m not physically descended from you. Even if I was, you must hate humans for what they did to your son, don’t you?”

“I did,” she agreed. “For a long time, I held onto that hatred. All through the War. After they ransacked it and I drove them off, I remained here, isolate, stewing on my own loss and fury.” She rose, and I followed her as she walked off, down the hillside and through the ruined village. “I was never as strong or charismatic as Theia. I didn’t really care to join the fight, anyway, so wrapped up in my grief I was.”

We stopped at a tide pool. It was a great pit set away from the beaches, where mud collected from all over the island and percolated with the stuff of the sea. Right now, at low tide, the pool was mostly exposed, but for a few brave crabs and the bright green algae-crusted remnants of the water below.

Algae, I noticed, the same color as my eyes. My heart pounded.

“In the time of chaos,” Pirene said into my stunned silence, “the first people were shaped from mud.” Her horn lit and a human figure was formed the muck. “And then life was breathed into them by their primordial mother.”

The stars above glittered as Pirene drew primordial strength from her soul and through her lungs, and when she breathed into the figurine’s mouth it warmed and hardened until the clay cracked and fell away to reveal a green-eyed human child. I felt that breath echo down through the ages to enter my lungs like hot bellows air and fill me with strength.

“I wanted to understand them, from the deepest layer. I wanted to know what sort of creature could so deeply destroy my flesh and blood. I made a child. I raised her. I taught her.” She sighed, looking at the silent, curious child. “And I discovered that the evil I’d sought, the sin I’d thought your kind was born with, was no where to be found. I grew to love this strange human child of mine. And, finally, I set her free. She had girl-children of her own in time, and on and on, each bearing a portion of my ichorous essence, and I watched over them all. It took her a very, very long time, but the animating spirit I set within her came back to me at last. She finally came home.”

I covered my face, unable to stop the tears. “What was her name?” I asked, croaking. “What… is my name?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” She nuzzled me gently, drying my eyes with her wing and holding me close. “What sign heralded your return home?”

Sign? Of course, the lights above the sky when I returned to the Island. “Eos,” I said, the Greek coming to me as naturally as anything else. Aurora.

“That’s my girl,” she whispered. “Human with a mare’s soul. That is what the Seer sought; someone to bridge the gap formed by hate with love, a child of both worlds.”

There was no helping it. I had to laugh. “You know, maybe I didn’t fail, then, exactly.”

“Oh?”

“Amelia has a bit of that nature, too, and so does Leit Motif, somehow. I’m not sure how that works.”

“No one ever said souls were simple things.”

“My love for Amelia was a major part of what turned her at the end. Even if I wasn’t entirely there, a part of me was, through them.”

“The bonds of friendship and love are powerful forces.” She laughed and nuzzled at me with fierce affection. “And you could never be a failure in my eyes. Perhaps I’m biased as all mothers should be, but I think you’ve grown to be a beautiful, capable young mare, and I trust you will grow to be worthy of my legacy and my gifts.”

“I don’t know if I will,” I whispered, “but I will try, M-Mother.”

“There, you said it.” She kissed my horn. “Was that so hard?”

“I still have another mother, you know!” I protested, smiling.

“I know, and in a way she’s of me, too.” She chuckled. “My, that makes my family tree very complicated indeed. You are my Aurora, though; the full and complete manifestation. Never sell yourself short, never forget who you are or where you come from. Aurora, Aquarius, Water Bearer. Those names still have meaning in the new Age.”

“I won’t,” I promised. “Thank you. I… thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now, go. You have a long road ahead today, and I can’t keep you from your friends and other family forever.”

“I’ll see you again?”

“Of course. I love you, Aurora.”

“I love you, too, Mother.”

Her warmth and closeness was replaced with the pillow under my head. I glanced up and found the sun in the sky, freshly raised. Luna returned from the balcony, looking exhausted, and I reminded myself that she’d been taking on the duties of raising both celestial orbs and hardly sleeping between.

Briefly, I wondered what would happen if—or perhaps when—Midgard truly reunited. The sun and moon here operated largely because this was a weird splinter of a greater world. I wondered what that would mean for their cutie marks. Then again, this division had removed much of what was metaphorical and strange from the rest of Midgard, so perhaps the reunification would simply make things weirder for everyone.

“Aurora, is it?” Celestia said into my ear and I jolted.

“What, how did—?”

“Our aunt appeared briefly while you were out,” Luna explained, and a smile crossed her face, one of the few that I’d seen. “She elaborated on some key details.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Celestia said as my face turned bright red. “Your secrets are safe with us. For now.”

“We’ll understand if calling us cousin seems inappropriate. Truly, I think the term is meaningless in your case, but that’s a complicated topic.”

“It does,” I admitted, still beet red. I coughed into a knee. “Uh. No offense. You are and aren’t family.”

“Perhaps time will change that,” Celestia said. “You and your sister have a lot of it ahead of you. Forgive us if we’re a little presumptuous—we’ve spent a great deal of time without anyone to call kin. I’ve come to understand that blood is hardly necessary to be family, but it is still very exciting.”

I frowned. “Speaking of… Celestia, what is it you plan to do with Amelia?”

“Little enough. I don’t think there’s any punishment I can possibly level that would affect her positively—indeed, I think it would only serve to make her feel better in a twisted fashion. In her current state, she’s inclined to self-flagellation, which is never a good impulse to encourage.” She shook her head sadly. “She has to atone for what she did. She will, which is why I’m letting her free, but it has to come from within. She needs to learn that forgiveness isn’t something that’s just given to you, but something you have to work for and earn for yourself.”

“Not to mention to herself,” Luna muttered.

Celestia gave her sister a sympathetic look and reached up to nuzzle at her cheek briefly. “We all forgive you, sister.”

“I know,” Luna said without elaboration.

“That’s still an awful lot of trust, don’t you think?” I said, after the moment had passed.

Celestia nodded. “I lived in her mind, as she did in mine. I know her thoughts and what she intends.”

“All right, fair enough. I will look after her, I promise. That’s something I need to atone for, too.” I rose to my feet. “Well… I should get going. We’re supposed to leave while you’re giving Twilight and Captain Holder the awards ceremony, after all.”

“Perish the thought that you should be honored for your contributions to the kingdom,” she said teasingly.

I stuck my tongue out. “Thank you, but no thank you. Ponies will know who I am soon enough, once the gossip from the Lodestone’s crew and the goblins gets around. Poor Leit Motif would have a heart attack, and Marcus’s and Lyra’s heads are already too swollen as it is. I don’t even want to know what Naomi would do, but it’s probably unseemly and not fit for company.”

“If you insist, then. We’ll be sure to speed you on the way back to your world. I understand you’ll be traveling with the goblins?”

“At least part of the way, yes.” I nodded. “We’ll part in the Everfree. And thank you.”

“Be sure to return to Equestria soon, Daphne. I’m sure your new friends would like to see you again.”

I smiled and nodded again. “Of course.”

The sisters bid me farewell at the door, both in dire need of rest from their respective ordeals. The castle servants hung banners and streamers across the ivory halls as I made my way down to the docks where the others waited. Some of them pointed and stared at me shamelessly, and I wondered briefly how long it took rumors from drunken sailors to get around a place like this. In just a few hours the viewing public would be treated to Twilight Sparkle, her friends, and Captain Holder receiving honors in place of Leit Motif and the others, though. And me, I suppose, though it’s hard to feel like I really had the impact others said I did, if only because I spent most of the final hours of the battle locked in a completely different struggle for survival with only brief signals to the outside.

It was hard not to shudder and become lost in the thoughts of the place the Morgwyn had dragged me into in its last, desperate attempt to complete the derailment of history and time. Even for someone as steeped in dream logic as I am, it’s still nearly impossible to put meaning to the experience. A place where even the slightest thought had real and immediate consequences that were swallowed in a scattering pattern of meaningless chaos. Imposing some manner of sane order on it, enough to maintain my sense of self, had been difficult enough without a monster stalking me like a toothy shadow. Sometimes, as I look back on it, the whole experience seems to encompass little more than a few hectic, bloody minutes where it was purely my will asserting itself, but when I look at it from another angle, it’s as if I spent days conceiving fiendish puzzles and scenarios to entrap and defeat the Morgwyn in an intellectual battle. In some way, it seemed as if every version in my memory was somehow simultaneously and equivalently true.

It was a sobering reminder that creatures like the Morgwyn, with similar designs on the world, lurked and waited for their chance. They’d unleash their creators and return the world to that maddening design if they could.

Such thoughts inevitably led me back to my sister’s most singular act of raw, merciless justice. I cast my gaze out and perceived “Morgan” still lurking in the shadows of the garden. Every so often she’d shift slightly, raising or lowering a wing, her hair shielding her eyes from the sun. I hadn’t asked Celestia about her fate and had little opinion on the matter. We’d had it out, she and I, and I’d proven to my satisfaction who was the better, so as far as I was concerned it was even between us. That she’d become my sister’s dark twin was something I didn’t terribly want to think about.

Perhaps Discord would approach and mock her, or maybe Luna would visit her in her dreams, there in the one place where she could still catch on to the fading tendrils of her memories of true chaos. Regardless, it was hard to see any form of redemption in her future. I’d seen no sign that there was even a chance of her comprehending that what she had done was wrong.

Ah, well. No one ever said that being a better big sister meant agreeing with Amelia on everything she did.

The castle’s docks were a modest affair, a late addition to the thousand year-old structure embedded into the living rock beneath its northern face. The transport Celestia had offered us was a sleek, slender craft with sky-blue wood and a long, sharp prow. Marcus, still a pegasus, was already on board and chatting up the pilot, a young mare who was blushing far too much.

Heaps of luggage were being transported into the vessels by longshoremares, largely souvenirs and other gifts Naomi was bringing back from Equestria. How she’d paid for all of it and how she planned to transport it all back to our side of Midgard was entirely beyond me. Beside the small mountain stood Maille, Twig, and the other goblins. Rose, despite her ferocious attitude, looked mildly upset as she stared at the ground.

They were all facing Flash, who’d assumed her white-maned goblin form once again, and beside her stood the gangly Wire. I smiled as I saw them; I could still remember when they’d first met again after all that time…

* * *

Flash hadn’t so much as limped back from her fight with the maelstrom as been carried. A pegasus had found her collapsed on a cloud and had brought her to the castle, thinking her some strange yellow thestral no doubt. The moment taciturn little Wire had seen her she’d burst into tears and raced to embrace her, babbling incoherently. Flash’s eyes had opened then, and she’d stroked the younger filly’s mane with a hoof. “Ach. Still a crybaby after all these years, bairn?”

“I’m not a crybaby!” Wire protested, her eyes streaming tears. She smacked her sister with her hooves. “You big, stupid mare! Ya go missin’ all this time and when ye’re right there you go and get yourself killed!”

“I’m not dead yet. Oof. Though if’n you keep beatin’ me I might get internal bleedin’ or somethin’. Won’t that just be a tidy way to die.”

“I was so scared without you,” Wire whimpered. Her tail curled up around herself and she buried her face into Flash’s side. “I didn’t know what to do. I was just livin’ day-to-day and then I was a fugitive and, and…”

“Shh, s’all right, Wire. I’m here for ya now,” Flash whispered, her own eyes wet as she drew her sister into her embrace weakly. “I can’t say how much I’m sorry. I was so scared of goin’ back for you, I thought for sure they’d be watchin’... it’s a coward’s excuse, I know. I’ve done a right proper job of bein’ a bloody awful sister.” She cracked an eye open and stared at her. “Wait, a fugitive? How in the Nine Worlds did you get here, anyway?”

“Amelia kinda sorta kidnapped me,” Wire said, sniffling. “And then I, well, I busted the Crusaders out of the Cup Palace and we snuck aboard the Wand Air Fortress and beat up Mister Fetter and took his wand, and then we went up on the mountain and fought the titanspawn…”

“You did all that?” Flash asked wonderingly. “My little scaredy-cat?”

“I was shakin’ in my hooves the whole time!” Wire shuffled her hooves. “I ain’t cut out for this adventurin’ stuff!”

“You’re a little hero is what you are. Ain’t that just the tidiest thing I ever did hear.” She laughed and squeezed Wire against her tightly, and the memory faded back to reality.

* * *

The goblins stood facing one another, and Flash stood with her wing about her sister’s side, holding her as if she never planned to let go. I knew that feeling.

“Cous, it ain’t like the new Wand King is gonna punish you for vanishin’ like you did,” Pinion said. She blew her electric mane out of her face and held a hoof out imploringly. “Come on, Flash! You’re like family—we just found you and everything!”

“I am your family.” Flash rolled her eyes. “I’m serious, though. I already took this up with Princess Twilight forever ago. I don’t belong in the goblin world anymore; I have a life here, a real life on my own terms where who I am matters.”

“You matter to us,” Twig said quietly.

Flash’s ear twitched, and she lowered her gaze slightly. “It ain’t like I won’t be able to see you girls again. With travel openin’ up again, I could come see you whenever the fancy struck. It’s just… I get you, but this is where I belong. That old place I called home? It ain’t home no more, and nothing can change that, because I’ve already changed.”

That one struck a chord. I rubbed my chest, glancing away.

Maille reached down and put a hand on Twig’s shoulder. “It’s all right. She’s made up her mind.” She kneeled and slid her arms around the goblin mare. “You’re always welcome at my place in Mag Mell.”

Rose scuffed at the floor and refused to look up. Flash looked at her sadly, but nothing was said between them.

Marble Stone, who’d also been silent all this time, cleared her throat. “Well. I can certainly sympathize, after what I’ve been through. That’s a tidy little joke, innit? You were born a goblin and now you’re off to become a pony, where I’m goin’ the opposite way.”

“I might want to go travelin’ in Equestria myself,” Pinion said, “Pinkie promised to paint the town pink with me once I got back!”

“You two were clearly meant for one another,” Flash snorted. “Oh, reminds me.” She pulled Wire forward, who cringed automatically. “I’m taking my sister with me. You’ll be sure to tell my folks, right, Pin?”

“Of course! I’m sure they’ll not come after you with axes for abandoning them and returning only long enough to steal their other daughter.”

“Pinion,” Maille said with an exasperated edge, but whatever else she was going to add was lost as a soft clicking of wood and stone drew their attention. Amelia, her long golden hair tied up and her eyes tired, strode in with her white ash staff tapping the ground. She still wore the tunic Maille had given her, though the chain armor was tucked away, for lack of anything else that fit. When the others turned to see her, she stopped as well.

Her eyes searched the faces of the goblins, and she seemed momentarily at a loss. Time and the deep shame which was her constant companion draped from her shoulders like a heavy cloak. Eventually, she broke the silence. “Hello, everyone. I’m glad to see… that you’re all okay.”

There was no answer. Wire stepped forward uncertainly, but she seemed to be having trouble speaking through a throat rendered tight by emotion.

Amelia herself had to pause a moment to gather her courage before speaking. “I want to say that, well… I’m sorry.”

Rose snorted. “Yeah? Why so? We’re the ones who screwed you over.”

Maille and Twig glared at her.

“What?” she shrugged. “It’s true, isn’t it? We lied to her first.” She stepped forward, looking up at Amelia with hard eyes. “Yeah, so you tried to screw everyone in the Worlds, but that wasn’t personal. Everything back on the Fortress was you getting back at us, so as far as I’m concerned we’re even on that score.” She looked back at the others. “It’s not the first time I accepted a King who did things I didn’t exactly agree with, and at least she’s willing to own up to it, unlike Nessus.”

“I’m still sorry,” Amelia insisted, “especially for how I hurt Twig. I mean, sure, she lied to me, too… but come on, that was brutal. And I should have trusted you, Maille. I’m sorry because I didn’t; I knew better, and I did the wrong thing anyway.”

“Mm, yes,” Maille agreed, “and I should have listened to my own conscience long before. We all should have. We, all of us—” she nudged Marble Stone “—had warning signs and uncomfortable moments where we doubted ourselves. We weren’t children anymore, but we still acted like it.”

Marble Stone flicked her glossy tail and grit her teeth. “Yeah,” she said through a clenched jaw, “I was kind of a jerk, too.”

“Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that,” Amelia said, her shoulders straightening.

Marble looked back at her, her face stony and hard. “I’m sorry you got hurt, and I’m sorry I was wrong, but I’m not going to excuse my actions. Yeah, I shouldn’t have kept you prisoner to begin with, but I was doing my job. I believed, honestly, that I was protecting the goblins I loved by fulfilling our mission.” She frowned, her facade cracking somewhat. “Well, that’s not entirely true. I mean… I screwed up by not listening to my doubts and questioning authority more thoroughly. Fine, so I am sorry about that. But I still think that given what I knew at the time, I did what I had to do. When I opposed you at the Fort, I saw you as a lying little cyth—” she bit off the goblin swear and started again “—cheat, and I did what I could to stop you.”

“I know,” Amelia said with a nod, “and, actually, I agree. You were the only one to see through my lies. And for that…” She reached into her bag and pulled out a long, gnarled length of wood, one that had been burned indelibly into my memory—more thoroughly than most things already are, that is.

“Fetter’s Wand?” Rose asked, startled.

“Not so much anymore.” Amelia shook her head. “After getting smacked around by the Crusaders, he pretty much gave up. I think he was grateful when I asked for his Wand back.” She stepped forward to Marble Stone, and all at once the chamber seemed to have a solemn air as she laid the Wand down before her. “Marble Stone, you have proven that you have a discerning eye, a willingness to act in the best interests of your friends, and the humility to understand your own limitations and work to better yourself. Perhaps as importantly, you opposed me, and it is the duty of a goblin Knight to stand for what is right, even when that decision is unpopular or difficult. Would you do me the honor of becoming that Knight for me?”

Marble Stone rocked back on her heels so far she fell on her rump. Maille laughed and helped her up. “What… me?” Marble Stone asked. “I was terrible to you!”

“And my sister healed you. Can you really say that you’re just Kiln anymore?”

The goblin mare chewed her lip. “You’ll swear it, on the Wand? If I swear to do you service as a loyal Knight, you will listen to my advice and allow me latitude in carrying out the needs of the Court?”

“Done, and done,” Amelia swore, “three times done.”

Sun-bright fire leapt between them, and the lesser Wand rose in the air, connected to the greater by searing flame. Marble Stone reached out a leg and hooked it around the end, and for just an instant they were enveloped in a blinding flash.

Marble Stone slid the Wand reverently into a strap at her side, sighing. “I guess this solidifies it. No going back home for me.”

There’s that twinge again.

Amelia leaned against her staff, exhaling heavily. “Thank you. There is, ah, something I need to do.” She turned, then, and knelt before Wire to put herself at the teenage goblin’s level. “Wire… you… were my most faithful friend, and I abused you every inch of the way. I don’t… I don’t even know how to start making up for that. You were the hero, not me. If I’d listened to you, everything would have worked out better.”

Wire did what she did best: wibbled. She garbled uselessly for a bit, trying to find words. Her tail lashed back and forth. She ran a hoof through her mane and bumped up against her goggles, then peeled them off and fidgeted with them. “Moonlight—I mean, Amy—I mean, King Amy-elia. Ah. Amy. I… well, that is to say… don’t be so hard on yourself. I mean, yeah, you did kidnap me, and then I was terrified out of my skull the entire time, and sparks alive I thought I was going to die, but…” She looked up at her with her eyes shining with tears. “I felt like I mattered. I don’t know if that’s just me being blinkered or what, but…”

“You did matter,” Amy promised. “I went back to the Cup Palace thinking I might be able to save you, but you were already gone.”

“I’m still mad at you,” Wire said in the direction of Amy’s shoes, her ears flat against her skull.

“Yeah. I’m mad at me, too. Can you…?” She trailed off, seemingly unable to bring herself to ask.

“Still be your friend?” Wire looked up at her. Amy nodded, and Wire nosed her. “Okay.”

Amy smiled gratefully. “Thank you. I guess we’re parting, for now, but I hope I can visit you in Equestria, soon. You’ll be happy here; Celestia’s made it a wonderful place.”

Wire laughed nervously, and I saw a young mare putting up Cloudsdale’s first electric lights, a young mother, a burning Cup. Everyone has little images dancing around them when you get right down to it. Interpreting them can be a full-time job in-and-of itself.

Marcus strode up as Amelia got to her feet and eyed the tall woman. “You sure grew up fast, little Anteater. Seems to me you were knee high just a little while ago.”

“And you look fuzzier than before. Forget to shave?” Amelia reached out to ruffle his mane and he danced back with his wings raised protectively.

Trotting in from the entrance came Naomi with a Royal Guardstallion in tow. She paused to give him a rather close goodbye—followed by a flick of her tail—before going the rest of the way to the airship on her own. “We all about set?” she asked brightly. “Oh, I’m going to miss this place.”

“Just about,” I answered, and paused as I saw one of the boxes she’d bought peek open. There were a set of large eyes attached to a brownish-blond mane that quickly vanished out of sight. I smirked and gazed through the outer layer to perceive Patch curled up inside where a sweater used to be. “Resourceful little minx,” I murmured.

“What’s that?” Naomi asked.

“Nothing. So, who was your friend back there?”

“As if you don’t know.” Naomi rolled her eyes. “You can probably tell how many siblings he has and of what gender with a glance.”

“So people keep reminding me. Still, I’d like to hear it from you.”

“Oh,” she said dismissively, “just a friend. We met earlier while I was at the market.”

“Just a friend, eh?” I grinned. “You didn’t promise to come see him later, did you?”

Naomi smiled mysteriously. “Who said anything about a promise?”

There were a lot of things I saw in Naomi’s future, but I think I’ll leave that for a surprise.

As the ship cast off and her engines hummed in their merry quest to take us back to the Everfree, we found Lyra and Leit Motif already on board, the latter crushing the young musician in their tenth consecutive chess match of the hour. Saria hissed and lashed her tail; she’d dispensed with her cloak, her rangy form scarred and sun-tanned. She prodded Lyra in the side. “You would not be losing so if you just took my advice, yes?”

“If I took your advice, I might as well let you play. I’m having fun!” Lyra waved her off.

The Seer, propped up in a cushy wheelchair, looked on with quiet amusement. His eyes turned towards me meaningfully, and Naomi quietly excused herself to go down and check on Hector in the hold. I took the unspoken invitation and walked up to the ancient goblin.

“You and your sister shine like newborn stars, Water Bearer,” he said by way of greeting and took my hoof in hand. “I wasn’t sure I’d ever see the like again in the race of Man, bar that old elf lingering around in the underworld.”

My ears perked. “Really? I thought all the other demigods had left.”

“Mm, leaving takes many forms.” He chuckled sadly. “Forgive me for not telling you the full truth about yourself sooner. Much, much sooner, in all respects. I still do not know how the Morgwyn kept you from sight; you were within reach the whole time and we scoured the earth in vain.”

“Hey, now—me, Amelia, and everyone else are already taking the blame for what happened.”

“Then there’s plenty to go around for me, considering I was a part of how it began. Me, and my long departed colleagues.” He sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Perhaps I will yet live to see our vision reimagined. I can hope for that.”

“What was the old world like?” I asked quietly. “I can’t really… well, I don’t see everything.

“The days before the Bridle came to be? Much as now, there was a real hope for the future.” The wizened goblin looked away, as if he, too, could stare into the distant past. “More mortals were being born, my kind proliferated in the dark spaces of the universe, but we believed we could conquer even that. There was a land where all the kinds came together, regardless of race, clan, or lineage, and worked to create a better world.” He exhaled and closed his eyes. “I was but a child when the War came upon us. So much was lost in so short a time. The land of Shinar burned, and all its marvelous works. There was technology the likes of which even you modern humans cannot yet conceive of, incorporating both the most advanced science and powerful of magic, works of art unparalleled to this day, and more. Its loss was a cataclysm so great that the world itself was reshaped, and we have been living in the Bridle’s shadow ever since.”

I heard Amelia’s hands tighten around her staff. I turned to look at her, but she’d gone over to where Twig was peering longingly over the railing back at the castle. “I have to ask you something.”

“Yes, uhm…”

“Just Amy, please,” she said, going to join her at the railing, “is there any chance that… someone could Produce the Bridle?”

The goblin magician flinched back automatically at the name. “No. I mean, well—no one’s ever been able to Produce something another person Vanished before, and not for lack of trying. It would be the greatest coup in the history of illusion. The key to Production is you have to memorize the thing you Vanish, which you might think someone else could replicate, but I’ve tried it myself. That said, no one’s ever Vanished anything like the Bridle before. It’s divine, and I don’t know what rules apply there.”

“Where do Vanished things go?”

Twig shook her head and ran a hoof through her bristly mane. “I don’t rightly know. No one does. Animals you put away come back as if no time at all had passed for them, so maybe it’s just moved in time somehow. Which of course leads to the question of determinism and whether or not we’re really making decisions instead of just playing out a causal chain of events and—”

“So if I forget about the Bridle sufficiently, it’s gone for good? Even I can’t bring it back?”

Twig deflated slightly. “Ah. Aye, so far as I know. I suppose it’s just as well, I don’t know if any force in the Nine Worlds can destroy it, not unless you unravel the conditions of how it was made.”

“Something to consider for the future,” Amelia said grimly as she watched the great blue mountain recede into the distance.

“I do not see why you play this game if you are doomed to endless failure,” Saria said, her grating tone suggesting that watching Lyra fail so badly caused her physical pain. “You are clearly accomplishing nothing and bringing only disaster onto yourself, yes.”

“That,” Lyra said airily as she moved her queen, “just proves you know nothing about my and Leit Motif’s relationship.”

Leit nodded as she ignored Lyra’s flailing assault and methodically destroyed her defenses. “Yeah, we—hey! Are you implying something? I’m not a disaster!”

I smiled and settled down by her side to watch. The landscape rolled by, hills glistening with fresh white snow and ponds and rivers turned into glassy black mirrors. As we approached the Everfree Forest, Marcus stuck his head off the side and gaped. “What the hell is that?”

“What?” Leit Motif asked, darting to the side. “I don’t see anything.”

“There!” he pointed. There below, the snow line ended abruptly just a few dozen meters from the forest’s entrance.

“I still don’t see anything odd.”

“Pegasi don’t mess around with the Everfree,” Pinion said brightly. “Usually, the cold weather will drop in eventually since it’s surrounding the woods, though there’s always gonna be parts of the Forest that are still way hot, since they’re getting tropical breezes too.”

“That’s just wrong,” Marcus muttered.

“I know, right?” Pinion flapped her wings emphatically and raised up little flurries. “What’s the sense in weather making itself?”

“That’s not—that is literally opposite to what I implied!”

“Oh, well, that’s daft. Imply oppositely next time if you don’t want to confuse folks.”

Per Twig’s direction, the airship set us down on the path leading from the Wand Keep deeper into the Forest, directly towards the Veil and the Way back to our side of earth. Naomi revealed the solution to her luggage dilemma by producing a horse hitch, pulling the whole great pile out herself. Hector, tossing his black mane enthusiastically, ran ahead and practically danced for joy away from the confines of the ship.

“Guess this is farewell for now,” Maille said, standing on the rail above. A warm breeze, still ripe with the scent of autumn, stirred her hair.

“We’ll return soon enough,” I promised, and paused to pay my respects to the Seer before stepping off with the others.

Saria came along as well, throwing her cloak over her shoulders before sauntering down the gangplank. “I will being going ahead. It is easier to get to my home this way, yes?” She turned to Amelia, looking her over thoughtfully. “It is remembered that you defeated our King in fair combat. It is still your wish to return the Sword to her?”

“Even if I wanted it, I can’t have it, and I have no right to dispense with it,” Amelia said sadly. “Also, I reject the idea that the fight was fair. Maybe the Sword itself agreed, but I had the Bridle and a powerful mare to ride with it.”

She smiled a sharp-toothed grin. “I know, but this one had to hear it from your own voice.”

Amelia grunted. “Your King Alisha is a good one. She fought against me even when it was clear I held overwhelming force, and still she nearly won because she was clever and fearless. So, yeah. Please. I want to erase that mistake.”

“Perhaps there is hope for the Wands after all.” She pinched her thumb and forefinger close together as if to emphasize precisely how little hope she held, but without further comment she hitched the box containing the true Sword on her back and marched into the wild at a quick, loping pace.

We found the Veil not too far from where the airship deposited us. What had once been a silvery river, the ancient expression of Theia’s divine will, was already little more than a trickle in its banks. In a few years, it would be little more than a splash. With a gaggle of ponies, a horse, and a goblin, we had no difficulty passing it.

Autumn leaves lay in thick red and gold carpets all across the length and breadth of the Everfree State Park. Birds great and small darted through the air and dove into the needly shelter of pines, while squirrels chased one another across the barren limbs. A gust of cold wind from the Equestrian side stirred the bed of leaves, and we walked through a grove enchanted by their graceful play. An hour or so later, Amelia paused in our passage to stare off at a distant glint, holding a hand up to her hair to keep the wind from blowing it into her face.

“The lantern on the way to Mag Mell,” I said and turned my head to look at her.

“Yeah,” she agreed. “Just thinking about the last time I came here.”

“Me, too.” It had been dark, then, and I’d nearly gotten myself killed by running ahead like an idiot. It wasn’t the terrible parts of the journey I thought back on just then, though. “The stars were always so bright here. You could look up at the night sky and see everything. Do you remember that great big moon?”

“Yes, of course. It was the first sign that I’d really hit anything unnatural.” She smiled wanly. “I met the Morgwyn around here. I thought I was so clever.”

“You know, technically, you were so clever you nearly blew the world up,” Lyra reminded her cheerfully, “that’s something, right?”

“Lyra,” Leit Motif said warningly.

“What? It’s really more wisdom that she lacked, or maybe foresight, assuming the two can be clearly distinguished in this—Ow!

While Lyra nursed the bruise Leit Motif gave her, I found myself getting lost in the woods again.

In a time that seemed forever ago, in an Age now passed, I’d walked into this forest and found myself becoming lost in spite of my explicit refusal to do so. Once again, images came to me, bubbling up like a spring to spill out into the world around me. Every knoll, brook, rock, and tree reminded me in some way of the adventures I’d had here. A spunky blonde and her timid dark-coated friend racing to and fro over stone and soil, laughing and playing.

The little girl skidded to a halt in front of me, looking back at the filly struggling to lower herself down a steep dirt slope. “Come on!” she said. “Just jump!”

“I can’t! I’m going to break my neck!” the filly wailed.

“Seriously? It’s, like, an eight foot drop, max!”

“That’s more than sufficient to cause massive bone damage and break my neck!”

“Oh, for the love of—hold on, I’m coming!” little Daphne said, and ran back, for she never walked when she could run. Just as she reached the slope, though, Leit Motif found enough courage to give a meager hop, and the two of them collided and went bouncing and rolling down the path. I met up with them and watched as they extracted one another from the mud. “Leit?” Daphne asked.

“Uh…” Leit Motif lowered her ears. “Yes?”

“Are any of your bones broken?”

“No?”

“Well, they’re gonna be!” Daphne leapt at her friend and they tussled and play-fought with girlish squeals. Spent, they collapsed in a tangle of limbs.

“It’s a good thing I love you, Leit,” Daphne murmured into her friend’s mane.

“Oh, yeah?” Leit Motif asked, her voice soft and uncertain.

“I might have to let you go if I didn’t.”

Just then, I heard five bars, rising and falling notes. At once, the familiar melody dragged me back, and I turned to find the real, flesh-and-blood, nearly adult Leit Motif standing there beside me. “Oh, hey,” she said, “you’re back with us again.” Her eyes drifted down to the muddy pond below, which had been so much dryer on that day. “You know, I get the strangest impression that I was pummeled here.”

“It was a mutual pummeling,” I assured her. “You gave as good as you got.” I nuzzled at her and she rubbed back just as warmly.

“Girls!” Naomi called from a nearby copse of pines. “Get over here!”

The cart had been left in the shelter of one of the trees, and the others had all gathered up by the time Leit and I joined them.

“We’re going to have to change here,” Naomi said and glanced down at a hoof shyly. She buffed it against her coat. “And I was just getting into it.”

“About time,” Marcus said, stretching. He even stretched his wings, as if giving his tail a swish wasn’t ironic enough.

“Can I pass?” Lyra said, twisting her face in disgust. “I’d like to pass. Oh, or maybe turn me into a sleek, elegant Arabian.”

“Hush,” Naomi said, waving her down. “You wanted to come see, that’s what you’re gonna get. Amy, if you’d be so kind?”

The tip of the Wand lit with an incandescent flare. It was with some amount of shock that I realized this was not so far from the place where I’d been shot the first time; if I strained my pony ears, I could hear the stream where I’d fallen, still merrily rushing along. I got out of the way of the coming blast of magic, slipping into my human form as readily as I might a pair of pants, and turned to watch.

The bright magic from the Wand struck each of my friends in turn. The force of it knocked them back, and I watched as they changed. Seeing it from the outside was rather as alarming as being present in it.

Marcus I didn’t witness; as the only stallion, he’d been banished to the log where I’d hidden to change in a modicrum of privacy and a reasonable expectation that he wouldn’t peek. I declined to spy on him magically.

The others all changed far more reluctantly. I watched as their backs bent and their limbs twisted outward. Hooves gave way to fingers, spreading one-by-one from the solid grip. Each of the young women writhed while their necks shortened and torsos shrank, only to mold and blossom in other ways. I laid out the clothes we’d chosen while they recovered.

Ironically enough, Lyra was the first one to stumble over to get dressed. Her teeth chattered and she shivered with goosebumps as she shrugged first into a pair of blue jeans and a white cotton shirt before throwing on a heavy brown coat, all courtesy of Naomi’s supplies and Rarity’s modifications. Her hair remained a shockingly white-green hue and fell around her shoulders, while her eyes stayed a lovely gold; I noted in passing that a golden lyre tattoo had worked onto her back—my own vase of stars was, like Leit Motif’s notes, seared into my thighs. The lyre she slung on her back—I suspect she failed to notice the hilarity of that act—giving her the look of some post-modern bard. “How do you stand not having a coat? This is murder. I am being murdered in the woods by cold.”

“Crybaby. At least you aren’t struggling with hands.” I pouted. “Actually, you are alarmingly good with those fingers.”

“I practice fine hoof dexterity for a living; cut me some slack.” She focused on her saddlebags, then squinted her eyes in deeper concentration when nothing happened. “Oh, come on! My magic’s off, too? What is this, the dark ages?”

“Oh, quit your moaning,” Leit Motif grumbled, shuffling over with her thick, long hair swaying over her form. “I cut myself to pieces climbing that mountain. The most you’ll have to worry about is hitting your head because you’re too tall.” She began to shrug into a dark skirt and black shirt, because no one ever said Leit was creative with anything other than music and souvenir arrangement.

“I don’t know, I think being stripped of my good looks and forced to parade around as some sort of demented monkey-rabbit is pretty moan-worthy.”

“Can I look, now?” Marcus called.

“No!” The three of us shouted back in unison. Naomi was the last up, and somehow her quiet disappointment was more poignant than any of the whining the other two put up. Still, she brightened after giving her hair a few tugs with her brush; that never failed to cheer her up.

Leit Motif had a go at it as well, possessing as much if not more hair than Naomi did and in dire need of taming. She stroked awkwardly at her inky hair as she glanced around. “Where’d Amy go?”

“Right here,” a piping girl’s voice answered, and we turned in time for my heart to leap into my throat.

There, as if nothing had changed, sat my eight year-old baby sister, with her hair in a long braid and her sneakers beating against the wood. Only three things had changed. One was the ineffable sense of her presence; that now-unmistakable sensation that I was present with another person who possessed the grace of our ancestors. The second was that she carried a curiously white pencil that she toyed with in one hand.

Her eyes were the most telling trait, though. They were not the eyes of a young girl, however energetic they were. They belied her youthful form as thoroughly as gray hair might have.

Naomi scooped her up and swung her around at once, holding her close. “Aww, lookit you! You’re bite-sized again!” She pretend-gnawed at my sister, who squealed appreciatively, all of which made me immediately and foolishly jealous.

“Oh, you can come out, now,” Lyra called to Marcus. She flipped her feet into a pair of sandals and gave them a dissatisfied look; of course, they’d been improvised off a pair of Maille’s, so naturally they were far too bulky even with modifications.

“Not that it will do me any good,” Marcus said, striding back down from behind the log. “I’m still a wanted fugitive. You all need to clear my damned name before I step foot in public.”

“Couldn’t we just leave you with a member of your family while we sort it out?” Leit Motif asked uncertainly. “I mean… I would kind of, you know… like to meet your folks. Maybe.”

Naomi shook her head. “Even a family member may feel compelled to report to the police if he showed up. Daphne mentioned that his family had mostly stood by him, but all it takes is one panicked call to make life very difficult. Don’t worry, we’ll take care of it.”

“I owe him that much,” Amy said, dusting herself off.

“As for me,” Naomi said, leading Hector back over to the cart and hitching him in her place. “I really need to get back to the ranch.”

“We could accompany you,” I offered, going to help her with the straps. I gave Hector a pat on the nose and he snuffled at me curiously, perhaps wondering why I smelled like that tiny horse he’d met.

“Nah, it’s fine. That’s almost the opposite direction you need to go, and my family will definitely call the cops and the media and whoever else.”

“Perpendicular, actually, but I get you.” I slid my arms around Naomi and buried my face in her coppery hair. “You… I just want to say, you’re the most incredible person ever.”

“I know.” She rubbed my back and gave me a sisterly peck on the cheek.

“What, no hug and kiss for me?” Marcus complained with his hands in his pockets.

I shared a glance with Naomi and we advanced on him. Before he could flee from the terrible glint in our eyes we seized and tackled him. I planted a kiss on his cheek. “That’s for putting yourself on the line to save me and my sister, you big dumb hero.”

“Okay, okay! Enough already,” he protested, but his arms squeezed the pair of us closely and there was a definite catch in his voice.

Leit Motif and Lyra embraced Naomi then, seeing her off. Then Leit Motif shared a tender hug with Marcus, and Lyra, being who she is, seized him in a bear hug and planted a full kiss right on his mouth. While he recovered from the resulting stun, she grinned. “So, that help rethink your stance on horses at all?”

Lyra! I will kill you!” Leit Motif fumed and reached for her.

Once again, laughter seized me. I moved forward with a similarly mirthful Naomi to separate the two and, eventually, finally, we found ourselves going our separate ways. Naomi’s horse-drawn cart rumbled one way, Marcus sat on a log and contemplated the strange turns his life had taken him, while Leit Motif, Lyra, Amy, and I all started back the way we’d come.

In broad daylight, the trek back was far easier, and I led them over hiking trails back to the gazebo by the hill and stream. I saw an eight year-old, truly young Amelia running across the dirt tracks, hopping down the steps with both feet at a time, and bugging her big sister. The apathetic, nearly soulless look on my old self took me aback, and I reminded myself that I had changed since then, and for the better in many ways. There were people here today, joggers and parents and couples enjoying the last remaining weeks before the snows fell. Unlike ponies, we didn’t keep rigorously to ancient calendars, and one never knew when the weather would turn.

Lyra and Leit Motif watched the passersby with a sort of hungry curiosity about them. I reminded myself that this world, which was so familiar to me, would be utterly alien to the both of them. Lyra boldly walked up to a young man and snagged his smartphone to have a look, before I dragged her back and apologized profusely.

Amy remained silent throughout the trip. Her eyes, too, flicked from one part of the park to the other, wherever she and I had fought that day. We took the route that went all the way around the edge of the park, pushing through tough terrain at times, until we stood in sight of the colonials.

It was at the edge of the woods that she stopped.

“This is as far as I go,” she announced. “I’m not going back.”

“What?” Leit Motif asked, but Lyra, of all people, shushed her and took her aside.

I turned back to face her, standing on the other side of the line that divided the Everfree State Park from the city lines. My heart thundered in my chest. “Amelia…”

“Don’t pretend you don’t know, Daphne,” she said with low bitterness. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“Yeah,” I said quietly, “I do.”

“What is it?” Leit Motif asked, unable to help herself. “What’re you two talking about?”

The wind picked up again as I turned to look at my closest friend. It was the awful hard knot of truth which had followed me since yesterday when I first truly contemplated returning. “What my sister means to say is that we can’t go home.” Behind me, cars turned up the road. Just beyond lay a short road and the homes of the people who lived there, all cheerily unaware of the strangeness which lay beyond their porches. It was just a few steps away, and yet it was worlds apart.

“I don’t… that doesn’t make any sense,” Leit Motif said. “Why’d you come all this way? We’re right next to your home, it’s right over… somewhere!” She waved a hand in the general direction of the buildings.

“Daphne hoped it’d get easier the closer we got, because she’s a sap.” Amy put a hand against her head. “I can’t, Daphne. I can’t face this. Why did you do this when you know where it’s going? I don’t have a home anymore. Look at me. I’m a gods-damned lie. I’m three thousand and eight years-old. I’m the bloody King of Wands. I… after everything I’ve done… I’ve changed too much to belong there. You’ve changed too much.”

She looked up at me, her face now streaming tears. “What am I supposed to do, run back in there and hug Mom and Dad and sit down for a bowl of ice cream and cartoon reruns like nothing ever happened? Do you think I can just go to school; or maybe I should go to college. Oh, right, except if I did that it would be to teach because I already know all the subjects now! I guess Mom and Dad won’t have to fret over teaching me the birds and the bees, at least. That’ll console them with the fact that their youngest daughter is now a fully-grown woman—or horse, if her mood strikes her the wrong way and she’s too depressed to stand being human.” She crossed her arms. “Oh, and let’s not forget that I’m not really a human anymore, am I? I can’t do that, Daphne. I can’t watch my parents die inside while I shrivel up inside knowing what a lie I am.”

“And I am what I am,” I said. “I’m… a lot of things. Amelia, it’s not like that, it’s not… I’m not trying to push a lie. I don’t think we can just walk back in there and pretend nothing happened. There’s no version of this that ends that perfectly. We’re not the same people who left that house.” I exhaled and steadied myself. “In a very short while, I’m going to need to leave. There’s whole worlds out there, and I need to be in them. There’s no home for me here, because it’s just a pit stop. You have to go be King of the Wand Goblins, and you won’t shirk your responsibility any more than I will mine.”

“So what are we doing here, Daph?” she asked brokenly. “Why are you doing this?”

The space between us disappeared as I stepped forward, put my hands on her shoulders, and pulled her close. “Because our story isn’t finished until we do.” I looked up to Leit Motif and met her gaze. “All of us. We have lives ahead of us. We’ve all grown up in ways we… that we couldn’t imagine,” I croaked as I ran a hand over my sister’s hair, “and seen incredible things, and we’ve got new stories to live, but this story isn’t over and there’s no closure for any of us until we go back into that house and finish it.”

The old house, the house of my childhood, the house of my past, glittered painfully like some diamond just out of reach. “We need to tell them the truth. If we don’t, they’re forever denied validation. They’ll never understand that I wasn’t actually insane, they’ll never know what happened to us, and we’ll never be able to get over the fact that we… that our lives were truly destroyed. For the rest of our unnatural lives, we’ll be looking back on this house and wondering what we were missing.” I sighed and held Amy tighter, feeling her arms go about me as well. “We’ll stay for a while. We’ll remember that we loved and are loved. And then, when we feel we can’t stay any longer and that our new stories are tugging on us too tightly…

“We need to say goodbye.”

The wind rustling the leaves was the only sound that disturbed us, there at the edge of the universe. We stood at the terminus of our journey only to find the real one stretched on forever and on. What had began in an outing was ending in permanent absence.

“I want to be held again,” Amy whispered brokenly. “Before it’s too late.”

“Me, too,” I said. I looked up to Leit Motif.

She swallowed and ran a hand through her hair. “I’d be lying if I said I haven’t always dreamed about doing this. It seems like I keep waking up before the dream is done, and then you’re not by my side anymore. I mean… obviously they aren’t my family, but… I’m with you to the end, Daphne. I meant it. I want to finish this bad, I want it to be over so I can get on with my new life. I’m good with going, what about you?”

I nodded and closed my eyes. All around me, the world and everyone on it turned. I felt the pulse in my veins and the waters of creation pouring down through me from above to fill the gap torn by hate. There was life and light and color returning to the worlds and I would be there to guide them.

I am Aurora. I am Aquarius. This is my Age.

Before I knew who I was, though, I was a girl from a small town in Massachusetts who liked birds and rocks and a little horse. All of that uncertainty and trepidation and doubt would linger until I’d closed the book of my old life.

Lyra had taken a seat on an old wooden fence by the time I opened my eyes. She rested her lyre on her lap and smiled. “I see you’ve made up your mind, then. Go on, then. Call me when you’re ready for company. And, hey?”

“Yeah?”

“The thing you’re talking about is called love.” She began to tune the lyre, testing each string by ear and working her fingers deftly. “It comes in a lot of different shapes and sizes, different levels of feeling it, but no matter how old you get or far you roam, you’ll carry their voices in you. Where your folks are may not feel like home right now, but when you think back on it far from now, wandering the worlds and facing the challenges of a strange new era, you’ll remember that warmth and the love you gave one another there.” She played a scale and worked it into the start of a new song. “If that isn’t home, then I don’t know what is.”

Leit Motif reached forward and took my hand in hers. “That sounds all right to me.”

My fingers curled around hers and I looked into her eyes again, green-to-green, soul-to-soul, sister-to-sister.

Amelia took my other hand in her deceptively small one. “Sis?”

I glanced down at her.

“Even if it is just for a short while… take me home, please.”

“Yes,” I agreed. “Let’s all go home.”

Together, with Lyra’s music behind us, we made our way to the back porch. The bitter fact that we would walk out that door sometime in the next few days, weeks or months again and never return remained in the back of our minds. There was a new Age that beckoned us, the Age of Magic that had been so long promised, and we could not linger long.

Regardless of the future, regardless of what may one day come to pass, we were going home, hand-in-hand.

The door opened, and we stepped inside to write the end of our story.

* * * * * * *

THE END

Author's Note:

There it is. It's done. It's really, finally done.
This has just been incredible. One and a half years and 350,000 words we're finally here past the end. I've devoted a good chunk of my personal time and energy to this project, and I'd like to think it shows. Breathing life into a dozen odd original characters and a vast and complicated original setting which ties together existing characters and setting is a heavy task.

Writing Pirene taught me a great deal about writing. I know I've mentioned that in my other stories, but Pirene was a challenge of an even greater magnitude than any of my other projects. This was an undertaking. It's one that simultaneously invigorated and exhausted me – exhausting in a good way, meaning it moved me emotionally and tested my abilities in a way I hadn't experienced in writing before. Before I started Pirene, the idea of doing a novel was simply impossible. Ironically enough, I did finish a different novel (Them) while working on Pirene, but before Pirene I didn't have the discipline or the skill to pull it off.

This story means a great deal to me, and I'll always remember the ride. There's a lot of you faces in the comments I look forward to with each update that I'm going to miss, even when I was sometimes infuriated. Maybe, one day, we'll get a chance to meet and we can share in this experience again in some way.

Perhaps most importantly, though, even though I don't know how much work I'll be able to do on Pirene in the future, I believe that the story continues on. And to that effect...

I'd like to open it up to the field - if you're a fan of Pirene and you want to write a story set in Pirene, drop me a line and I can hook you up with behind-the-scenes setting information and assist with plot and support. Whether it's set in Pirene's past, its future, or concurrent to the original story, you have an idea, I might be able to run with it.

PM me for details if you're interested.

Three Nights in Manehattan - A sequel to the events of this story, following Marcus' own personal journey. A noir adventure.

Group for future Pirene stories.

Don't forget to go check out (and update) the TV Tropes page! It needs more love.

ROLL CREDITS!
GaPJaxie, who helped me conceive of the story in the first place.
Morning Angles, my primary editing punching bag, who had no idea what he was getting himself into.
Solana, for plot and character and backstory assistance and for always being there. She lives it.
Sagebrush, for his occasional edits and selfless promotion.
Bronetheus, metallusionismagic, and jazwiec, for prereading assistance.
Amacita, for early edits and EQD submission aid, and also that interview.
Cold in Gardez, for accepting it into EQD and for his great supportive comments as the story has gone on.
Emily, for being the audiobook narrator and Otto Von Snootingham, for editing the audiobook and providing sound equipment.

And let's not forget a whole slew of people who contributed fanart, or connected me with good people who helped, or who comment every time.

I have other fics! Be sure to check them out:
Perchance to Dream - The past has a way of coming back, no matter how deeply it might be buried. A crime thriller set in Manehattan, based around Babs Seed's family.
Them - When reality changes beneath your hooves, go punch out the forces of fate and destiny. Rainbow Dash's journey through dreams and the very substance of the universe.
A Mile In Her Shoes - What happens when your life is no longer what you thought it would be? Walk with the Mane 6 as they find out what it's like to be another kind of mare.

Comment below, you strange people who actually read this far.

I love y'all. Just like Daphne, Amelia, and Leit, we're going to be saying goodbye, but it's only for the moment.

So there's been a lot of people requesting a followup with the scene meeting the parents and...
Well, honestly, I don't really think that's necessary. There's no further conflict, no mystery, no surprises. You all know what's going to happen, and honestly your imaginations will make it more gratifying and fulfilling than anything I put on the page. The crux, the emotional heart of Pirene, is in those last moments, not in the reunion nor in the point where they pack up and leave for good. I respect this work and you all too much to compromise my artistic vision on how it must end, on how the story demanded it be ended.

Besides, y'all are missing out on something important... who did you think the girls were telling the story to all this time!? :pinkiehappy: