//------------------------------// // Epilogue: Then in the Fourth Age of Ponies... // Story: The Book of Water: The Marriage of the Slave King // by TalonMach5 //------------------------------// The Book of Water: The Marriage of the Slave King A Story by TalonMach5 Epilogue: Then in the Fourth Age of Ponies... Silver Tongue looked up at the strange wayfarer who had been telling him the undoubtedly ancient tale. The pale green unicorn harper, watched him take another drag from his pipe, before exhaling the smoke in a large ring over their heads. Pushing back his blue wide brimmed hat that had slipped down from his silvery mane with his hoof, he wondered where the human had heard it from. But more importantly, why. After the string of events that he’d been forced to endure through today, he needed answers. Though he was no stranger to wayfarers, many of his closest friends and associates in the harper’s guild were human. He questioned why he’d ended up meeting with this particular human, after being dumped in the middle of the Everfree Forrest by Scourge and Boomer, his dragon associate. He studied him carefully, wondering if it was pure happenstance or something else entirely that had led to their meeting here in the forest. The wayfarer caught the pony staring at him, and offered him a toothy grin. Though the firelight provided some illumination, it wasn’t enough to see more than the vague shape of his host’s face. “Traveler, how did you enjoy my story?” he asked, puffing his pipe once more. “It was a good tale,” Silver Tongue admitted, wishing he knew where the human had heard the story from. With the complete story at his disposal, he’d have something new to wow the crowds with in either Jamestown or Marelantis. “Where did you happen upon on it?” “Why, looking to expand your repertoire, harper?” the human said with a slight chuckle. “How did you know I was a harper?” Silver Tongue asked, growing suspicious of his host. “I never told you that.” Leaning forward so that his entire face was illuminated by the crackling fire, the human looked at him with his warm brown eyes. “Friend,” he said, wearing a small smile. “When you have been around as long as I have, you gain sort of a sixth sense for these type of things.” “What so you mean?” he asked, feeling curious about his host. “Well I mean, pony,” he said, adding some wood to the fire. “You long to share in the adventures of your forebearers, but are too afraid to take the first step past your door.” When he was confronted with the accusation, Silver Tongue felt himself growing warm, whether from the heat of the campfire or his own embarrassment, he didn’t know. “Sir, are you calling me a coward?” he said, raising his voice at the much larger human. “Friend, I know a little bit about being afraid,” the human said, giving the unicorn a thoughtful look. “It’s alright to fear, but unless you face your fear, you’ll never truly live.” “I see,” Silver Tongue replied, remembering how he’d turned down Scourge’s offer to join them in the search for the Vendetta. The Vendetta, the very idea of searching for the lost relic was pure folly. Didn’t they know, that the emperor and all his servants had scoured where the Diamond Vale had once been for centuries, and they still had left emptyhoofed. The idea that anypony, especially a washed up never been like himself, could quest for the long lost crown of some dead god in a quest to put an end to the emperor’s war once and for all, was insanity. Such things were beyond him, the only use he had anymore, was for entertaining drunkards and hecklers in backwater taverns and bars. “I see, friend,” the human said, nodding thoughtfully beneath his heavy cloak. “What do you see?” he half-heartedly asked, his mind still consumed with thoughts that Scourge had thought him capable of leading them to the long lost crown of the Slave King. “Your self-doubt,” he said, blowing another smoke ring. “Listen here, you… you,” Silver Tongue stammered, feeling slightly flustered by how well the human seemed to know him. “You don’t know anything about me!” The human considered his words for a moment, before taking another drag from his pipe. “Perhaps I don’t, friend,” he said, poking a glowing coal with a stick. “But do you know yourself?” “What?” the pony said, not sure how to answer his question. “I see a harper, who knows more of the lore of the forgotten ages than anyone else alive,” he said, pushing back his wide brimmed hat. “Someone who longs for a time long since passed, where adventure and heroism were more than the idle entertainment for disbelievers and drunkards. Where they were ideals you not only recounted in story, but lived as well.” “But that was so long ago,” Silver Tongue said, looking away from the human in shame. “There are no more adventures, no more heroes in the modern age, only the empire.” “Silver Tongue, that’s what Ouroboros and his flunkies in the cultural ministry would have you believe,” the wayfarer said, looking into his golden eyes. “But I know better, you know better. Lying within you is the strength to seize your destiny, you simply have to have to courage to take the first few steps out your door. Or don’t. The choice before you, is yours and yours alone.” “How do you know all this?” Silver Tongue demanded, confused by how this stranger knew so much about him. As far as he knew, they’d never met before. But somehow, the wayfarer knew all his hopes and fears, and even his name. “Who are you?” When he heard the question, the wayfarer gave him a bemused smile. “To some, they are tasked with keeping a promise to their friend,” he said, blowing smoke out of his nostrils. “And though he didn’t consider me his friend, I considered him mine. Silver Tongue, my name is Elrey, and I’ve watched over you all your life.” “You know Lady Bleu, don’t you,” Silver Tongue said, remembering the lovely unicorn from the bar. “Yes, I do, friend,” Elrey replied, giving him a warm smile. “Though she’ll always be Little Bleu to me.” Suddenly the pieces began falling into place, Elrey, Scourge, Little Bleu, was this wayfarer possibly the Slave King in disguise? “Are you him?” he asked in reverence, awed that he was in the Lord of Earth’s presence. “Are you the Slave King?” Elrey chuckled, and shook his head softly. “No, Silver Tongue, I’m not. As you can see, I still possess both my arms,” he said, with a hint of regret in his voice as he showed him both his arms. “If I was, the resistance might have an easier time of things.” “So you expect me to help Scourge?” he asked, afraid to hear Elrey’s answer. “Yes, I would like you to, Silver Tongue,” he said, adding a bit more fuel to the fire. “But as I said earlier, the choice is yours to make. But choose wisely, regret can be a hard thing to live with.” “Elrey, I’m still not sure if I should,” Silver Tongue said, hanging his head in shame for being so afraid. “I understand, Silver Tongue,” Elrey sagely replied, giving the pony an understanding smile. “Like me, my friend learned of regret the hard way.” “Elrey, what happened to your friend?” he asked, wondering who his friend was. “He let his pride blind him, and his fear paralyze him,” Elrey said, stoking the fire so it illuminated his face. “And in the end, they both wandered, lost in the heart of winter.”