Meanwhile...

by WatchMeShadow

Epilogue - By FIMScourge (Optional)

Author's Note:

IMPORTANT NOTICE!

Hey guys, so I felt bad about how heavily I ended up editing FIMScourge's Epilogue that he graciously made for me. So I'm posting his original work here for all those interested in reading it, it's actually pretty good but as I said in In The Epilogue Aurthor's Notes it just has too many things that'll conflict with the story. He might ask me to put this down, which I will do so if he does.

This is non-cannon to the story, just to be clear.

Just to be safe here's another link to the next ark of this series, This is...

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　　Scootaloo
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　　Scootaloo woke up from one of the best dreams she had ever had. It could even rival the one where Princes Luna had visited her. She found herself in a familiar room. It was painted light blue, and Scootaloo lay on the one bed, a nightstand and dresser the only pieces of furniture there. It was the guest room of the Cake’s, above Sugarcube Corner. Pinkie Pie sometimes snuck her in here during the winters. It wasn’t winter, so why was she here? She was still groggy from her dream, so she could not remember. Scootaloo tried to get up,but froze when her roaming, sleepy eyes fell on the other side of the bed. There slept Rainbow Dash, mumbling in her sleep, a wing draped over Scootaloo, like a soft warm blanket. Scootaloo could not believe it.

　　I-i wasn’t dreaming? She thought in disbelief. Tears formed in her eyes. This...is all....real?

　　As tears rolled down her cheeks, Scootaloo felt as if she couldn’t be anymore happier than this. She settled back down into the bed, snuggling under Rainbow’s wing, eliciting a murmur from Rainbow as she tucked Scootaloo in tighter. But, she couldn’t sleep. She was too ecstatic. So she closed her eyes and enjoyed the time with her ‘big sis’.
　　
　　Click.
　　
　　Scootaloo opened her eyes to the brief flash of light that had shone through her eyelids and the sound that had caught her attention. It didn’t take long for her to find the source; Pinkie Pie, holding a camera ad picture. She smiled sheepishly, then slowly backed out of the room. Scootaloo stared at her until she had left and closed the door. When she did, Scootaloo continued her snuggling with Rainbow Dash, who had not woken up. Scootaloo was certain this was the beginning of something amazing.
　　
　　On the other side of the closed door, Pinkie looked at the picture, smiling. This was a memory that would never fade. Her talent was to make ponies happy; and Scootlaoo had been one foal who had needed a lot of cheering up. She had done much, and so had her friends; and now, her job was done. The torch had been passed on to Rainbow Dash. A perfect choice, if her Pinkie Sense had anything to say about it, which it did it.
　　
　　Pinkie knew this was the beginning of a new chapter in everyone’s lives.
　　
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　　Meanwhile in Manehatten...
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　　Manehatten Museum of Magic was a place for ponies of all types to learn and explore their heritage in magic; from the Old Pegasi Guard’s wing blades, to the unbreakable tools and armor of The Smithy, a group of Earth Ponies who created the finest magic infused metal works in Equestria; and even the relics of the Gathering, the unicorns who first raised and lowered the Sun and Moon. Just these three were naught but the tip of the highest spire of Canterlot Castle. Ponies and artifacts of every age, even before the Princesses, were exhibited for the ponies of the future to learn about. There was so much, that the museum had to rotate what was on exhibition for lack of room in the approved public areas, and even then it loaned out some relics to other museums to save storage space. Of course, with so many ancient relics of power and tools that could be used for many things, whether they be good or evil, it stood to reason that the security of The Museum would be top of the line. Hexes were placed on every door and window to prevent intrusion, cameras watched every entrance, hall and room, and multiple spells, curses, and the like protected the various relics, meant to stun would-be thieves and alert the security and the local guard corp of an attempt at theft. The guards themselves were equipped with specialized armor which had spell diffusion matrix's so powerful that even the princesses would have a hard time fooling them imprinted into the armor. As a final measure, the exhibits were all sitting on a Singularity Stone, stored in a locked null box. If released, it would drain the magic from a square mile area, and render any and all devices, magic or otherwise, to fail. All in all, this building was arguably third in terms of security, behind Canterlot Castle in second, and Canterlot Vault in first.
　　
　　But none of these compared to the true ultimate weapon that the Museum possessed.
　　
　　Misdirection.
　　
　　The relics and artifacts on display were naught but replicas, fakes to stop the power of legends and gods from coming into the hands of villains. No one but the Curator and the Princesses were supposed to know. If a Curator were to retire, the information would be wiped from their minds and all physical and magical traces destroyed. The real artifacts and relics were secured strictly in the storage area of the same museum, in multiple layers of null-metals to prevent their signatures from being detected.

　　Of course, even such measures had weaknesses.
　　
　　It just so happened that the previous Curator had a daughter, a filly named Lotsa Thoughts. The dark gray earth pony filly was always thinking and writing, researching and finding out how things worked. Said filly had noticed that when she and her father had went to the storage area as part of a tour for Father’s day, that the boxes with artifacts in there were more protected and more expensive than the entire museums security combined. So, as any good kid, and scientist would do, she figured out the secret of said system, and the flaws. All this was written down in a single, plain blue and green journal. One that was lost when Lotsa, or Lotty, as she liked to be called, was cornered by the local bullies, who dumped the entire contents to the wind. The journal fell in a pile of newspapers, and sat there for months, until one particular stallion tripped on a beer bottle and revealed it to him. When he found out what exactly was detailed there, and being that he was low on cash for booze, decided to sell it to the highest bidder. Only one pony, a mare, accepted his terms of five thousand bits. The stallion woke up later with a dislocated shoulder and a pounding headache, a note attached to his face thanking him for the journal.
　　
　　Tonight, the journal would serve it’s current owner well. The cloaked mare grinned, watching from the rooftops as the Curator left the Museum. Her sapphire gleamed with greed. An hour passed, and she did not move. And at moon high, she made history.

　　Spreading her wings, the mare flew in a zigzag pattern towards the window nestled just underneath the sloping roof of the museum. The window glowed with runes, before being snuffed out by the small nullstone produced from inside the cloak. With a quick application of hoof polish on glass, the window had a nice pony sized hole in it. Flying in, the mare found herself in the main hall, a statue of Celestia and Luna in regal and leader-like poses, marble and onyx respectively, standing tall in the center. The two story tall statue was a gift from a stone mason by the name of Carver, created the master piece from a single block, a specialized piece meant to show unity between the two sisters. But, like all the piece in the Musuem, it was a fake. It actually served as a magic battery, keeping the runes and other running, with plenty of backups, and consoles so the guards wouldn’t be affected by the lasers. The cloaked mare grinned, showing pearly white teeth. Flying down, she rummaged in her cloak, pulling out a small, orange gem with a ring around it. Twisting the ring and putting the gem on the neck of the marble Celestia, an orange glow spread over the top of Celestia’s head, and the white marble quickly faded into transparency, revealing the mechanisms and consoles inside. Studying them for some time, the cloaked mare reached out with a bright yellow hoof, and tapped the neck a few times. The spot where she tapped hissed, revealing a flawless white gem in a runic circle. The mare unceremoniously dropped a stone in, which, on contact with the gem, flared green, before fading into a dull orange.
　　
　　In the museums ‘official security room, which really didn’t hold more than the screens for the cameras and a button to call the Guard, a lone stallion sat at the desk, pigging out on the veritable bouquet of fruits and pastries that the bright orange maned mare had given to him. As he chewed on his third jelly filled doughnut, he couldn’t help but think about her. She was a beauty, that was no mistake. The way she moved, and the way she talked sounded oh so amazing. Half-closing his eyes, the guard couldn't help but remember those two sparkling sapphires that the mare called eyes...it was like she was right there...

　　With that, he slumped forward snoring, the potion in the food taking its toll.
　
　　The mare closed the door to the security room. Now that the security was out of commission, the guards wouldn’t be too much of a problem either, as most had fallen victim to the system itself. She walked past multiple still forms of guards before reaching a door that said ‘RESTRICTED ACCESS’
　
　　She pushed the door open, revealing a warehouse twice the size of the Museum itself, thanks to a spatial-displacement spell. No guards roamed here, not knowing the full extent of the power.

　　Now, the Curator nor the Princesses weren’t stupid. In the extremely rare event someone were to figure it out, wards were placed on the boxes of the relics, though the amount varied on the danger of the object. While the journal barely mentioned that, the mare wasn’t stupid, either.
　　
　　She trotted to the first one she could find, a box roughly the size of her. Putting her hoof on it, she could tell the magic was strong, freshly applied. She did this for multiple boxes, until she found the one with the weakest magic, and had a ward she had prepared for.
　　
　　The box was small, no bigger than a jewelry case. A dull, powerful thrum of magic flowed mutely from it, so faint it sat at the edge of your senses. The mare tapped the metal case of the box, and the front twisted, morphing and moving like a liquid till a indentation of a hoof print was shown. Obviously, one would put in their hoof so the metal could ascertain if the hoof was the Princess’ or not. A supposedly unbreakable lock, unless you had the Princess’ living hoof.
　　
　　This didn’t even faze the mare. First, she took out a needle and bottle filled with a clear, thick liquid. Then, she pulled out a single white hair from the folds of her cloak, and dropped it in the bottle. The potion roiled, then turned an ugly shade of moldy milk. She filled the needle, and applied it to her foreleg. The mare let loose a grunt of agony, as her foreleg twisted, the skin and muscles reassembled until she had a pure alabaster hoof. Inserting it into the indent, and waiting a few seconds, a click echoed through the warehouse, and the lid opened. The mare grinned, greed flashing in her eyes as she gazed at the necklace inside.
　　
　　She knew this was her ticket to a new chapter of life.
　　
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Meanwhile......
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　　“....do you mean, we all have to go!?” A female voice yelled.
　　
　　Anger. Shock. Sadness?
　
　　“We have no choice. She’ll execute you for treason if you don’t. Only those unable to fight, and those who care for them can stay.” A male voice, calmer.
　　
　　Sorrow. Hidden deep. Pain.
　　
　　“But then why must I go!? Am I not a caretaker, and married to the Second in Command of-” The voice is cut off.
　　
　　“Yes, but she wants you because you are our most skilled healer. You and a handful of others are the medics of the attack.” said the male voice.
　　
　　“She’s crazy!”
　　
　　“Maybe she is.” replied the male voice, a hint of irritation rising. “But she isn’t wrong. Food is running low. Even the reserves are depleted. We must put all of our strength into this, or we will not survive for another year.”
　　
　　“....Is it really that bad? That we must risk our existence in this world?”
　　
　　A sigh from the male voice. Defeat?
　　
　　“Yes. If you won’t do it for the Queen...” A shift. A dim light. Two silhouettes. “Do this for our child.”
　　
　　A pause.
　　
　　“....Alright. If we must.”
　　
　　The next day there was no one. I knew they were alive. But the Caring One held me, not Her. She, and He, were both tense, nervous. The Caring One sensed it too, so did the others.
　　
　　And one day, they were gone. A flask of pink, and then pain. Agonizing, excruciating pain, so much that you could do nothing but throw up and curl into a little ball at the sight...
　
　　Then the Queen had come in. She was limping badly, her head hung low. She said nothing, she knew how many were dead; that empty feeling was split against All. But a leader felt it worse, a loss of life, a loss of pride, and a loss of trust. But we all stayed. Death lay beyond our inhospitable safe haven.
　　
　　I asked where He and She were.
　　
　　She said ‘gone’.
　　
　　I did not believe her. I could not. I would not. But then she shared the story; of how He...died, impaled by the only tree for miles around. Most others landed around it. Served as a terrifying effigy. She was crushed to death. Hitting a outcrop, dropping with barely a scratch. then the outcrop collapsed, trapping her under rock as 3 tons of stone pushed down. Slowly. It took three hours. Three. Hours. For her to die. I hear the screams getting louder, the world spins. A shout; green eyes tell me The Queen is now She. The scrams are unbearable. They are coming....coming FOR M-
　　
　　Her eyes opened, a gasping breath was taken. The eyes roamed around the cave She called Her Room. Nothing. A dream...no. A nightmare. The same one, every night. Ever since recovering from the sickness, it plagued Her. A reminder of simpler times, times she could not reach anymore.
　　
　　It was still as bad as ever.
　
　　She turned over, and cried herself to sleep.

　　She wished for a new chapter in her life.