"I am all, yet I am none; I exist, yet, at the same time, do not exist. My lifespan stretches farther than even She who created them, and I will still continue even farther after. My memories are filled with all that I have taken, as well as all I have spared. The Goddess of this land did not forge me from her magic like she did the others; I came in to being after them as their shadows, watching as they matured and grew until their knowledge and bodies eventually began to falter. I come in to their lives and pass them on to an immortal life of peace and happiness while I dig their graves and carve their tombstones for the remainder to mourn. My hollow eyes saw what was and what would be, but this is new all on it's own. I guess even Her children are flawed, but tis not for me to judge. My goal is clear, my scythe is sharpened, and my work is to be continued; there is one more alive, but not for long..."
*****
The world of Equestria, once bright and incredible and teeming with all kinds of extraordinary life, was now nothing more than another reminder of the chaos that vicious war machines could unleash upon an unprepared world. Countless lifeless husks and their perpetually burning hides littered the various walkways and homes, while other, somehow less fortunate ponies of all shapes and sizes, species and color, lay mutilated beyond recognition, serving as a constant reminder of the brutality that once reigned.
Even the glorious sun, which used to signal day and bring warmth and light to Equestria's citizens, was hidden by its sister, the moon. As a result, the once beautiful, blue sky was now almost completely pitch black from the neverending eclipse, as well the smoke from the fires that burnt down homes and cooked now-dead flesh.
She had seen it all from what remained of the castle where the two sisters once ruled. She, of course, had had no choice; she was the only one who had made it inside when the protection spell activated. She had held out hope that somepony else might have survived, but upon entering and looking around, she found that she was the only one.
For a long time, she waited and prayed to the long-gone Princesses that somepony else would show up, but the last session was ten weeks ago, and still, no one had showed. Now, as Octavia figured, the only thing she could do with herself now was live for as long as possible; if not for herself, then for anypony that may some day come along.
"To any survivors who might eventually show up if I'm... gone - " The grey mare cleared her throat as best as she could, holding back a tear. "If I'm gone, I, Octavia Melody of Canterlot, or rather, of what is left of Canterlot, wish for you to keep this journal as a reminder of what Equestria used to be, back before the... the war."
Octavia slowly walked over to the throne of Celestia. She dropped her journal and pen onto it and laid herself out upon the well-cushioned pillow with a soft 'plop'.
Octavia stared off in to the quiet space of the throne room, her eyes half-open and a small frown placed upon her face.
"Is this what Celestia had to endure while she was princess?" the musician thought. "It's so damn boring."
A few minutes passed, and Octavia was soon passing time by sketching a picture of herself and her friend, Vinyl Scratch; they were smiling, with Octavia playing her cello and Vinyl rocking out with her headphones planted firmly over both of her ears. The piece, however, nice as it was at the time, was still really nothing more than a reminder of what she'd lost and wished was still around.
"Vinyl, I wish I had more tears to shed, but I lost them all to time. I want to remember our time together but the war... the war just keeps crawling back in to my mind. I want to forget it. Forget it all and just go back to the days of - "
Octavia stopped herself, feeling a slight breeze run across her coat. She looked towards the windows, but they were perfectly intact, same as the walls and furniture in the room. Surely the castle, no matter how old, would have been constructed so as to keep stray breezes out, which would have made what just happened make even less sense.
Maybe Octavia was just finally starting to go crazy.
" - old," she finished.
Octavia looked around the room, but still, nothing was different within her sight.
"I suppose I'm just imagining things," she said, a hint of nervousness creeping in to her voice.
"Perhaps..."
"Who's there?!" Octavia shouted at the disembodied voice, frantically searching for a point of origin.
"Oh, no one important... or, at least to your Goddess and Princesses, I'm not all that important."
"'Goddess'? I know who the Princesses are, Celestia and Luna, but who is this 'Goddess' you're referring to?" Octavia asked, her curiosity slowly replacing fear.
"Is that really what you want to know right now? Perhaps instead you would like to know where Luna and Celestia are? Or where your peoples' 'Mane Six' are? I would have guessed that those would be the more pressing questions, especially given your circumstances, wouldn't you say?"
Octavia threw a questionable look out in to the empty room.
"Well, very well, go on."
"Smart girl, and you will get those answers, but not just yet. Let us first get to know each other, because I believe that you and me are going to be... talking... for quite a while. So, please, why don't you start us off."
Octavia was confused by this mysterious voice, but at least she was no longer alone, even if it was just something in her head; she was more relieved by the fact that it finally showed itself. Not wanting to be rude then to who or whatever the voice might be, she gave a quick sigh and cleared her throat.
"My name is Octavia Melody. I am twenty-three years old, and I play the cello, specifically for special events, such as the Grand Galloping Gala or any other myriad of important celebrations. My roommate, or rather, 'former roommate', I guess, was Vinyl Scratch, who - "
"I see," the mysterious voice sad, cutting off the mare mid-thought. "Let me ask you something then, Ms. Octavia: does this remind you of her?"
"Huh?" Octavia asked. She looked around and even behind herself, but managed to find nothing.
Once she turned back towards the door though, she saw a cloaked figure glaring at her from the opposite end of the hall. Right off the bat, she noticed strands of light-blue hair sticking out from underneath the cloak, and swore to see white hooves poking out of the openings towards the bottom. Clasped around it's arm, however, was the figure's most distinct and terrifying feature: a brittle scythe with a long and sharpened blade, and it was pointed right in her direction.
Her eyes widened as she glimpsed her future on the clean base of the blade; it was a truly horrible fate, one that could only come from a full life of nothing but despair and depression. For a very brief moment though, despite all that was happening in the moment, Octavia actually thought it was kind of funny how, despite all the death and destruction she'd seen and lived through, she didn't really want to die. However, as she looked out upon the blade and its quickly approaching wielder, she realized that she couldn't escape it all now that she'd seen it.
"Who are you?!" she asked, her voice giving out on her for the first time in a long while.
The figure stopped just short of her, then simply chuckled before removing its hood to reveal its identity to a beyond shocked and confused Octavia.
"It can't be... Vinyl?"
