//------------------------------// // Epilogue // Story: The Gilderoy Expedition // by PaulAsaran //------------------------------// In one dragging step, she was in shoulder-deep snow, barely able to push against its heavy weight. In the next, she tumbled across fresh, green grass and blessed, Celestia-gifted warmth. The ponies who saw her inglorious arrival across the magical dome protecting the Crystal City thought her a necromantic skeleton, so emaciated was her form. But as she stood up on quaking legs, lungs heaving from weakness and effort, they spotted a mess of brown and green mane and an unusual, pronged horn, and they knew her to be that rare race of pony: the kirin. Almost immediately, Sparkling Jewel sent her husband to get help while she trotted forward to assist the poor stranger. The kirin trembled like a leaf, barely able to support her own weight, and so Jewel wrapped a foreleg around the mare and guided her, carefully, to the picnic blanket. She felt so frail that it seemed even that faint effort might shatter her into a million pieces, and so cold she was painful to touch. One of her rear legs was black with frostbite, forcing the kirin to hobble awkwardly. What was this young mare doing out in the frozen lands beyond the barrier? How long had she been out there? By Cadance’s love, how did she survive? Jewel gave the mare some fresh, warm tea, which was greedily sucked down. This, at last, was enough to give her lips the ability to mutter quiet words. Jewel had to strain her ears to hear anything, and most of it was in the language of the far east and beyond her, but every now and then she’d hear words she recognized: “friends”, “storm”, “lost”, and easily the most alarming: “monsters”. “You’re okay, dumpling.” Jewel kept pressed to the kirin’s side, just for the sake of giving her some much-needed body heat. “Everything’s gonna be okay. We’ll get you some help and you can tell us all about it.” She kept glancing towards the city in the distance, wondering how long her husband would be. Word spread quickly. Soldiers in shining crystal armor arrived. They queried Jewel and the other witnesses, but they had nothing to add beyond the simple fact that a random kirin had somehow defeated the blizzard. Medical ponies came along and checked over the kirin’s entire body. Frostbite in multiple locations, dehydration, starvation, and minor injuries. Most were easy, though not quick, to be remedied with proper care. Save for the hind leg. That would have to go. The kirin was in a terrible state. She lay in her hospital bed, staring with wide eyes at the ceiling. Sometimes she mumbled to herself. Other times she was deathly silent and still, so much so that passing nurses felt the urge to check her pulse. Soldiers and investigators tried to question her. She did not seem aware of their existence. Then, as the sun kissed the distant horizon, the kirin received a special visitor. A royal one. When Princess Cadance walked into the room, the bedbound mare at last stirred. In her own language, strange beyond the comprehension of the guards and nurses, she asked, “Are alicorns gods?” And Princess Cadance replied, in the same flowing language, “We are not.” She stared down at the kirin with such great sympathy and concern. “Whyever would you ask?” The kirin swallowed, her eyes wide and wild, but her voice quiet. “I believe I have encountered a god.” The princess pondered this reply, curious and uncertain. “What is your name?” The bedbound equine heaved a long breath. And another. She seemed uncertain. “Eastern Leaves.” A shift of hooves. Eyebrows rose. Cadance glanced at one of her guards, but reminded herself that they would not know the language. “Eastern Leaves. You were part of Lord Margrave Gilderoy’s expedition, were you not?” Eastern Leaves gazed up at the alicorn, shocked speechless. At last, she gave a faint nod. Cadance nodded in turn. “Are there other survivors?” Tears welled in the kirin’s eyes, hot things that threatened to break what little control she possessed. “I-I don’t know.” Closing her eyes, Cadance heaved a long sigh. But she did not despair. There was always hope. “Do not worry, my friend. You are alive, and we will find others. For now, you should get some rest.” The kirin’s ears, the extremities clipped where the frostbitten parts had been removed, perked. She attempted to sit up, but her meager strength was not up for such an act. When she spoke, it was in a hushed, trembling tone. “You would go out there?” Curiously, Cadance tilted her head. “We must at least try to find your friends.” “No!” It was an attempt at a shout, but it came out dry and feeble. The kirin shook her head and pawed at the alicorn’s pink shoulder. “No. Don’t go. Let it sleep. Let it sleep! Mwnglui ot shogg. Don’t go.” Cadance stepped back, alarmed at the outburst, though she kept her guards back with a raised wing. “But what of your friends?” “Mwnglui ot shogg. It sleeps. It sleeps again. Let it sleep! Don’t go, don’t awaken it, it will kill us all. Don’t go! Mwnglui ot shogg!” Soon Eastern Leaves was naught but sobs and broken syllables, huddled tightly beneath her covers and trembling. But her eyes remained locked on Cadance, gaping and unseeing and, perhaps, mad with fear. Cadance chose to leave. What else might she have done? She certainly wasn’t about to reveal that two more airships were out there even now, hours away from reaching the Matti Ths Aioniotitas.