//------------------------------//
// Epilogue 
// Story: Sun & Moon Act I: Ascending Star 
// by cursedchords 
//------------------------------//

One Week Later
Beneath the Citadel of Everfree

The caverns deep beneath the Citadel were silent, held in stasis from the forces of time by the impenetrable rock above them. The way down was locked, and would remain so, by order of the Princesses, indefinitely. There were no longer any within the Resistance who cared for Terraria’s old stories.

The panel which the Master of Earth had interpreted as bearing the prophecy of Discord’s defeat still stood, starkly and boldly declaring its message to anyone who would read it. The Grand Prophecy was resting, oblivious to any of the goings-on above, still carrying on the purpose that had been laid down for it millennia before.

But suddenly there was a rumble, shaking loose a few cracked stones from the adjacent columns of the room. Streaks of light shot through the blackness of the cavern, cutting their way across the bare wall that stood at the end of the Prophecy’s current progression. The light sliced its way through the rock, leaving new engravings where before there had only been blank stone. In moments, the next panel of the Prophecy had come to life, waiting dutifully for its fulfillment, when it could signal the next one forward. There were many panels left, a long future left to be decided.





The Great Eastern Desert

And so they had left him here, those traitors that he had once thought his allies. His own Order, the product of all his labour, all his sweat and blood, they had fallen in behind those upstarts, those sweet-talking alicorns from the Resistance. After everything that he had done for them, after he had slain the deceiver, the False Prophet who had almost led Equestria to ruin. He should have been hailed as a hero, not cast out here in the wastelands to die.

All around Seraph, the wind whipped dust and sand over long, sloping dunes. The Sun beat down harshly above, its heat sapping his limbs of their strength. Yet somehow he still found the strength to keep walking.

He had been held for about a week, kept under lock and key like a common criminal. Then his Order had taken him out here, far to the east, beyond borders that ponies had never crossed. They had thrown him aside, without food or water, clearly trusting that the desert would take care of him, would do what they didn’t have the courage to do themselves.

How he had walked after that, Seraph didn’t know. The trail of his hoofprints stretched long behind him, though the wind would quickly erase them with shifting sand. He had no thoughts of where he walked to, or what might await him out in the wild beyond, but he pushed on regardless. He’d fought all his life up to now, and nothing of that was going to change.

For hours he trudged on through the blowing grit, as the shadows of the dunes lengthened and the Sun slowly sank behind him. The wind was picking up, coming at him head-on, the sand stinging in his eyes and making it even harder for him to progress. Seraph could feel the strength leaving his limbs, but he would never give up, not until the wind beat him down onto his back and forced his submission.

He faltered, his hoof sliding out from underneath him as he stepped forward, and Seraph landed headfirst in the sand. He tried to prop himself up onto his knees, but his muscles refused to respond. The wind whipped again through his ears, and his vision blurred as the sand blew all around him. If this was to be his end, then Seraph willed it to come quickly.

Then, far in the distance, Seraph saw something. The outline of a creature appeared, hazy in the blowing dust, but it was clearly not a pony. It strode forward on only two strong legs, its other two held at its side. The creature stood tall and gaunt, stepping gracefully through the sand towards him. Then everything went black.