//------------------------------//
// XIV. Epilogue (Part 1) 
// Story: From Skies Above 
// by Sparklight 
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	From Skies Above - Epilogue (Part 1)




Four weeks had passed, and quickly too. After the devastating attack that destroyed the crashed ship, there had been no further sightings of the aliens, and the unnatural presence both sisters felt had disappeared. Celestia pulled another report off her desk.

Almost immediately after the biped’s departure, things had calmed along the borders. According to scouts and other sources of intelligence, the Frostwing clan had seen the weakness in its enemy and seized the opportunity. Already they were on the verge of victory, having quelled most resistance with greater numbers and forced all remaining warriors to withdraw from the south to protect their capital.

Without any immediate threats in the area, the crash site had been reclaimed by Equestria, although anything worth studying had been destroyed, the area only left with scraps of melted metals that once made up the ship’s hull.

Yet where one of her troubles had disappeared, another had risen to take its place. The public was tense, and Celestia felt they were almost at breaking point. The sightings of the airships approaching the castle, thunderous roars and echoing screams of battle were enough to make some citizens panic and attempt to flee the city, and the Guard had been stretched thin keeping the populous under control. That she had been unable to keep the deaths of her guards and the unfortunate photographer away from the public eye had not helped the problem.

Celestia turned her attention to another report. Despite the lack of new items to find, there were still the many that the first teams had recovered: Weapons, items of clothing, and strange machinery and devices whose purposes had yet to be discovered.

In spite all the terrible occurrences, Twilight Sparkle had been more than eager to get to work on researching the alien artefacts. The studious young mare had elected to remain in Canterlot on Celestia’s request to help study the leftover alien equipment. But that wasn’t the only reason she had chosen to remain. Her brother still lay wounded in a hospital bed, undergoing rigorous treatments to restore him to his former health. There wasn't much Twilight could do in her daily visits, but Celestia could guess that the company would be more than welcome.


*


Thump!

The sound resonated through the hall as the gryphons holding the great door shut were shoved back. With a loud slam, they pushed forward once more, grunting and heaving as they braced themselves against the wooden surface, preparing for another strike.

Thump!

Again they were pushed back, and again they leapt forward. Muffled scratches and growls drifted through the door, barely audible under the efforts of the warriors keeping it in place. It creaked and whined in protest of its assault, the crossbar slowly weakening in spite of the gryphon’s efforts.

Although he would prefer to die rather than admit it, Banewin could feel a niggling fear in the back of his mind. Strangely enough, it was not the kind of fear he expected. Rather than the deeper, primal fear for his life driven by his will to survive, it was more calm, like simple stress instead. He suppressed a sigh. His time was up, and it had been a long time coming.

Even then, the sound of battle just outside his door was almost relieving. No longer would he be stuck in a darkened fortress bickering with senile old husks, nor waiting to be butchered by enemies of near incomprehensible power. No, this was a proper fight, not one he could win, he was not that foolish, but one where he could die with honour.

Thump!

But not after taking a few of those bastards with me. He grinned maliciously, glancing down at his new weapon.

It was a shame they could not replicate them. If all his warriors bore such fearsome weapons, even with his severely diminished forces, he had little doubt he could beat back the Frostwings with ease, and maybe even show the Equestrians what for.

But alas, their neighbours had sensed their weakness in wake of the aliens' departure and seized the opportunity.

A loud crack echoed across the chamber, causing the few dozen warriors not holding the door to bring their weapons to bear. Banewin looked up from the weapon. It was almost time.

It didn’t take long to figure out how it worked, the scars inflicted on a wall deep in the fortress could attest to that. Banewin had observed some of the testing himself, as targets were filled with holes under the barrage of projectiles the device spat from its maw.

The grunts and growls outside became louder, and the struggling against the door more intense. If one looked closely, they could see the wood begin to inch inward. With the crossbar broken, it was now a battle of strength as each side pushed forward with all their might, waiting for the other to weaken and give.

Of course, after much testing the weapon had stopped working. At first, the gryphons had been confused, but one hen found that the small metallic cylinders ejected from the side of the weapon were similar to those found inside metal containers found with the weapon. One such container had been attached to the weapon’s body.

After a bit of fiddling, the container had been removed. Sure enough, it was empty. Another was slotted into place and it only took a little more experimentation with the switched and levers on the weapon to prime it to fire. It was truly the most elegant and powerful piece of equipment Banewin had encountered. There was even a switch near the grip that disabled the firing lever to prevent misfires.

A loud roar announced the Frostwings' impending victory as the door began to part. A gryphon could be seen through the gap in the door, eyes glowing with determination and his brothers at his sides.

Staring into the face of death, Banewin grinned. They had no idea what awaited them when the door gave in. He only had one full projectile container, but it would be a surprise nonetheless.

With a final mighty roar the Frostwings pushed forward, sending the defenders reeling back and scrambling aside.

Then came the thunder.


*


Shining Armour let out a frustrated sigh for what felt like the hundredth time today. He lay on his stomach, staring blankly at the polished white wall of his room at the head of his bed, unable to lay on his sides in fear of aggravating his wound.

The projectile from the alien’s weapon had passed through his hindquarters, not even stopping for the bone. Fortunately for Shining, the damaged areas could be pieced back together, and to some extent, small bits could even be regrown. Unfortunately, as advanced as medical care was, the process was long and arduous, requiring huge amounts of energy and skill. Four weeks had gone by already, and it still wasn’t done. And even when it was, his body would need time to recuperate and strengthen itself. It could be months before the guard captain would be walking again, let alone resuming his position.

Weeks, or even months of lying in a bed unable to leave this moon-damned room awaited him, and that was all assuming the bipeds didn’t come back to finish them off. 

There was little activity for him in his current state. Beyond the occasional visits from friends, and the regular checkups by the nurses and doctors, there was only one pony who made sure to be there to brighten up his day: Twilight Sparkle.

Everyday since the fight she would arrive, not always at the same time, but every day. He’d given up insisting that he would be fine, and that she didn’t need to worry about him weeks ago. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy her company, on the contrary, it was practically the most exciting thing he had to look forward to, but the way she worried and fussed over his state and the staff’s activities, often making them double or even triple check their diagnostics.

Along with morale support and the swath of books she brought in with her, she was his main link to the world. She would relay news of world events, progress in her research of the alien’s technology, and even stories and sympathies of her friends, who she remained in constant contact via letters.

Shining sighed. It must be well past noon, and no Twilight. If previous days were anything to go by, that’d mean she’d probably be around by late afternoon. He considered picking up the book on his bedside table, but the will to read just wasn’t there. Reluctantly, he closed his eyes and waited for the warm embrace of sleep.


*


Bodies lay strewn across the hall. Blood-stained blades and other weapons lay still where they had clattered to the floor, and splashes of red painted much of the ground and walls. Amidst the carnage sat a lone gryphon. Blood stained his coat and feathers in crimson streaks and splotches, and his body heaved regularly with every laboured breath. Scattered across the ground around him were tiny metallic cylinders, and beside his form was the mysterious black weapon whose thunder had ruled the halls mere minutes earlier.

Talons clicked against the floor, the sounds clearly audible over the dying battle outside. A gryphon cautiously strode into the room, keeping his eyes fixed on the survivor in the centre, but occasionally darting off to the sides. The warpaint that covered his body marked him as a Frostwing, the icy blue highlights on his feathers were streaked with splashes of blood, some of it his own, but most was not.

“Banewin.” The name rang out across the near silent hall, the only competing sound inside being the haggard breaths of the defender’s leader. The wounded gryphon slowly looked up, meeting the eyes of the Frostwing warrior. His gaze showed no sign of fear, and he even went so far as to smile at the newcomer.

There was a moment of silence as the two gryphons merely stared at one another, one looking into the face of death, and the other into the promise of glory. His end was unavoidable, and fast approaching, that much Banewin knew, so he opened his beak and broke the silence. “Am I going to know... the name of my killer?” his deep, usually firm voice faltered under his pain.

The Frostwing paused for a moment, but soon enough replied. “Garret.”

“Garret.” Banewin repeated, “Well, Garret... you’d better hurry up... I won’t last much longer.”

Garret’s claw rose off the ground, a single talon pointing at the black metal object that lay on the ground nearby. “What is that?” he demanded.

Banewin’s body shook as he chuckled softly, “A sign.”

Garret lowered his head to be level with Banewin’s own. “A sign? A sign of what?” he growled.

“There are things... more fearsome than me.”

A vice like grip closed in on Banewin’s neck, and Garret brought his face in closer. “What things? Speak sense!”

Banewin chuckled again, but was sent into a coughing fit as Garret threw him down. The Frostwing gripped his blade tightly and raised it above his head, reading for the final blow, but he paused when Banewin muttered a few words that were missed by Garret’s ears.

“What?” he barked.

Banewin looked up, meeting his eyes. Garret could feel his enemy’s gaze boring into his heart. His own searched Banewin’s eyes, but he still saw no sign of fear, only acceptance and... pity?

“You’ll see.” Banewin said, his voice barely more than a whisper, as Garret scowled at him and his sword began its downward stroke. “You’ll see.”