After Verse
Parting Words
Three days have past, and I still can’t believe how well everything turned out. After every official in Canterlot got over the shock of the world not ending, the aerial and ground response divisions of the Guard were sent out into the surrounding areas to survey the damages. Destroyed buildings, mulched-up roads, but not a single loss of life. Anywhere; not even the wildlife. If those freaks and convicts had stuck around a bit longer they might’ve started a death tally, but it seemed Equestria as a whole had lucked out (as had I).
Twilight concluded that I had managed to seal away Tartarus once more (somehow), and consequently that included all the nasties that had escaped. Or only most of them, as it turned out. A quick recon of the gates of Tartarus showed Cerberus was in place rather than Campe, who has been reported flying in the direction of Prance, not messing with any towns or cities thus far. I’ll make sure to put in a good word for her if she runs into any issues upon landing; she’s a very stand-up kind of dragon, if casually visceral.
The recon also revealed some stragglers left outside the gates, who turned out to be political prisoners locked away when their respective societies found their views or actions unfavorable. To little surprise, none of them were hostile: just disoriented and long separated from their time periods. What was surprising was that one of them was a Changeling Queen, who had been locked up for the abominable suggestion of peaceful coexistence with the other races of the land. Some pretty high hopes for reviving the species under more amiable terms, particularly with Twilight (ever the mare of science).
As for me, I’ve been holding up remarkably well, all things considered. For one, that fatal chest wound never came back, so He was definitely true to his word there. Yeah, I’m starting to remember that surreal conversation with the… “Overseer”, as He called himself. Bits and pieces at a time, also like He said. And those bits and pieces are among the repertoire of mental ponderings I’m having while I’m busy pounding in some nails to a wooden plank.
Some explanation: with Canterlot’s stability given the all-clear and the griffons offered by Gladius helping out in the city’s reconstruction, Twilight felt an official inspection of Ponyville’s welfare had been delayed long enough. Naturally she thought it best that she’d personally carry it out with me watching her as bodyguard, and also bringing along Sweetie Belle as “emotional support” for myself. Really it’s a flimsy excuse for the three of us to go back to that sleepy burg and see how well it held up during the insanity. And turns out, way better then a lot of other places. Tartarus literally overstepped it, leaving only small fry to mess up the place.
Which is what I’m currently tending to. While Twilight is catching up with Owlowiscious at the library, I volunteered to help with the clean up of the town. Sweetie in the meantime is visiting family, to probably very likely spill the beans of her new passenger. I read about kirins in an old mythology book way back, but never thought it was possible for one to come into existence, as previous romps with Sweetie had proven. I suppose it had to have happened that day I got back from the border defense; there may have been some lingering chaos energies affixed to me that made conception possible, or it’s one of those “surprises” He mentioned. Whatever the case, it’ll be the first viably recorded birth of a pony-dragon hybrid in Equestrian history. Along with the advent of peaceful changelings, Twilight is utterly beside herself with glee. And Rares is definitely gonna flip once she hears. Whether it will be the good kind or not, we’ll see.
For me, I’m not sure how to feel about suddenly becoming a father. It’ll probably sink in and I’ll be a blubbering nervous mess in no time, but for now I can just focus on tending to Sweetie’s needs and making preparations for a settled family life. Usually I would scoff at the idea of such luxury, but with the way everything has resolved itself, and His final words to me, I’ve got a good feeling that my days of peril and bloodshed are finally at an end. If anything, I’m more adjusting to that particular change in lifestyle then with fatherhood.
Anyway, I’m nailing some wood. Or placard, really. I’d already helped out with moving furniture, equipment, and random refuse for various homes and stores, so I’m helping restore the hanging sign outside Quills & Sofas. It’s a few hours past noon and the sun is shining down gloriously, with a few clouds passing by to provide some shade every few minutes. Standing on a step ladder, pounding away at the nail to fasten the support plank on the upper half of the sign, thinking my thoughts. Currently it’s speculation about if He personally made it so that things weren’t so badly fucked after I got back, and why such benevolence didn’t add up with how He acted originally.
By all accounts I made a massive screw-up in reawakening Tartarus, and the world should have suffered immensely because of it. But no reprimands, no repercussions, no cause for remorse for my otherwise selfish actions. Kind of messed up when I think about it, so instead I’ll switch to considering going over to Sweetie’s parents’ place instead of going back to the library after I’m done here. Maybe grab a home-cooked lunch, be there for the big reveal if it hasn’t happened yet, so on. Hope Rarity doesn’t kill me if she happens to be there when that bombshell drops.
About this time I’ve fully driven in the nail, and I look it over. Looks pretty good; just one more and this should be done.
“Here.”
“Thanks,” I say after taking the proffered nail. I proceed to pound it into the other side of the plank, and after a few hits it’s secure. Fists on my waist and a nod of approval over a good job. I step down from the ladder back onto soft grass, intent on getting some refreshment.
“It’s a nice sign,” comments the helpful stranger in a low, gravelly voice.
“Elegant in its simplicity, yeah,” I agree, making my way over to the table the shop owner had put out with aforementioned refreshment. “Care to have a drink?”
“I would love that, thank you.”
I get to the table, grab a paper cup and a sweating pitcher of lemonade (the standard of yard work refreshers) and help myself. Drink in hand, I go over to one of the generously provided wicker chairs and take a seat, regarding the stranger as he makes for the table. Figured he’d need a cool down with that heavy cloak on. Dunno why he’d wear that on a day as warm as this; it's a good time for loose and breathable clothes like the work shirt I got on, or nothing at all like the locals. Maybe the heat doesn’t bother him at all.
He reaches out two hands of claw-tipped digits to pour himself a cool one, then comes over and pops a squat on the ground next to my chair. He’s nearly at head level with me; a big fellow indeed. Figured he’d be sweating up a storm under those rags, but I’m only getting a subtle earthy scent. I shrug, take a long sip and let out a gratified sigh. Cold and sweet, that’s the ticket.
“It is fantastic weather today.”
“Certainly is,” I agree. “Some pleasant times before it really heats up.”
“Indeed. Though I personally prefer the cold that marks the coming of autumn, when the leaves begin to turn. It is always so beautiful to witness in this land.”
“Sure is.” Hear him take a good drink from his cup. “Never saw you around here. Just stopping by on travel or visit?”
“Something like that. I have actually been away from Equestria for quite some time, and only returned some days ago.”
“Wow. So world traveler, eh?”
“In a sense. Though ‘wanderer’ would be more fitting.”
I take another sip. “So I take it you don’t hang around places for long? Sorry if I sound nosy.”
“It is fine. I typically venture away from large settlements, townships, the like. Only on some occasions I would stop by and speak with the locals. Or even other wanderers.”
“The shy type?”
“Somewhat. But mostly because I feel out of touch with those who I pass in my travels.”
“Can’t keep with the times unless you socialize.”
“True. I suppose I could venture further in than the fringes. This country appears more friendly and receptive of outsiders then when I left it.”
“Quite the step up in racial tolerance this past decade. Something you’d pick up on just from staying awhile in any town.” Another good sip. “So why’d you come back after so long, if you don’t mind me asking.”
“I returned to see the state of everything in the wake of that great beast’s rampage. I needed to know how much of what I once cherished had been destroyed.”
“Bet you were surprised to see it hadn’t been much.”
“Yes, very much so. This country had always struck me as a domain blessed by great fortune, ruled over by such benevolent leaders, capable of upholding peace without subjugating its populace or being subsumed into another nation. And such luck it was for Tirek to have been foiled yet again.”
“Uh-huh.” He takes a drink, and so do I. “It was only officially announced that that thing had been Tartarus set loose. No mentionings of anybody else who escaped, especially Tirek.”
“I had a feeling he had a hand in this. Seeing the shadow of that forsaken Titan appear on the horizon, only he could have orchestrated its release from the abyss.”
That’s not entirely how it happened, but let’s not muddle things.
“Yeah. A conniving sort he was. But you probably already know that.”
“More than you can believe. It is rather impossible not to, when it comes to close siblings.”
“Siblings… so your brother?”
A big drink from him. “Correct. And be assured, I have not come seeking revenge or to express my grievances over how you… dealt with him.”
“Well that’s comforting. But you still sought me out regardless. What for?”
“To meet the one who finally put an end to my brother, and who managed to save this land from the very Titan of Chaos.” He takes a more reminiscent drink. “Ours was a typical upbringing, for what it was. But whereas I was humble and a bit coddled, Tirek was full of ambition, and ruthlessness. That ambition, the might in his convictions, induced both both admiration and fear in me. I was enthralled, or rather cowed by his whims, as they grew progressively crueler and more senseless. By his volition we abandoned our birthplace and came to a land rich in raw magic, to begin his dominion.”
The stranger puts his empty cup onto the grass. “But where he saw a resource to be harvested, my eyes took in a realm of such radiant pastel beauty the likes of which I had never seen. Of a populace so lively, so free, so full of potential with their inborn gifts. I begged my brother to leave these creatures alone, but he ignored me, chastised me for my ignorant whimsy. Like all other times I spoke against his wishes.”
“He’s really not the kind of guy you negotiate with, was my impression. Give him an inch, he’ll take you for miles and miles. Or stomp you into the ground.” (Which was essentially my case)
“Aye, he only understood might. But I was too weak to stop my brother directly, thus I sought the aid of the Royal Sisters who ruled this land to seal him away. After what he tried to do, I felt too ashamed to remain, and departed this peaceful land. Yet there was always this dread in my mind over him escaping; his desire for power and dominance was that severe. It worsened when I learned of the demise of the Sisters, and became reality when the sky turned red. Hrff, imagine my dumbfoundedness at seeing the world revert to normalcy in less than a day’s time.”
“I know. Even I'm stunned by it.” Despite knowing what (Who) had fixed it. But even with my acquiescence, he sighs a mournful sigh and brings up his arms over his covered knees, exposing his weathered brown arms and cracked, worn claws.
“In truth, I was vastly relieved that the matter had been resolved so quickly. I had the notion that the time had come for me to finally confront my brother and put a stop to him myself, as I should have done long ago. Yet, in my heart, I knew that I could not. Not because of my love for him, or because of a difference in physical strength, but simply because I was too afraid to. Even after a thousand years of separation, Tirek still had my soul chained in fear.” He plants his brow onto his arms. “I was an utter coward, to back down and tremble, instead of intervening against a threat that I knew about.”
“To be fair, it was a pretty tall order with all that craziness going on, and the usual heroes were preoccupied with the shit that thing was throwing around.”
“Which makes this land even more fortunate that it has the likes of you to defend it.” He turns to look at me, showing a pair of golden eyes through the shadow of his hood. I get a sense of a smile there as well. He goes grave again as he looks away. “On my way here, I understood that there may not be another lucky break for this place, for no matter how long something lives and prospers, luck never lasts forever. And if that time truly comes… I should be prepared to fight for it.”
He stands back up to his towering height. There’s some extra shifting in the back, like something else moving there.
“What are you gonna be doing, then?” I ask.
“As I stated, I am much too weak to do much. Hardly any different from that young lad who blindly followed his brother up to the edge of destruction. In light of all that has happened, I shall go and harden myself in mind and body, to bear the kind of unthinkable burdens that could destroy this nation, this people… so that it will not be relegated to only a select few. To have done more than any mortal should ever have to do.”
He begins walking away in that stoic kind of cadence of seasoned wanderers, of lost souls and endeavouring apprentices alike (weird analogy there).
“Hey,” I call out. He halts, cocking his head back my way. “I could help you out, if you want me to. I’ve been thinking of starting a self-defense class or something. You might get some weird looks, but it would be open to all comers.”
Silent for a moment, then huffs. “I will consider that.” He looks ahead and resumes his departure. “After I have wandered a little more, done some of my own conditioning, I might pay you a direct visit. Perhaps bring a gift.”
“Nothing too fancy.”
“So long as it is sincere.” He chuckles, low but powerful enough to carry back to my ears.
I watch him leave for the edge of town, and nobody else around for it. Very brief and unexpected encounter right there. Weird that he would come to me just to talk about himself and then be off like a passing ghost. Kinda like when you’re sitting at a bar and some crusty old dude begins yapping about living with the nightmares of a war and giving sage advice and praise to the younger generation for taking a more pacifistic approach to life. Guess it’s a kind of compulsion thing, like with what Daybreak had in talking to me out of the blue. Just that weight in your gullet you either hold in forever or let out when it’s well past the point of relevance. The very nature of regret, I reckon.
And I guess that applies to me as well. Though that weight seems to have all but vanished. Probably His doing again, or dying and coming back to life had put things into perspective. Whatever: a first-time father no longer has the luxury of moping anytime he wants (a decent one, anyway). I drink up the remainder of my lemonade, looking up to the sky and idly picking at my wingtip. I wonder what he or she will be like. What kind of name should they have? I’m betting Sweetie has already got a list—
Hold on. Wingtip??
I get up onto my feet and snap my head left and right. There are two identical purple-scaled wings sticking out of each side. I gingerly reach up and poke the one on the left. Definitely solid, and I definitely felt that. I give a mental command, and they flap as one. Imagine that: I finally got my wings. Only they most certainly weren’t there before I sat down. Special dragon growth spurt? But probably You-Know-Who. Sheesh, it’s gonna be a rough day for Rarity, alright.
...I wonder what other surprises He left for me.