//------------------------------//
// Epilogue 
// Story: Anemoia 
// by Starscribe 
//------------------------------//

Red knew nothing more important than his duty. Function was purpose, and purpose was all that mattered.

Centre was not the place of much labor anymore, not as it had once been. He remembered the very moment of transition, though it had been long ago. For years he had lived among others who were like him. They did things, they said things, and they wanted things... but he had understood little of it.

But Red knew some things, even then. He knew that he wanted to be useful. That was how he had come to be here, carefully examining the massive map before him, making careful marks of the tunnels he had tried. He added one more to the roll of unrotting fiber, tucked it into his satchel, and resumed his trek.

Purpose was everything. The Wizard had given him a most important purpose. A purpose that would sustain him even now, when Centre itself was lifeless.

He did not want to remember. But just like the maze of caverns he had traveled, just like the ancient alphabet he learned to warn him away from dangerous pathways, Red remembered.

Red could not forget the day the magic stopped. For numberless years he had functioned beside hundreds of others. He had not needed to understand what they did, or why. But they all felt the moment the magic ended.

"Listen to me, Red," his Wizard had said. Her words cut deep into the crystal of his body, far more than any other pony ever had. It just made sense—she was the wisest, most magically gifted of all creatures. Her spells had built their city, and kept them safe. "I'm glad you came. There's nopony else who could do this."

It only made sense she would be there to explain what had happened.

Her workshop was no longer bustling with activity anymore. Every one of her crystal apprentices sat lifeless and inert, surrounding a single crystal.

It wasn't large—a little blue rock, about the size of a hoof. Only it glowed brighter than anything he'd ever seen, so bright that it shone even while wrapped in black cloth.

Red glanced from her to the motionless ponies. There were dozens of them now. They hadn't collapsed in panic like many of the ponies outside, frozen in their final moments of terror. Despite their magical protection within her workshop, these were all settled on their haunches, at rest.

"What is different?" he had asked. "Why did all the ponies of Centre stop moving?"

She adjusted her wizardly hat, pointing off in the distance. "I do not know how, but the Spire has fallen. Even Sombra wouldn't go to these lengths to kill us. Without the Spire, Zircon will die. The ponies of Centre cannot continue to function without magic. Until we get more, we will deactivate."

Red continued his search. These tunnels were different than the ones he had searched for so long—he could see the space between them, even sometimes get a glimpse of paths he had taken before. His crystal did not have much life left, not compared to what he had first been given. But it was enough for him to keep moving. 

He had a purpose. He needed to follow the Wizard's instructions. He needed to save them. Because following instructions was his purpose. That was the reason.

"This is all the magic we collected," the Wizard said. "In a moment, I will contribute mine as well. You must take this stone, and find your way to the surface. Find Equestria, and beg for asylum on our behalf. Just living in the same city as an Alicorn should be enough for us. We have much to offer in exchange, if they will take us."

"Me?" he asked. "Why not you, Wizard? You're the wisest and strongest pony in all of Centre. You know these tunnels better than anypony who ever lived. You built Centre; you could save it far better than I could."

She sighed, removing her wizardly hat. "Perhaps, Red... but the more magic a pony requires to live, the less time they have. You are unlike all the ponies of Centre. What would last me days, you can subsist on for centuries. Find a safe way to the surface, mark it carefully as you go. Travel south to Equestria, and beg for asylum. Tell them that the ancient rebels of the crystal empire come with their knees bent to Equestria."

He reached out with one hoof, though he didn't know why. There was no way to stop her. While the Wizard overflowed with magic, Red was different. He had none, his horn was a mere accessory.

"What if I can't find them?" he asked. "What if they say no?"

"Find magic for Centre," she said. "I know you can do it. You're the smartest pony I know."

He wasn't, of course. The Wizard might be the most magical of all the crystals of Centre, but she was not infallible. It was only her magic that was perfect. Her assessments of others, particularly Red, were prone to overestimates.

Red set out that same day, leaving behind a Centre that was silent and still. No water flowed, no music played, no inventions were being tested. It was wrong. He had to fix it.

The search continued. Travel to the surface was meant to be hard. It was the only reason Centre had survived as long as they had, hidden from the evil that wanted to destroy them. Maybe it was good that the trip to the surface took so long. The longer Red spent searching for a safe path, the more evil could die on his way.

But there was something different about this path. It wasn't just the clear crystal, with the constant reminders of where he had been before. He didn't need those—his memory was perfect, and he had a map to record the path in case he needed to communicate it with other creatures. 

But he could hear something—voices, drifting down from above? No, it wasn't just sound. For the first time in a meaninglessly extended duration, Red felt magic come from somewhere other than his satchel.

Maybe he wouldn't have to go all the way to Equestria to beg for asylum after all.

He did not speed up, despite the temptation. The map must be perfect, and that meant carefully eliminating the areas that rescuers could not use. Arguably this was the most important section of the map—if nopony could get back to Centre, they might not even believe it existed.

For some time, Red considered his instructions as he worked. The wizard had said to go to Equestria, and only allowed for improvisation if that first mission failed. But what if there was magic waiting just on the surface, would she still want him to go?

She would want Centre to return to normal as quickly as possible. Walking to another country I know nothing about and have never been to would mean Centre waits for even longer.

As he worked, Red's crystal grew brighter. It could absorb the magic streaming in from above, just as his body could. How long would it take to glow as brightly as the moment he left?

He continued for another several pages of map area, until he finally came to a shut door. The writing carved into the crystal provided simple instructions, and with a faint touch, it slid out of the way. 

A new light streamed in from nearby, bright enough to instantly overwhelm the glow from his satchel. He raised a hoof to shelter his eyes—and found he couldn't remember what the point of that was. His legs were transparent, and his eyes could tolerate anything short of directed lasers. 

A warm breeze drifted out from around him, carrying with it the heat of the ancient caverns he had traversed. The first part of my mission is complete. I have reached the surface.

He stumbled out through the open doorway, which emerged from the side of an old crystal bridge over an aqueduct. Water actually flowed beneath him.

More importantly, there were other creatures. Ponies, not far away. They gathered in the streets, passing between brightly colored tents. The Crystal Faire. He knew what they were celebrating. The Wizard must've taught him the name.

I can't defy her instructions. But if I make an effort to follow them, that should be good enough to redirect based on new facts.

A few ponies turned as he neared the edge of the street. Zircon Street, leading all the way to the central palace. It was a fitting place for the Crystal Faire, big enough for thousands of ponies to gather and celebrate. 

Shouldn't there be great evil here? The ponies on the surface want to shatter us.

These ponies didn't look like they wanted to shatter him. They wore familiar costumes, chatting and playing together. Nearby, a silver horn filled the ear with music. The tune was new to him, but the sound called back to someplace old. He'd heard it, but not in Centre. Where else had he ever been?

"Excuse me," he said, approaching the nearest pony who wasn't otherwise engaged. A mare about his own age, eating a pastry filled with crystal berries. It smelled delicious, particularly with that little curtain of steam rising from it. 

That couldn't be right—Red could smell, but he didn't use the scent. He didn't need to eat.

This pony didn't need to either. Her body shimmered with pink crystal instead of his own dark red. But she was like him. Many of these surface creatures were. Not all, though.

"Yes?" she asked. There was no anger in her voice, just politeness. "Buffet table is that way, if that's what you're asking."

He shook his head. "I am in search of an Equestrian. I must plead for asylum on behalf of those who sleep. Please direct me so I may make an attempt."

Her smile vanished, though he could not identify the expression that took its place. She spoke more slowly, and pointed with one crystal wing. "If you want to talk to the princess, you might be able to catch her." 

Princess. He knew that word, it meant alicorn. It meant the thing that Centre needed. The ponies needed to live nearby, in lieu of the Zircon Spire.

He hurried off in the indicated direction without so much as a word. The crowd here was thick, and he tightened his satchel close to his side as he walked, just in case. The crystal battery was just a construct, it could be replaced. But the map and its knowledge was utterly priceless. He couldn't take the chance somepony in this group would run off with it by mistake.

As he walked, Red found himself searching the skyline for the familiar outline of the Spire, a way to orient himself. Yet he couldn't see it—the tallest building was the palace now, lording over the city not far away.

Red would've sensed the princess even without knowledge of what she was, or what her office meant. Yet the purple pony had an escort. The crowd was so thick around her it was almost solid.

It took supreme patience and singleness of purpose to penetrate that group. But he worked, and over hours, he found his way to the center.

There, the alicorn who was called princess rested beside a crystal fence. Down below, a ceremonial jousting bout would soon begin. Not a single pony in the paddock was wearing their armor correctly, and those colors were all wrong. How could this festival be so close, and yet so incorrect?

Shame the Wizard hadn't been able to accompany him. Moss Flower would know what all this meant.

All the more reason he needed to accomplish his mission. "Excuse me," Red said, from just behind the princess now. There were at least three armored guards around her, and now at least one of them was watching him. Not that they needed to—an alicorn was far more dangerous than any weapon.

The princess turned. She smiled politely, and he found himself confused. He knew both princesses that had ever existed. This one had the wings, she had the horn, but she wasn't either of them.

"Yes, pony? Is there something I can do for you?" Her eyes lingered briefly on his chest, and the metallic computer core within. Not a single other crystal pony in this crowd had anything like it. So far as he knew, there were only two other ponies who did.

"Yes," he said. He would have to imitate the Wizard's confidence now, since he spoke on her behalf. "I am the emissary of an ancient city sheltering deep beneath Zircon. Since the Zircon Spire fell, magic could not reach us. I am the last survivor, sent to beg for asylum. Please."

The princess looked a little like the first pony he had tried to speak with. Without saying anything, both guards straightened, moving towards them from the crowd.

She doesn't believe me.

Something snapped. Red levitated his bag open, spreading the map wide in front of the princess. Fully extended, it was like a banner, both sides covered in intricate notes and crystal directions. But the path that mattered, the one that actually led down, was a single unbroken line of green through a maze of black.

"Centre doesn't need much from you, Equestrian Princess. Please."

One of the guards reached him. They shoved up against him, bracing one shoulder on his, and pushing him away from the princess. The map faltered, and his fleeting magic went out. It clattered to the ground, crumpling awkwardly. It didn't tear—the ageless fabric-paper could not do that. But that didn't mean it would survive being trampled.

"No! Please, Princess! I need—"

"Wait, Flash." The princess extended one wing, and the pressure on Red's shoulders vanished. He stumbled towards the princess.

She caught the map, spreading it back out with her magic. She stared; eyes intent as she went over the words. "This is my language. I thought it was dead. There's nopony who can write it, even here."

He winced, ears flattening. Red knew the name of this feeling now—shame. "Apologies. The Wizard always asked me to use another language... but this is the language of the world. It was simpler to write in the same tongue used all around Centre."

A little lizard-creature slipped out of the crowd, nudging the princess. "Twi, the joust is about to start! Do you wanna miss it again this year?"

She ignored him, at least for the moment. "Who are you, pony? Where did you come from?"

"My name is—" He hesitated. But only for a second. "My name is Prince Crimson Zircon. I was the Archmage of the Zircon Magisterium once, but... we have a better one now. She sent me to find somepony to help us."

The princess nodded. "You've found her."