The King of Kings

by Educated Guess


Epilogue: The Lone and Level Sands

As the final door slid closed behind her, and the runes around it fizzled and sparked, fusing the edges of the stone together, Harena allowed herself a deep, lonely, long-awaited sigh.

It was done. Finally, it was done. Every room of the temple, occupied - every door, sealed - their army of the dead, now led, complete. It had been difficult at the best of times to lure enough candidates to this place without making their existence widely known, but somehow, they had managed. The roster they had ended up with was hardly the one she had imagined all those years ago, but for its many difficulties and inconsistencies, it would, she thought, be all the better.

“Will he serve?” a voice asked.

She turned to look at Eremus, who was waiting for her a short distance down the hall.

“He will serve as well as he can,” she said.

“That is hardly ideal.”

“It is all we have.”

Eremus snorted, and turned away in a wordless gesture. Harena walked up beside him, and together, they made their way back towards the entrance.

“And you believe these halls will hold?” he continued.

Harena shrugged. “If Calor is anywhere near as good as his word.”

Eremus scoffed. “You place your faith in the Hermit?”

“I have no choice. While we were here, building the temple, he was planting the clues and whispers that would guide the journeys of the seekers. Every arrival here, save for a few I insisted upon, was of his choice and planning.”

Eremus stared at her incredulously. “Who thought it wise to give him such responsibility?”

Harena smiled slyly. “Zephyr did not object.”

He rolled his eyes. “Zephyr would not object to you if you told him the dunes were made of barley.”

“Be that as it may.”

They reached the fountain, which still tinkled gently in the silence, the only other sound apart from the echoing of their hoofsteps.

“I only wish that all of this had not been necessary,” she said somberly.

“Don’t we all?” mused Eremus. “If only Sal and Alga had bowed to the will of the Council, and not allowed their baseless arrogance to crack open the Rift in the Deep. The sea-ponies worship them as deities, you know. Even now, they direct their followers to build the city anew, a few hundred miles from the shore.”

“For what purpose?” queried Harena. “Their R’lyeh has been sealed by blood - there is nothing left for them to guard.”

He laughed derisively. “But they would not be the Lords of Atlantis if they had no Atlantis to Lord, now, would they?”

She shook her head sadly. “I suppose not.”

They stepped outside and, as one, looked up to the sky. The last deep purples and pinks of the sunset were slowly draining down behind the horizon, leaving only blackness and the twinkle of stars in their wake.

“They’ve done well tonight,” Harena said.

“Yes,” agreed Eremus. “Not bad at all.”

“They’ve had a long time to master it,” chirped a third voice from their right. “Astra’s death was longer ago than we think, especially for ones as short-lived as they.”

“You speak truly, Sera, as always,” said Harena, returning the Locksmith’s smile. “How fares Olympus?”

Sera bowed deeply to the pair, and went on. “The events of these last centuries have weighed heavily on the Council -”

“As they have on us all,” Eremus murmured, eyes still searching the sky.

“- but we will be glad to have the Duatians back among our fold in Elysia.”

Harena tilted her head quizzically. “You think we shall leave our home?”

“It is your choice to make, of course,” Sera added, “but after this gate is sealed, will there be anything left for you, here in the desert?”

Harena glanced back at the temple - the great monument that she both hoped and feared was the pinnacle of her life’s work - and sighed deeply once again.

“No. I suppose not.” Looking back to Sera, she said, “What of Zephyr?”

“I spoke with him already - he flies with the westward winds as we speak.”

“Calor?”

“Ah -” Sera chuckled. “He, I told as well, but he carried a mischief in the corners of his eyes. We shall see him again, I think - but how soon?” She shrugged. “You know as well as I.”

“And you are ready?”

“The words are all in place. With your assistance, the final seal can be forged.”

“Then let it be done.”

Harena and Eremus stepped off of the stone platform. As they did, the front door of the temple ground itself shut, melting and fizzling just like hundreds of others had before it. Together, the three alicorns began to march silently across the dunes, cresting one, then another, then a third. At the peak of the fourth, the highest point for several miles, they turned back to face the temple, and when they spoke, their words rang out togethr - each so different, and yet all meaning the same.

“Egsiltei teare deglotiae, totia opera nostre.”
“Exulten ter degluto totie apera nostro.”
“Ackselt tar deglatia totes oprin notera.”
˥ǝʇ ʇɥǝ ǝɐɹʇɥ sʍɐlloʍ ʍɥolǝ onɹ ʍoɹʞ˙

“Ianua classe si en aeterna.”
“Iena claso sat en aterno.”
“Yana claus set in eteirna.”
˥ǝʇ ʇɥǝ pooɹ ɹǝɯɐᴉu ɔlosǝp ɟoɹǝʌǝɹ˙

“Moltevora tenabra lengo enferi.”
“Multiveran tanobre lenge enfario.”
“Maltevara tanebras langen inferia.”
┴ɹɐd ʇɥǝ pɐɹʞuǝss ɟɐɹ qǝloʍ˙

“Lumene captine, qui costeda ea.”
“Lumeno captonem, que custodo ean.”
“Lamanos captana, qi castodant es.”
┴ɹɐd ʇɥǝ lᴉƃɥʇ' ʇo ƃnɐɹp ᴉʇ˙

Then they turned, spread their wings, and were off into the sky. Behind them, the desert groaned, then rumbled, then cracked as the temple slowly sank beneath the sand. The door disappeared, then the tops of the pillars, then the peaks of the roofs, then the tips of the tallest spires, and still, the sand flowed down, like water into a lake. When at last, the earth had had its fill, not a single trace of 300 years of work remained.

Not one of them looked back.