All actions have consequences. All consequences are actions. Whatever we may do, the cycle can never be broken. Acting causes just as much interference as inaction. Time is not as a river, but a trickle of water that follows the path of least resistance. Our actions shape the field before it, and so shape it’s flow. Even the most minute change can alter it’s path, and those with the greatest impact force it’s direction towards them, though not necessarily towards their goal. But what do time and consequences know of themselves? Do they understand their own consequences? Does the flow of time in turn shape us, as we shape it? Or perhaps consequences themselves are what shape the reverse-flow of shaping the decisions we make through time?
...or perhaps I am the fool, spending millenia contemplating all of what has lead me to this moment. To this truth. To this being. To this me.
Yet, despite my efforts, my time and actions are locked behind my consequences. I cannot change, for I have inferred too much of my presence upon time itself for reality to alter my path. I carved one of the deepest trenches for the flow of time to follow, even Eternity himself could not change my fate. Though even if it were possible, would I? I have simulated this world of variables to the extent where the margin of error is almost nonexistent, to the effect of no external interference upon the recreation. Each and every time it returns the same result: for myself to have died, my death would bring the world’s end. For me to have changed, my alteration would bring the world’s end. For me to be different... only one could have taken my place, at a time so long ago that it is impossible to program her into any simulation. All I have left of her are memories...
‘.........’
...and a message.
‘......’
Someone appears to be attempting to contact me. Their magical signature reminiscent of their mother’s... it has to be one of Fausts’ daughters, Celestia or Luna. Perhaps both... though the signal is beyond weak. Something must have happened for them to not resemble even a fraction of their mother’s power after all these years.
‘...pl...se.....lp us...’
I made a promise to Faust when I left that should she or her descendants call upon me I would return to aid them, despite my lack of conclusions in the matter I left to meditate upon. And I keep my promises... to the greatest extent that I am able. Even I struggle to keep all of them at times.
I open my eyes for the first time in nearly four thousand years and break the seal of stone-like dust that has settled upon my body. I rise from the ground on which I meditated and stood, stretching my neck and feeling my magic as it flowed through me. It appears as though I’ve let it build up to a large extent while my focus was diverted.
I raise my head towards the sky and stretch out, summoning the excess magic within me and propelling it outwards in a shockwave of raw mana. But time cannot be wasted if my aid is required. I do not know of her daughters, but I know Faust would not call upon me unless in the most dire of situations- something I was concerned about as this could lead her into dire trouble which could have been avoided should I have been called upon sooner, if I am even called upon at all. Faust would normally never bother to inform nor involve me in matters she believed were capable of being handled without my interference.
Focusing on the signal, I lock onto Luna’s coordinates and cloak myself in a guise that would be more approachable for those of this era before I teleport through the barriers that separate my location from hers.
Arriving under the shroud of a basic matrix crafted from numerous anti-detection and invisibility magical effects, I take but a moment to observe my surroundings.
Mountain- geographically, Canterlot Mt. -therefore, the city must be Canterlot, though much time has passed and it has been entirely remade from the last time I was here- each building less than a millennia old suggesting it was rebuilt from the ruins of the old city, likely for its value to Fausts’ daughters. The sky is dark; total solar eclipse; clouds are under the Killkrar effect, spiraling above a powerful source of magical energy which is currently the pseudocorn that at this moment possesses Discord’s magic, as well as a sizable amount of alicorn and necromantic magic. There are another 2 pseudocorns nearby; one mulberry and the other cerise in color; with Celestia and Luna standing alongside them, as well as several ponies- all of them facing down the pseudocorn before them. Luna, standing near the back, is whispering the call I can still hear in my mind to summon my presence.
The ponies and the mulberry pseudocorn each resonate with a form of harmonic magik; though it is odd that they only have access to pieces of it’s full potential, unless they are simply utilizing an artefact powered by a fragment of harmonic magik. Likely, given the meteor shards still scattered around the world; some of their locations unknown to me even after the four hundred thousand years since they were formed.
Other than the traces of harmonic magik, there is not much adding to their power. None of them possess the capabilities to take on the pseudocorn before them, though Celestia and Luna both should have been easily capable of taking her on without assistance... I don’t think they continued their magical training for very long, perhaps they never even started at all. Their potential maximum magical power is far too weak for beings of their bloodline- or for alicorns in general. Even the mulberry pseudocorn by their side surpasses them.
It’s no wonder they require my help.
Under normal circumstances I would not invade the mental privacy of those I have just met, however this situation calls for more knowledge than I alone possess, and within the blink of an eye I know their experiences from the last four thousand years...
...princesses, ey? Interesting, though it means that they cannot overrule their mother’s laws and commandments from their rank, I can see why they would do such a thing... I did similar myself, once upon a time...... so, Twilight... they wish to make her sole princess and ruler of Equestria... This is troubling, to say the least. No one but a descendant of alicorn blood whom bears the given traits of alicorn-kind can sit upon the throne of Equestria- I should know, given that it was one of the 12 I created for the kingdoms of Equis millennia ago. So long as a single alicorn descendant of the royal bloodline lives, the throne of Equestria belongs to them and them alone.
Hm... so Cozy Glow wishes to conquer Equestria... this is going to be a fun way to introduce “myself”. Just like the old times...
Teleporting behind the gathering of allies opposed to Cozy, I drop my matrix and wait for the right moment to speak up. Given the thoughts of the ponies and alicorns before me, it should only take a few moments. Centuries of practice honing the skills taught to me by the raiju species many ages ago allows me to almost visibly detect the intent coming from everyone present, the tense atmosphere surrounding them right to snap.
‘You’ll never get away with this! Equestria isn’t yours, it belongs to the Princesses!’ shouted the one known as Rainbow.
‘And why not?’ I asked, having altered my guise to that of an ordinary pony so as not to detract their main focus from the situation at limb. ‘I see no reason why Cozy shouldn’t be allowed to sit upon the throne... not that she would be capable of such a feat, even if nopony stood in her way.’ Why must they use words such as “nopony” “somepony” and “everypony”? It’s speciesist. Even Faust knew that, and it hasn't been that long since then.
‘Wha-? But-!’ Rainbow attempts to recover from my sudden appearance as Cozy grows angry.
‘Now you’ve made things worse! We should be trying to help her understand what she’s doing is wrong, not enrage her against us! We can still make her see the light!’ Twilight attempted to argue to no avail. I knew what I was doing, and I could see in Cozy’s heart her mind was already long gone. There wasn’t much point in reason now... unless I truly saw fit; but I would prefer to stay my "hand" at this time, as the expression goes, though "limb" would be more sufficient. It should not be what one is, but who- and by extension, what they do -that should be of importance in any given situation. That should be what changes one's mind.
Cozy growled, ‘I’ll show you who can sit on the throne!’ she shouted as she flew off to the throne room. Without missing a beat, I teleported us all there ahead of her arrival to watch her cascade of failures come to an abrupt and meaningful end.
Before anyone could speak up about the teleport; if they would even have formed the will to, instead of simply assuming someone among them had performed the feat instead of myself; Cozy crashed through the window and flew straight to the throne, landing right before it. She turned to us and gave a smug grin before stepping up and onto the glorified chair and sitting down, a malicious and pride-filled grin plastered upon her face.
For a moment nothing happened as no-one in the room knew what to do next, but my expectations were met when the pseudocorn burst into pure black and white flames that fueled themselves with her own magic and began to eat her alive as she screamed in excruciating agony, at least until her lungs ran out of air and refused to take in another breath.
‘Tirek had a little pet, it’s heart was black as coal; it crept into his cell one night, and ate his dam'ned soul. Do not despair oh little Cozy, you death does still have meaning; to think a non-alicorn could sit the throne, surely you must be dreaming. For without blood or natural birth, I can most certainly tell; pseudocorns like you and yours, will only burn in hell,’ I sung the verses, walking forward towards her as the mare’s body began tearing itself into pieces and falling apart. She could still hear me thanks to the magic in my voice, but she wouldn’t for much longer. ‘12 kingdoms of each kind; of the rules they must abide; heirs chosen have certainty; or else end up in purgat’ry; do not think you’ll fool the magic; for those that do have fates most tragic; erased from hist’ry, space, and time; and so now comes your end, as too ends this rhyme.’
The last pieces of Cozy diminished into nothingness as I finished, nodding my head in satisfaction that the deed was done.
‘WHAT IN THE NAMETH OF BLOODY EROC WAST YOND OCCURRENCE?!?!’ Luna voiced.
‘Language, princess! There is no need to call your great grandfather by such a derogatory title!’ I reply in turn, a little offended. Eroc was a merciless tyrant to his subjects, but with the dragon wars in full effect he was forced to reign-in Equestria in order to prevent further needless death. He was actually one of the nicest and most polite ponies you’d ever get the chance to meet, if you got to know him like I did.
‘AND WHAT WOULDST THEE KNOW OF MINETH LINEAGE?!?!’ Luna voiced, reverting to her old mannerisms in shock, ‘AND HOW DIDST THEE KNOWETH OF THAT WHICH WE DIDST NOT CONCERNING OUR OWNETH KINGDOM’S THRONE?!?!’
I paused for a moment in suspense. ‘Because I was there when it was created, when the enchantments upon it were woven into its metal fibers,’ I reply, still appearing as an ordinary pony to them.
‘Then where is the original?’ Celestia questioned.
I raised an eyebrow in subtle mock smugness. ‘This is the original.’
‘...Forgive me, I do not wish to doubt you my little pony, but we have never heard of such magic, and I do not think that any pony, such as yourself, would be capable of living for the tens of thousands of...’ I cut Celestia off as I surround myself with a flourish of magic; simply changing my appearance instantaneously would be a waste. I have to have some dramatic flair, after all.
In moments I stand before them in my original guise- an alicorn, for all intents and purposes. ‘You are right that a pony would not survive that long naturally, however someone such as myself possesses no such issues,’ I bow to the alicorn princesses, ‘Greetings, Princess Solstice Celestiana and Princess Staar Lunarin, daughters and heirs of Queen Loreï Faustus of Equestria. My name is Andromadeus; though I would prefer simply “Andromeda”, if you’d please. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance once again.’
‘Again? I... apologise, but I cannot seem to recall you,’ Celestia tells me, before her sister speaks up, ‘Nor do we- nor do I remember you, either.’
‘That is not very surprising, as it has been many millennia, and last I saw of you two, you were but babes in your mother’s hooves, not even a few years of age.’
The ponies were uttering comments of disbelief and trying to get my attention as the Princesses looked to each other, though I remained silently bowed- it would be impolite to address anyone but the princesses until they have told me to rise.
‘You- you may rise..... You knew of our mother?’ Celestia asks.
I raise myself and respond. ‘I knew her well. She was a strong, kind, and tenacious Queen, and it was my pleasure to work alongside her.’ I raise a hoof to stall the question I can see brewing upon their tongues. ‘Not as equals, but as a friend and ally. Your father, and the consort-king of Equestria was Artur Pendragon. I was merely their advisor, and, should it ever become necessary, their caretaker.’
‘Then why were you-‘ Luna began.
‘Absent?’ She nodded. ‘I...' I look aside - an unnecessary action for me, but a visual cue that aids in understanding while conversing with others through body language- 'needed some time alone. Though as your mother no doubt told you, considering you called me here today, all she needed was to simply call upon me and “I would rend land, sea, sky, and space itself asunder to reach you in your time of need.”’
‘And why should we trust you if she didn't even make you a prince? You’re an alicorn, right? So why would-‘ Rainbow tried to undermine me, but I would have none of it. I would already be pushing their boundaries as is, I didn’t need an idiot’s ramblings on top of that.
I looked her dead in the eyes when I spoke, ‘Because I declined. After Fausts’ parents died when she was only 9, I stewarded Equestria whilst raising her in their absence as if she were my own daughter. When she came of age, she insisted I take the throne instead of her. It took several months of convincing before she was willing to go through with her own coronation.’
‘But, why? Anypony would love to have that kind of power, and you were already stewarding-‘ I cut Applejack off.
‘I have my reasons, and they are none of your concern. All you need to know is that it is not my place to take up such a title. The Equestrian throne was designed for those of the alicorn bloodline, not for a relic of an age long past such as myself.’
There were some others speaking, but my attention was once more focused on the alicorns. I could almost feel their thoughts as they processed of the situation.
‘Are you suggesting that only a pony that is born an alicorn can sit upon the throne?’ Celestia questioned.
‘No,’ I could almost see her sigh in relief, ‘I am stating that only an alicorn of your bloodline can rule Equestria; or be considered anything more than an honorary member of royalty for that matter. If none were to remain, the only beings that could take up the throne are non-alicorns of your bloodline or those that are alicorns by natural birth.’
Celestia paled the slightest extent, as did Luna.
‘Wait,’ Twilight spike up, ‘so... your saying I’m not even a princess?’
‘You, Miss Sparkle, are not even an alicorn.’ Gasps were heard around the room. ‘What you really are is what has been dubbed a “pseudocorn”: a pony that has adopted alicorn traits and abilities, yet retains their pony blood. You and Miss Cadenza are honorary royalty at best, and cannot ascend in rank past such. If either of you were to attempt laying claim and sitting upon the throne, even with such a title, the same would happen to you as did to Miss Glow, save for it being your hide burning, instead of hers.’
Many in the room blanched at that statement.
‘So, there is nothing...?’ Celestia began.
‘Nothing. Only an alicorn of descendant blood may sit upon Equestria’s throne- and there are only two such beings left: yourselves. Save for any heirs the two of you might conceive, none other may seat the throne.’
‘That explains your reluctance to accept the throne, at least.’ Cadance remarked.
‘If that is what you want believe,’ I reply.
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Rainbow asked. I'm beginning to tire of her arrogance and vigilant attitude.
‘It means that I have reasons that are far removed from such assumptions, but it is easier to say that I could not than to explain the whole truth. Now,’ I cut the conversation off before it could get anymore out of limb, ‘I believe that Canterlot needs my assistance more than you ponies need your questions answered. I will be outside if you need me.’
I gaze over to the window that Cozy broke when she flew into the throne room and coaxed the surrounding area with my magic to revert back and reform as what it had once been. Shards and glass dust began moving in reverse to what happened earlier, and within a second the stained glass was whole again.
Ignoring anything those present said as I left, I walked to the throne room door before teleporting to the castle’s outer gate and gazing over the damaged city below me. With the eclipse in the sky clearing, and the clouds dispersed, ponies have already begun the process of clearing up and rebuilding.
I suppose it’s time that I get to work.
Author's Note
Andromadeus here,
Whilst I have the chance... (no, I’ll take the drort, thanks) Sorry, I’m in the middle of nightGall festival in Brekinsta.
Whilst I have the chance to say something, (thank you) I should appologise for my odd speaking mannerisms. I grew up speaking Eltar-Alcon, or “Original Equish” as it became colloquially known, and had to adapt to each new variation since- including every change in spelling, pronunciation, grammar, a- (yheo, yaltah) -and tone; so I speak and write in an odd way when transcribing to Modern Standard En/Eq (English/Equish).
My deepest apologies for any issues this may cause,
Andromadeus (Yehalo, nehano. Gelebrahn vokhuuna!)
