Between Heaven and Hell

by TheAnthro

Rating: teen
Tags: Anthro, Dark
Length: 1409

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Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2013-07-05 01:46:04 UTC

Prologue: Broken Glass

Who are we? What are we? Where did we come from? Where are we going? Why are we here? So many questions have been asked throughout the passage of time, but those same few questions have been a recurring theme in the minds of the many. Oftentimes, life will give answers, but only just. The answers are nothing but vague, ambiguous solutions to a problem that we can barely begin to comprehend. The answers are just that; answers. They open up more ideas, more philosophy, and in the end, more questions.

What are we? Maybe the answer is clear in a physical sense. We are ponies. We are men. We are a comprehensive combination of two breeds of mammal, a grotesque hybrid of equine and primate that exists by happenstance between the respective worlds that both forms of genus inhabit and control without inhibition or consideration. Beyond that, our merest being and ability to think seem to inflect that we do in fact exist in the form that we see and know, whether or not it is true. For the time being and until such a time as evidence points to a misconception of our own senses and state of reality, it is safe to assume that our eyes themselves are not lying to us.

Where did we come from? We can almost assuredly stipulate to the matter of our own existence due to the fact that we can consider it, and we can assume that there is a reason that we exist in the first place. Beyond that, until such a time as a force which can display credible evidence towards a definable genesis of our species and our own reality, we can not say for certain where exactly we came from. This is only heightened for the few of us that are aware of the other counterparts of ourselves, the beings that exist beyond our own plane. We are but reflections of a single point of origin, mere doppelganger copies of an original entity.

Who are we? We are what we were created. Beyond that, we can't really say. While a physical description of ourselves is more than obvious, anything beyond that is incoprehensible and therefor an uncertainty. To ask who we really are denotes a purpose being that of merely existing, that there is a reason for us to be. That begs the other questions; why are we here and where are we going. For whatever reason we exist, it is safe to assume that the being, beings, or purpose for our existence is linked to a divine path other than simple chaos. Our existence in a form of order points to a reason outside of entropy, since entropy is the form that everything eventually obtains. We don't know why we are, simply that we are.

So who are we? Well, in the simplest of terms, we are Anthros. We are a mutation that exists as the conglomeration of the two most powerful species in almost every single plane of existence that we have, as of yet, discovered. We cannot at the present time derive an answer for our being, but we can, however, understand what we are. Perhaps a time will come when we know, but it's not here yet. Let us live with it.

My name is Pinkamena Diane Pie, daughter and heir to a line of the Sentinari. Perhaps you have never heard of us, and that would be perfectly understandable. Our entire existence is maintained as a secret as such knowledge of our existence as a race would compromise our entire purpose. We are what we have always been, and we know why we exist. We have answers to questions others have spent entire lives seeking an answer to, only to fade away, wither, and eventually die. All the while with the solution standing nearby, inconspicuous and imperceptible.

As a Sentinel, a Guardian of the Gate and a Keeper of Time and Order, it is my responsibility to maintain the facade that all of my kind have kept for eons. I tell this to you now simply because the time for such responsibility has passed by, and the time will soon come when neither I nor my brethren can keep all of our kind in the dark as to what the world truly is. All we can do is attempt to prepare you for the coming storm, tie down the sails, and hope against hope that what we have spent our time guarding against will not tell you first.

The Sentinari know of the other worlds, of our origins. We do not know why we we were made, only how. We know that worlds beyond our own exist not in the stars, but in the reflections in an infinite loop of mirrors. We can only speculate as to which of these worlds is the original, the point from which all others reflect their own versions. However, the importance of such an origin is neither here nor there. All that matters to a Sentinel is the Gate. Without us, we would have died off a long time ago.

The Gate is not a type of mystical enchanted doorway or a physical glass mirror to be tread through. It is a hole, a rift in the fabric of space and time itself. For that we reason, we seven must blend in among our peers, maintaining a cheap facade to keep them blissfully ignorant of the worlds and oftentimes darkness that are right beside them. That is the task of the Sentinel.

Sentinels are not like the traditional races we know and care for. There are only ever seven of us at a time, and we seven do our task both diligently and promptly. We are born among the others of our species, and we never reproduce. Should we do so, the implications therein would be drastic. Therefor we must live our lives in celibacy, bound for the course of our lives to live and die alone.

We hide among the other races, as that is where we are born. Most of us choose a manner in which to avoid any form of romance, and the most common is much akin to my own. The surest way to be viewed as simply a "friend" is to be simply too hyper, naive, and simply childish to appeal to any but the desperate and the utterly insane. And such have I acted without hesitation or remorse for the longest time, keeping peace and order without the slightest consideration of anything otherwise, not worried about anything other than my basic job.

Such had I acted, such had I and others like me therefor failed. We were not prepared to fulfill our duties, and it has therefor befallen upon everybody else to complete a task that was never meant for them, never within their own destinies to fulfill. For that, I am truly sorry. As I now have little choice left, I tell this to you with all the importance and diligence I can offer, to shed light on a subject purposefully kept in the dark through the many ages.

I suppose that the simplest way to start a story is to tell it from its own origins. Or in this case, the origins of a situation that to this day remains unresolved. It all really started not long after the Coronation of a certain Princess Twilight Sparkle, an unwholesomely powerful and rather introverted individual, a longtime pupil of the head deity of my world, and one of my dearest and most loving friends.

Had I known the consequences of a simple Coronation, I would never in my years have allowed for it to ever occur. While Alicorns such as Princess Celestia are as rare a race as mine, and live with far more longevity, they still remain within our jurisdiction. As a Sentinel, I'd have attained the power to nip this off at the butt, rather than letting the situation fester, ignored by the only beings capable of stopping it.

The problem truly began on the sixth of May, merely three weeks after the Coronation of a new princess and the changing in the balance and order of an entire world. How one single event could blow the world to pieces has been a mystery since the beginning of time. All from one single, little event arose the chaos that is our world today.