//------------------------------//
// Epilogue 
// Story: Amphorae 
// by Dave Bryant 
//------------------------------//

The glorious early-spring morning burnished a sweeping panorama of the city sprawled across the valley, from the ambitiously high-rise downtown immediately below to the distant orchards and fields of Sweet Apple Acres, blue and hazy where they nestled amidst the woods flung like a rich carpet across the foothills and the edges of the basin’s floor. The faithful old panel van labored along the switchbacks winding up the side of the tall ridge that towered over the skyscrapers, close now to its destination at the crest.
Four female voices rose from the open windows in a merry, if not especially tuneful, round. Rose sounded no better, but really no worse, than the three teenage girls in the back seat. She never had much musical talent or inclination, but today was special. Like everything else about the slowly healing sirens, their singing voices—once dependent on their magic for their superb, beguiling sound—were being rebuilt from scratch. They had a long way to go, but they’d learned a new determination, and any time they faltered in their journey, those around them were ready to help them back to their metaphorical or literal feet. The phlegmatic driver concentrated on his task, and if his brow was furrowed, who was to say whether it was due to the difficulty of the narrow, winding road or of listening to the caterwauling around him?
At last the van made one last turn and emerged onto the expanse of a parking lot beside the buildings clustered on the ridgetop. An observatory dome dominated the complex, but other, smaller domes echoed its lines. The driver had his choice of slots. On a weekday in the off season there usually weren’t many tourists around. He pulled onto a nearby stall and set about shutting down his vehicle with a definite air of relief.
“Here we are, girls!” Rose called as she bounced out of her seat through the open door.
Adagio, Aria, and Sonata all piled out and looked around. They’d never made it up here before, and when the view caught their eyes, they stood and stared. “Wow,” Sonata breathed before taking off for the waist-high concrete safety wall; in her eagerness to take in the view she nearly toppled over it. Noises of mingled amusement and alarm arose from the other three as they followed more sedately.
They stood for several minutes in silence, gazing out over the land. Finally Aria spoke up. “So . . . why are we here?” When Rose looked over at her, she continued a bit defensively, “I mean, this is great and all, but we coulda come up here with Mr. Rhetor and Ms. Harmonia. It’s just you today, Ms. Brass.” She gestured inarticulately.
Rose smiled. “We’re here to meet a few people.” With that she turned around, beckoning the three of them to do the same.
Walking across the lot toward them were three young women. Sunset Shimmer was flanked by a pair who looked like identical twins trying to dress and style differently so people could tell them apart. Even now, the sirens gasped and tensed, sidling closer together—and to Rose, who blinked in mild startlement. “It’s okay, girls,” she reassured them. “Good news, I promise.”
The other trio stopped a few feet away. “Adagio. Aria. Sonata,” Sunset greeted them. “You’re looking . . . good. Really.”
The sirens’ mouths flapped briefly, but finally Adagio managed, “Th-thanks, uh, Sunset. Why are you here?” After a moment, realizing how that sounded, she waved her hands hastily. Thin scars on the undersides of her wrists were clean and already starting to fade, as much as they ever would.
Sunset, Princess Twilight, and Sci-Twi all grinned understandingly. It was a reasonable enough question, even if not exactly politic. “The princess has something for you.” With that, Sunset edged back half a step.
Her Highness pulled a rolled, sealed scroll from a pocket in her jacket and stepped forward, arm outstreched to offer it. “This is for all three of you.”
Adagio reached out and took it, then, with trembling fingers, broke the seal and unrolled it. The other two crowded around to read over her shoulders. As they did, three pairs of eyes widened, and three jaws dropped, comically.
“You’ve been pardoned,” Twilight explained unnecessarily, plainly unable to keep mum any longer. “So now you have a choice, when you’re ready to make it. On which side of the portal will you want to live?”