Interlude: What Terminus Saw
“No,” Terminus moaned as soon as he saw the starry path. As soon as he saw the images of his life, just like Emberglow had described. As soon as he saw her. Tears filled his eyes, and he turned his back on the butter yellow mare with the pink mane. “No!”
“You knew this was coming,” she said gently. Her voice was perfect. Beautiful. Soft and sweet and kind. It made his fur crawl.
“Please don’t,” he whispered. He felt a hoof on his shoulder, and it felt both solid and ethereal at the same time. He tried to ignore the images that floated about him. Images of his empathy. His understanding. There was the time in the reeducation camp, where he went hungry so he could share some food with the sick stallion in the bunk next to his. There was the time he helped a young mare and stallion grieve after he was unable to save their parents from an unjust execution.
Writing the five rules. Teaching them to dozens of ponies who were stumbling their way blindly into a new life.
There were images of all the times he’d stood up to Heartwing, trying to convince Heartwing to relax, to not take so much on himself, to slow down. It was all just pain and hurt and broken, useless effort. Heartwing would never change. He would never forgive himself. He would never fully belong to Terminus.
“I hate you,” he whispered to the mare behind him.
“I know,” she said gently, and he felt her hooves circle around him in a warm embrace. Terminus was shaking, he realized. Quivering with body-wracking sobs. He couldn’t breathe. The fur on his face was matting with the tears that streamed from his eyes.
“I hate you,” he hissed, though he knew, somehow, that she knew it was a lie.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, and he jerked out of her hooves, spinning on her with fury.
“Don’t you dare,” he rasped. “You’re too perfect. How can you be so perfect that I can’t even hate you properly? Don’t you dare apologize for something that’s not even your fault!”
“But you’re upset,” she said. “I-I know it can sometimes be hard to…”
“Stop. Just stop, please.” He was weeping. Shaking and sobbing and completely falling apart. Slowly the mare embraced him again, and this time he didn’t jerk away. He cried, his tears soaking her mane.
“I’m sorry,” she said again. “He’s a fool to not see what he has in front of him. You know why I chose you?”
“No,” he whispered.
“Because you’re worthy,” she whispered back. He shuddered, and she squeezed him tighter. “You always put others before yourself. Especially your beloved.”
“He was yours first,” Terminus gasped.
“But he’s yours now.” She put her hooves on his shoulders, pushing him back so her teal eyes could gaze into his pink ones. “You need to stop living in my shadow, Terminus Flash.”
“This is supposed to make that easier?” he screamed, his voice tinged with panic.
“No. It will make it harder,” she admitted. “But you were never one to shy away from hard things, were you?”
“I…”
“What about when you decided you wouldn’t let them beat you, change the pony you were, back in that camp?”
“But…”
“Or all the time you spend with every single new pony that washes up in Angel’s Rest?”
“Of course, I…”
“Or what you did when you decided Heartwing would be yours to hold, yours to love?”
“… I made it happen,” he breathed.
“Because of all the ponies out there,” she said. “You are the only real choice for this. You’re going to be amazing, Terminus Flash. You’re going to be remembered for centuries, and you’re going to surpass my legacy. Because it’s the pony you are, Terminus. I am so proud of you.”
“I’ll take care of him. I promise.”
“I know you will, Terminus,” she said, and her smile was so bright it could have drowned out the sun. “It’s the pony you are.”