//------------------------------// // Epilogue // Story: How my Little Brother Became an Alicorn // by WiseFireCracker //------------------------------// Before the end: The Boy in the Dark Bucking plot, Sam would have said… then told him “Horseapple! Don't repeat that around Mother, squirt, or I swear!” Usually, that sort of thought made him giggle, but he really didn't want to these days, and Sam, well, he was the whole problem. They'd talk about the Elements of Harmony. Tom had been ready to yell at them all for what they did to Sam, so they'd sit together in their living room, with Eric helping retell the story. It had been okay, until he'd said why he had let the Elements hit. “Because if we had managed… if what we did worked, our friends here might have died.” Tom hadn't gotten it. It just had been impossible. In that one moment, his big brother had looked like a stranger. “T-then why did you try in the first place...?” Tom had seen through the fake smile then. It was one of the worst Sam ever put up. It was sad all over, and he might as well have cried – not that he would, cooler than that an' all. “Because Mom and Dad missed you. And you missed them.” Sam had been right. It got even worse after… well, when he'd been told they wouldn't get back home. It was impossible. He felt a bit empty when he looked around and he remembered Mom or Dad weren't going to be there. Once in a while, he just… he wanted Mom to tuck him in or to play with Dad. Sam did both. He did everything, tried real hard, but it wasn't the same... He missed them… But if he cried, Sam showed up, all concerned and nice and… and… he didn't like making his big brother worry. Felt really unawesome when he saw the bags under Sam's eyes. The mornings, it was just Eric. Sam was always in Canterlot by the time he woke up. Even he could tell it was getting bad. The chains that dumb guy had drawn all over Sam's fur sometimes changed a bit. Like they were tighter. He hated how they looked around Sam's throat. He could swear it would twitch and squeeze whenever. He hated those things. What gives?! They were so unfair! When it looked like more silver than gold, Sam disappeared for the day, and it was Eric that looked after him during that time. He'd almost told him, when Tom asked. It was obvious from the look on his face that he had wanted to. In the end though, the colt had been sent back to bed without an answer. The next week, Sam got nightmares. Bad ones. They didn't think he heard. T'was hard not to, but he'd pretend to stay asleep. Sam had whispered something like “Damn, I hope I didn't wake him up.” When Eric had argued about telling somepony, a therapist or hay, maybe even Celestia if that was what it took, Sam had argued about the money and the trust that required. Tom had been angry. It was stupid! Why wouldn't he just want to get better?! He hadn't jumped in though, 'cause, okay… the money thing. It was his fault a bit, maybe. He'd told them, Celestia and the others in Canterlot. “If Sam's not a prince, I'm not a prince either!” Their cuz had nodded, and he'd dropped down the title or whatever it was. The money hadn't felt very important. Diamond Tiara had looked at him weird after she heard of it. He was sure she was gonna be mean about it, but she never really said anything. That was good, 'cause he hadn't been in a mood to let it slide. He had real important stuff to do. It was his turn to save his brother. No matter what it took. Aftermath one: The Prince of Fools He felt like such a fool. He was one. That morning had been one of the most surreal in years. The night before, he had been enjoying an evening with the bearer of Generosity. They had spun over the dance floor, before Princess Twilight's dragon assistant had requested one out of his partner. He had bowed out, and allowed it despite his want for more. Going to bed, there was nothing making him think the world would turn upside-down yet again. He distinctly remembered waking up, feeling hopeful that Lady Rarity might accept to have breakfast with him in the royal dining hall. Granted, she would have been invited regardless, but if he could ask her first… His guards informed him that she, as well as the rest of the bearers had left during to night to fight a threat to the kingdom. And his fr--… mentor had been the threat. The gaudy cape Prince Calx had showed up at court with, stolen. The stars hidden by storm clouds as far as the eyes could see. Disasters possibly ravaging his beautiful country. His cup of tea had exploded against the wall. His favorite one even. The guards hadn't reacted to his threats of demotion for such defamation of the royal family. The answers hadn't changed despite all his royal blood. “You lied!” he accused, and he wasn't sure which pony he meant. The Alicorn had left the docks the very same day. It hadn't returned till a week later, when the whispers had finally made it clear they wouldn't leave his mind. It always seemed to have been the same words. Not a good stallion. Not a good prince. Not a good pony. He had claimed it many times, and it had always felt true to him. Before in regard to his unseemly arrogance and behavior, after… well, there really was no need to illustrate the thought further. They were keeping him hidden again, and this time he wasn’t exactly sure where they’d sent Ventus Vinco. He nearly slipped into old habits. He did, somewhat. The engineers were the victim of his frustrations for the first two days, then they sat him down and talked. “A prince can be afraid. A prince can feel lost.” What did you know about being a prince? You were never one. He was following the teachings of a monster. He should have stopped. Truly, it had been proof of his rightfulness all along. He’d seen it, from the very beginning, him, not his aunts, not his cousin, and certainly no other noble! But one of those same engineers had saved his life. The gratitude he felt had not dimmed in the slightest, and no, he could not pretend that treating any of his employee like they were beneath him appealed to him. He really should have stopped acting as he was, Blueblood mused once more, helping a maid steady a shelf with a little burst of magic. He then dismissed her words of gratitude, though not unkindly, perhaps a few words of advice if he could be so qualified. It would be a shame if she were so injured. His princely blue eyes trailed after her, trailed after the smile in the corner of her lips and the hoof over her chest, and he shook his head. He really should have. But he was a fool. Aftermath two: The Betrayed Mare He was often there in the middle of the street, little beads of sweat making his coat glisten as he trotted. After some time, she had noticed his frame growing thicker, bulkier, not unlike Shiny when he first entered the guard. It made her giggle back then, when her father started complaining that his son would be bigger than he. Now, there was no laughter to be heard. The way her heart turned at the sight… it was so unfair, she thought. Everyday of the week. Everyday with the same colt in tow. Sometimes, she could hear the younger one complain about school being boring, with perhaps a more legitimate claim to this than most. One of his essays lied on her desk waiting for her corrections. It was fascinating, in a way, how in-depths his knowledge of the soil and rocks went. Pinkie's sister had given a glowing review to his essay on rock farming techniques. What would Ventus tell her about the skies if she asked… Every time the urge came, her mind went to a dance above the clouds. The touch of wind over her fur, stroking her face, her chest, her wings. He would show her the world from the eyes of a true alicorn. He would whisper it to her with his deep, gentle voice. But she never left the library when he crossed the street. Every time, he looked both happy and sad. He smiled, all the time, rivaling even Pinkie Pie in that department, but it didn’t always reach his eyes. Most of the time, they held a strange emptiness, a piece of him gone missing. Ventus Vinco seemed still so lost. But he tried when somepony looked his way. Ponies smiled back, but a few would hurry along the way. It wasn't always a convincing smile. Mostly, from what she could tell, the genuine ones he kept for Calx and Thadal Fragor. And Thunderlane, surprisingly enough. She didn't want to know what she would do if he smiled her way. “C-come on, Twilight! You love him, don’t you?” She startled, and rushed to hide the blush that Spike did notice. “You were looking at him again! So why don’t you try to talk to him? He’s still there!” “I can't, Spike. You know what he did!” Her voice lashed like a whip, harsh, sudden. “I can't trust him. I can't trust...” Myself, she almost said. Twilight turned to her books in a flurry of purple feathers and fur, her scowl as if set in stone. The base of her horn, right where her crown was meant to rest, burned. It had taken a word. Just his voice. And the greatest magic in the land had been subverted. But you knew he was not serious. His eyes had scared her that night. No, not serious, not inflexible. But angry, terrified, disgusted. And once, once so cold that her heart had seized in panic that, maybe, maybe she had misjudged him. She had known the truth of it too late, when he stopped short of ever reaching the circle. The Elements of Harmony could have sealed him away. It could have taken a thousand years before Ventus was allowed freedom again. He played her into blasting him. “Give up, Spike. It is over between us. We've had to choose, and we did. There's nothing more to it.” “Yes, but… don’t you love him?” Celestia be good... The memory of their only night together still haunted her. While their kisses had felt like whirlwinds at times, they had lain in tenderness. Slowly, gently, both of them too scared they might lose one another otherwise. They had been one. His warmth lingered over her skin, his voice husky in her ears. He asked her to weight it against her family, her friends, herself. “Will you follow me?” And she saw Cadence again, radiant, Shining by her side. And the announcement… The hoof on Cadence's belly reminding her of the precious, priceless lives that could have been lost. If they hadn't showed… If they had been late... “I… I have to prepare for my appointment with the yak prince, Spike. Princess Celestia told me his people are very proud, and I cannot insult him by refusing to entertain his courtship, at least.” Her little brother frowned, his arms folded over his chest. “That wasn't an answer.” No, it hadn't been. Talking, speaking, telling, listening… They were different things now. She would never be able to quite forget what it meant to verbalize a thought now. There would always be a chance, there would always be the possibility of him hearing. Her throat tightened, but even she could not pinpoint why. It would have been prudent, wise even, to place wards, to study the phenomenon until it could be understood under all its forms. Oh, yes, it would have been wiser, smarter and all around practical, to simply reply with a few written words. She didn’t have many to give back to her little brother. It would have been a far wiser alternative. Her eyes finally leaving the window and the outside, she turned to him and sighed. “Yes, I do.” Not staying longer to see the slitter of hope in her little brother’s eyes, Twilight trotted back to her room and locked the door. Aftermath three : The Childless A small box, amidst shredded brown paper, lied between the driver’s and the passenger’s seat. On the grey leather, it contrasted strongly, its cover showing a collection of characters of pastel and flashy colors. The bearded man let his pale blue gaze wander over the childish forms, fingers clenched over the package's buyer address. He had looked it over, suspecting perhaps a mistake in the delivery. But the name that he had found through the website had reminded him of the same young man, begging to be listened to. ‘Season Four’ “Come on, Linda. We have to be there early if we want to get to my sister’s apartment. The movers' truck will not wait forever.” His wife startled, looking back from the now empty living room to him. Her coat closed well over her form, she rose her hand behind the door frame. Linda Miller placed her finger on the switch, lingered, and darkness filled the house.