//------------------------------// // Epilogue // Story: Incepto Ne Desistam // by MAGO5 //------------------------------// Celestia was tired. Oh so very tired. Nearly a year had passed since... the incident. The heated battle that nearly cost her life and the life of her sister. A confrontation built upon misspoken words and stubborn pride. Forged by her impulsive failings and tempered with her gnawing secrets. Not a day goes by without reminding herself just how much pain and suffering she had ultimately caused. It made sense at first. He was a being devoted to the pursuit of violence and death. This outsider came to her and straight-up demanded some of the most powerful magical artifacts of her era to be candidly handed to him for nothing in return. He boasted of his power and the power of the “Council” blatantly, as if he alone could twist Fate to his pleasure. He threatened her, the most powerful being in Equestria, its sovereign, unless what he stipulated was given to him immediately. She knew exactly what he was. What sort of person he was. She had a list of names to call him by, none of which were very flattering or attractive. Why should she have given him anything? What use would it have been to talk him out of it? To explain to him why the Elements of Harmony were not the power he sought? Would he have listened? Would he have cared? Would he, upon being shown the Elements, despite them not being adequate enough for his purpose, have taken them anyway? Perhaps out of spite? Without those artifacts, her kingdom would fall. Chaos would take hold. Wars would be had. Ponies would die. Peace and happiness would no longer be a possibility. She couldn’t have that. Even if her prediction of his reaction wasn't true, what sort of ruler would she appear as if she gave into him? To reward his arrogance and bullying and cave in to fear? Yet, she remembered quite clearly, she did not even make an effort to negotiate. On top of that, she had struck the first blow, tolling the start of a day filled with pain, misery, and bedlam. What has she done? What went through her mind at the time? If it was arrogance, than she was no better than the nephilim. She was no better than the very ideals she abhorred. The princess sighed for what seemed like the thousandth time that day as she pondered this. She looked around from her seat at the end of the long hall, taking in the sight of brand-new columns and tiling. They were quite obvious to one who knew where to look. The throne room, as well as the rest of the castle, had been reconstructed over the long months following the aftermath. An aftermath that was, possibly, worse than the event itself. Fear and confusion ran rampant throughout the city. When that wasn’t enough, the news managed to bleed into the farthest reaches of her borders. Nearly every pony with even a smidgen of political power from Las Pegasus to Stalliongrad tramped their way to the capital and assaulted her with a lifetime’s worth of questions, demanding answers, not unlike the biped who had nearly killed her just days ago. Even common citizens did their part and furiously scribbled to her letter after letter after letter after letter. Still recovering from a broken leg and countless other ailments, she was buried with parchment for the better of two months. Her sister was of no assistance, being in an even worse condition than herself. In addition, parts of Canterlot were in shambles due to their brawl. Celestia had to go so far as to declare martial law to keep things in order as repairs went underway, a decision that was not looked upon kindly by her nobles. Celestia scowled. It was as if they completely forgot what happened. It was like neither of the princesses were forced to the brink of death (in her case, over said brink) and things were just business as usual. Death and taxes, as they say. Just add “Nobles’ blatant disregard/ignorance of everything and everypony but themselves” to that, and it’ll be that much more true. While she was on the subject, she thought her decline in popularity with her sovereignly subordinates that can be attributed to other, less justifiable things, such as her new hairstyle. She ran a hoof through the short, slightly curly strands of her multi-colored mane. The acquisition of this... “trim” may have been unwarranted, but she did not mind in the least. In fact, she enjoyed the change in pace. It may have been the only good thing to come from the whole ordeal. “Well...” She lightly touched her hoof to her lips, recalling... Suddenly, she blanched. “Yes, the only good thing indeed.” Even after she had ended the state of martial law, she kept a large presence of guards at the ready to ease the fear of the public. After five long months of endless work and harrowing political affairs, she had successfully brought her kingdom to some semblance of normality. Almost. For the parties involved in the conflict between her and Death, it was a different story. First was Luna, her dear sister. Only a mere month ago had she finally recovered enough to walk. More of a pitiful hobble, in Celestia’s eyes. It struck her heart painfully, like a dagger made of ice. She told her sister of what happened, how the nephilim killed her, brought her back to life, and just left. She didn’t know how to take it. Though the thought of forgiving him for what he had done was almost out of the question, she couldn’t deny that she could have easily died by his hands, yet he spared both of them. It was evident that his motives were not as simple as theirs. Luna mulled it over in her bed for the next few week before stating that she would no longer talk about it, and that was the end of that. Shining Armor, her loyal captain. He had... taken a leave of duty. Without so much as a few words. He gave one of his elite, Maiden Flight, command of the Royal Guard in his absence. Despite his flustered modesty, it turns out the pegasus made an extremely competent leader. As for Shining, Celestia suspected he was haunted by Death’s final words towards him. Pondering the meaning of them, alone, in a condition of absolute depression. The Princess of the Sun would not have that. She sent one of her few alicorn peers to console him, help him through this troubled time. Cadence gave no objection. In fact, they really seemed to like each other. And it did wonders, too. With her help, the stallion was brought out of his dismal brooding. Shining Armor said that he would return to his duties within a few weeks. Celestia grimaced. Twilight had not spoken to her since that day, when she discovered the secret of the Elements. She could only make assumptions as to what was going through her young, impressionable mind. The princess considered the use of their magic absolutely necessary. Keeping peace within a kingdom was hard, to say the least. Impossible to do so alone, or with only two princesses. And of all the ponies she had failed, she felt as if she failed her students the most. Compiling the way she had acted right in front of her eyes with the fact that the minds of everypony in Equestria were constantly being subjected to magical influence... a lash of contempt towards her wouldn’t be unexpected. Twilight’s heart was in the right place. She had taught her the best she could; the young unicorn even considered her to be a second mother. Celestia could only pray that she could find her own way of understanding. She hoped with all of her soul that her prodigy would find her own peace of mind. She drew herself out of her miasmic thoughts and came to the present. The throne room was quiet. The guards at her side moved minimally, as they were trained to do. She hardly knew their names. Was that Swordplay, perhaps Shield Wall? Couldn’t be Aegis, he... passed away years ago. Such a dutiful stallion, rest his soul. They all looked almost exactly alike, anyhow, though she never stopped to wonder why. She must have known at one point in her life, but a lot has pressed upon her mind these past few months, allowing these trivial things to dissipate from her thoughts. What a shame. Oh, if only she could see herself now. She realized all this pointless mental prattling has creeped into her facial expressions. She was twisting her brow constantly in consternation, so much that it would appear quite ridiculous to an onlooker. She thanked the stars that nopony was gazing in her direction at the moment, but she had been doing nothing but sitting silently on her bum for the past few hours, having nothing better to do. She needed to do something to distract herself. Clear her senses. Celestia drew in a breath and cleared her throat. “Guards.” They both stiffened at her voice. “I’ll be retiring to my garden for a short while. I expect to be back within-” A seismic knock exploded into the room as the newly-crafted and finished oaken doors at the foot of her throne room split into eight or nine different chunks mingled with countless tiny splinters. They cascaded onto the lush, red carpet, embedding themselves and filling it with dust and dirt. From the cataclysmic whirlwind that shattered the entrance was a monstrous, bipedal figure, clad in blood red and steel, baying out shouts and grunts as a half-dozen guards clung to his body for dear life. They were nothing but trifling fleas to the hulking intruder. With one massive, iron paw, he grasped two of them around the neck and flung them aside. He twisted around and used his other, smaller hand to remove one stallions forelegs around his cowled head. He, too, was tossed afar. The biped spun and kicked the remaining ponies off of his towering, greave-clad legs. The guards rolled to a stop on the splinter-strewn floor and did not rise, being too weak. The stranger turned to Celestia. Under his hood was a pale face. Eyes that blazed like the white-hot rage of a bright star. Locks of hair that streamed out and over his broad chest like a cold, harsh frost. In a blur of impossibly-quick motion, he raised his right hand and gripped a tightly-wrapped handle. A grinding whine of metal sounded as he drew a sword. At least, if it could be called a sword. To the alicorn, the blade looked more like the map of a war-torn country, in the sense that it was emblazoned with eons of history and conflict, scars and marks of battle, more ancient than a mortal can comprehend. Blank faces of anger and agony screamed from the flat of the jagged weapon as it whipped through the air at breakneck speeds. Sparks and dust flew as the tip grazed the surface of the floor, grinding it to nothingness with its unreal sharpness. The fact that he could wield it at all was mind-boggling, but he held it with only one hand, as if it was as natural as another appendage. His glowing eyes narrowed. His teeth gritted together. His colossal chest inflated with a voluminous intake of breath. He bellowed out a deafening shout in a voice that sounded like the warcry of countless frenzied zealots, the boom of a thousand cannons, the ring and clank of steel-on-steel. “WHERE’S MY BROTHER?!?!?!” Celestia put both hooves to her face. “Not again...”