Mid-Morning
April 10th, 71 BNM
Citadel Ruins, mountainside

5 days since its fall, and the Citadel was unrecognisable. Quite frankly, the entire valley now looked as if a giant hand had crashed into one mountain ridge and ploughed it across, making the lake empty and render the valley into a narrower state, only a wild river left now that was slowly forging its new path.
Flying overhead, the Royalist scout pegasi had taken their search of the ruins, of this newly formed shallow mountainside.
Aside from telling cartographers that this Valley would need remapping in time, there was nothing that could be truly discerned of what exactly happened here, apart from utter devastation of the Citadel. Only a few fragmentary structures poked through the hillside.
Underground was where the only intact structures were, and within them, the number of surviving ponies was about to dwindle to zero.
But that did not mean the Citadel’s ruins were unoccupied.

Meanwhile
Citadel ruins, underground entrance labyrinth

Tacit Scrivener would have moaned in hopelessness at the sight that befell him this morning, though the state of his situation had long grown old over the past 2 days.
The labyrinth’s entrance, so close to the exit, had caved in. He was trapped. He’d found out as such when he finally summoned the courage, and enough knowledge of where was caved in and where wasn’t.
And all the while the whispers, the presences, had made him scared to remain in the Citadel right up until his advance through the labyrinth. They were sinister, not his master Siral, but his demon hordes he had under his service set loose in wake of his death.
The Labyrinth was only a maze trying to enter, but exiting the Citadel it was a straight shot, like tracing a thin twig to the trunk of a tree. But that ease was rendered pointless by the collapse of the tunnel shortly after the last fork in the road if coming the other way, where magical diseases, demon hives and plummets to dark abysses awaited.
The Unicorn had slumped beside the caved in wall, only the faintest of flickering lights from his horn illuminating him inside the tunnel.
Wearily, as if it were a last comfort, he looked over his journal entries, one per day since the Fortress fell 5 days ago.
7 April
-I feel something following me, it beckons me to rest, to, surrender. I must get out.
8 April
-The tunnel is shut. I have seen no one else, my magic can light my impending tomb for only so long.
9 April
-The presences return, the voices. They're calling out to me in the dark when I wake, when I sleep. My hours awake grow shorter each time I rest.
Lightly stroking his journal with his hoof, Tacit’s ears slumped, wondering why him of all those to survive.
As the whispers grew in the tunnel, Tacit scrunched his eyes shut, the gnawing whispers echoing up the tunnel as always.
Yet suddenly, they ceased. His eyes flickering open slightly, Tacit’s unicorn magic light shone down the tunnel.
The magic light he shone revealed nothing in the tunnel, just the wet dripping echoing in the darkness from a small stream that had formed overhead in the ruined hillsides.
With a sigh, he dimmed his light, turning away as he resumed his biding of time. But out of the corner of his eye, he saw somepony in the tunnel.
Barely illuminated by his magic light now, a Unicorn, black as the darkness in the tunnel, and sporting familiar scars and grey eyes.
Breathing turning shallow, Tacit flared his magic light again, only to see the elder black Unicorn vanish. But the silence reigned in the tunnel.
Timidly, as he dimmed the magic light, he noticed something that made his heart stop. The Unicorn silhouette returned as the light only barely lit up the tunnels, an outline at best. But on the ground, what looked like shadow and black smoke began to slowly seep towards it, as if it were gathering the dark forces to itself. The grey eyes twinkled in the tunnel before dimming entirely.
The demonic whispering returned, as a new voice gave them purpose, gave them order.
Servite dominum tuum.
Servite dominum tuum.
As the chanting echoed more and more, growing clearer with each moment, Tacit Scrivener hung his head, uncertain of his fate.
Opening his journal, he used his magic to write one last entry.
-The master has found me. My time is done.
Slowly shutting the journal, Tacit glanced up.
Grey eyes stared into him from the darkness, as he felt the choking pull of the Savant’s magic consume him.

Beside him, the satchel of Alicorn amulets was consumed as well, their magic bursting from them to dissipate throughout the Citadel like the finest of mists in the air.
As the fine powder smoke of the reclaimed Alicorn magic spread through the darkened catacombs and labyrinth, the colours they once had slowly turned grey, then as black as the darkness that now filled the underground chambers.
The Savant lay in waiting, growing, regaining himself before anything else.

April 13th, 71 BNM
Early Morning
Nokotaford, Royal Palace
Barracks, sparring ground

Swinging his swords, both his old Katana and the new green one forged from Everfree’s gifted tool, Chack focused his mind on improving his dual wielding.
The news had come, and of them all, Chack didn’t quite know what to make of it. Being from Salaman, he didn’t feel as much of a personal stake. But given he’d faced some of the beings now running loose out there unseen in battle, he was loathe to take this as a blessing.
The wooden post thudded as Chack’s blade slashed it again, the Salamander backing up as he calmed his breathing, turning around while slowly spinning his blade in his hand to a backhand slash, deep in thought.
Thinking it over, he recalled the one his knowledge, and magical weapon’s insight, told him of the being of Envy, that strange centaur shaped hybrid with a scorpion’s lower body and an ape torso with draconian limbs, and 4 Unicorn horns as a headdress of sorts.
Trying to imagine her, one who had an odd and unexplained disdain for him, Chack hurled both his swords around to double slice the wooden post.
Chack.
As a voice suddenly interrupted him, an image of a wooden formed Alicorn face seemed to emboss itself on the wooden post, as Chack’s shocked expression was coupled with both his swords barely stopping from hitting the post, quivering as they were within a few inches of it.
At seeing Everfree on the post, Chack cautiously lowered his swords, blinking a few times before asking himself more than Everfree’s image:
“I might not be getting enough sleep…”
You are correct, but this is real regardless, to you at least. To others you would appear to be speaking to a normal wooden post.
Giving a slight snort, Chack turned away from the post, sheathing his normal sword and shrinking his green magic sword to its small cylinder shape:
“What do you want? Siral’s gone, they’re running amok, unorganized and more easy to pick off when found.”
But they have yet to be found. It does not take an Alicorn turned immortal forest spirit to see that they are waiting for something. At least, the ones with more sinister intent. Some of them are more peaceful at heart, but what ones aren’t are too great to ignore.
“Believe me, if I knew where even one of them was I’d be leaving to get them. I failed at Tartarus because it wasn’t one on one, but if I can just find one alone…”
At this, Everfree’s visage on the wooden post narrowed its wooden eyes, as the voice rang in Chack’s head as he began to walk over to a nearby bench, wishing to polish his armour.
The Being of Envy. You notice her more open disdain for you compared to the rest.
“If I can get any of them to fight me one on one long enough to finally end them, it is her, whomever she is.”
As he grabbed the polishing kit, Chack’s eyes suddenly narrowed slowly, as he turned to look at the wooden post, and Everfree’s face within it:
“You know where one of them is…”
Not the one you seek, but Gluttony and Lust. They travel together, but only they have travelled near enough to my domain when they fled for me to track them. Eyes and ears among the birds of Everfree serve this well.
“Where?”
Baltimare. They have been there in secret for a while, before the Citadel’s fall, and for nearly all the time that has passed since. As to why, I do not know.
“The Nationalist capital right now…”
Chack mumbled to himself as he thought about this, while he looked down at his green cylindrical tool, pondering this news.
“I promised Aubelles we would have words about everything anyway. I know he will be there if anywhere.”
It wasn’t long before the Salamander was off to his quarters, readying for a long journey.

Late Afternoon
Royal palace, entrance grounds

Walking alone the paved ‘driveway’ of the palace, the road where the carriages normally pulled up, the blue robed Wizard and the dark red armoured Salamander spoke with a friendly atmosphere.
“Do have safe travels. From what I gather those two are not quite as dangerous as some of the others, but do be careful not to underestimate them.”
Starswirl’s words were received with a slight laugh from Chack, who merely remarked to the Wizard:
“I guess it is fortunate they all decided to split up. Besides, if they’re anything like that one, Sloth’s being wasn’t it? The Windigo looking female… I may not need to kill them.”
“True, only one to ensure Siral can’t have all of them as the warnings showed, prophecy or from Everfree.”
“Well he won’t be around to complain if I do have to off them, will he?”
“No, no.” Starswirl said quietly, thinking on Chack’s words for a moment. He seemed very puzzled as Chack then turned to extend a hand, his semi fin/fingers extended out as he politely remarked:
“Goodbye Starswirl. Until we meet again, hopefully not too long, Baltimare’s a rather stuck up city since the Nationalists moved in if the peasants there are correct.”
Snapping from his thoughts, Starswirl extended a hoof, shaking with the Salamander right before letting go. Shuffling his bag of equipment for travels, the Salamander pulled out his green cylindrical weapon from Everfree, beginning to charge it for the travels.
“I meant to ask, why is it exactly that Everfree chose you for this role as, a soldier basically?”
“The Everfree forest has no stake in Equestria except for the larger scale threats. I’m a foreigner, so I am similar in that regard. His words, not mine. I say for the best, given how busy a Wizard of the Royalists likely can get.”
“Too true…” Stasrwirl remarked quietly, as he saw Chack begin to glow green, before giving a swift low bow as the green light from his tool engulfed him.
In a green flash of teleportation, Chack was gone, making his way east to Baltimare, Nationalist territory.
But as Stasrwirl turned, he was deep in thought, putting a hoof to his head as he thought over everything. Chack’s conversation had put things into perspective, and Starswirl required some time alone.
Without a word, the Wizard began to walk away from the palace, into Nokotaford’s town centre.

Next day
April 14th, 71 BNM
Early Morning
Nokotaford, blue lion tavern

Starswirl didn’t return that night, and wasn’t found until the next day.
The guard ponies found him, a dishevelled robe with a crumpled heap of a Unicorn lying in the back alley, many bottles around him. He smelt horrible, of at least half a brewery as one guard remarked when they recovered the Wizard from his own mess in the back alley.
It didn’t take long for them to bring the badly hungover Wizard back to the palace, neither did it take long for word to spread to Queen Aurora of this ‘episode’ of the high ranking Wizard and confidant she had. At this point, given how news of the Citadel would have been thought to be good news in her eyes, this was deeply troubling.

Mid-Morning
Queen Aurora’s private quarters

Her magic sitting Starswirl on a nearby couch, the Unicorn Wizard still very unsteady and sporting a large headache, the Queen sat down on a cushion behind her private dining table, her expression nearly as black as her usual attire:
“I cancelled my morning meetings to sort this all out, just for your information. What is this all about Starswirl? I realise you are stressed about a great many things relating to this, prophecy, and long history. But you have never taken to drinking yourself into a deep sleep that not even sailors could muster before now.”
His blue magic flickering as he kept his concentration up, Starswirl took out his normal pipe and weed, his utterly self-ruined state being tolerated this once by the stern queen as he lit it up, puffing slightly as the magical pipe weed calmed his mind.
Looking down, he simply remarked:
“How much more was a lie I lived my life in heed of?”
“Pardon?” Queen Aurora sat back slightly, her annoyance and worry giving way to a perplexed mood at Starswirl’s utterance. The Wizard continued, puffing on his pipe every sentence:
“That Prophecy warned of the beings… I received that vision from the Forest spirit I told you of, the one Chack has recently been contacted by to leave, tracking two of them in Baltimare. But those visions told of them all united, under Siral…”
“And now that Siral is gone, you doubt that foretelling?” Aurora suggested, beginning to see exactly what had riled up Starswirl enough to prompt a drinking episode even a drunken wretch would be unnerved by.
“Those beings, they weren’t what the Prophecy stated. Hell, one of them even came to me begging for help before this whole rebellion, one of the Beings! They rebelled against their master, they haven’t actually done anything yet without Siral ordering them, and I doubt they’d do anything he wanted after he was outed…”
“If Siral had not been turned, ruined, none of this with those seven would be happening. If he was not what he was, he wouldn’t have engineered this second phase of the Civil War. The first part that ended in an unsteady truce, that was not his doing. But this section, the devastation, Canterlot, Tartarus, Baltimare, all of it, he was pushing the pieces, manipulating or outright acting through them…”
As he paused, Queen Aurora looked down slightly, her face going hard as a memory of the rumbles and screams of Canterlot’s attack echoed in her mind, of the hum of the yellow beams of the attack that killed her husband, the crash of the palace being taken down the mountainside.
“Siral was my friend… And had he not heard the Prophecy, he wouldn’t have been curious to come with me. Had the prophecy not been heard by me, I wouldn’t have left, and in turn he wouldn’t have. They would never have been turned into those monsters. Siral would never have turned as he did, and this Civil War may have ended with that truce and so many would still be alive, your husband included…”
As he spoke, Aurora was somewhat shocked, even in her colder state since her husband’s death, at how bitter Stasrwirl’s voice was becoming now.
“If those Oracles had never spoken those accursed words, spelt out my destiny for me and made me feel I had to, none of this would be happening. The very idea of a potential threat put me, and Siral, on paths that would see him changed, and this happen.”
“And for what? The lessons I picked up from the 5 I have met before Chack have so far proven ineffective or inapplicable in this whole mess. I do not blame Chack for not being an exemplar of Kindness anymore, I see no gains to be had when it is a mess I am responsible for in part…”
“Starswirl…” Queen Aurora began quietly, but she was cut off as Starswirl finished his rambling, his voice turning cold as he spoke more to himself now, hooves trembling as he finished his self-loathing rant.
“But the worst part about all of this is, to me, is that after all this, knowing Siral was just as much a victim of this, LIE, I foolishly followed as destiny, that I do not feel worse. He was one of my oldest friends, even before the Prophecy, and I didn’t trust him enough because of a single line the Prophecy said warning of close help… Should I not feel more pity for what has become of him, what his servants he created did to him, servants he would never have been compelled by paranoia and a desire for safety in power to create were it not for that damn prophecy?”
Looking at Queen Aurora now, the Wizard she’d known for being wise, calm, and at times grumpy and withdrawn, looking utterly lost and ashamed:
“What does that say about me as a pony? I lost my closest and oldest friend in following a destiny I was told, not made myself, he was victim of it himself, and I don’t feel sorry for his fate…”
Staring at Starswirl, Aurora’s expression turned softer, as her now even rarer occurrences of feeling sympathy for others began to surface. But even with her sympathy, she couldn’t fully break from her abrasive nature:
“We all have things to mourn Starswirl, you are not unique in this regard. All your situation has over others is in the details.”
The Wizard said nothing as his head was low, looking at the floor as the Queen then spoke softer now, recalling:
“I try to keep in mind myself, even if outwardly I am admittedly colder since Nova’s death, to remember the times I had with him.”
“I am certain Siral was a good pony once, nopony is born evil. You don’t know whether to mourn because of what he became, or because you feel you did it to him. Grief and guilt are separate things after all, but they can lead to each other if you let it take hold.”
“I can’t give you the answers you want, only you can know that. But just keep memories of Siral from how he once was, and accept that at least now, he is at peace.”
Queen Aurora words rang in Starswirl’s head, but the Wizard slowly looked up at her with a small smile as he did try to keep in mind:
“If only he was still around as he once was, your husband too. I expect they would have got on rather well once Siral got over his initial antisocial behaviour.”
“Tell me more.” Aurora offered with a small smile, sitting back on her own seat as Starswirl sat back on the couch, talking of his times with Siral, before the Prophecy. By the time that came, when Starswirl was 150 and Siral was 90, they had been through much already, more peaceful times, better times, times determined by themselves and not by prophecy.

729 years ago

12th March, 800 BNM
Evening/Nightfall
Oracle Mount
Monastary mountainside

“By that time, if you and I are still around, I wonder where we shall a stand compared to them? Perhaps greater than I can conceive if they catch up to us, Starswirl the Bearded and Siral the Savant.”
Laughing slightly, Starswirl took another puff on his pipe, remarking: “Your grandiose predictions of the future can match the oracles at times Siral.”
As Siral shot Starswirl a sour look at deflating his thoughts of potential, as Starswirl blew a magic imbued puff from his mouth, the pipe weed smoking slightly as the puff of smoke spun in the air to reveal a wispy Pegasus shape flying towards the sky, trailing out beneath the hanging half moon on the horizon.
Staring out, Starswirl heard Siral murmur: “So, did you get asked to be here, or are you here just to catch up like I am?”
“Actually, I was asked for by the Oracles themselves. You were not?”
“No, and I don’t wish to know the future in advance. I make my own future.”

Author's Notes:

A transitional chapter, also insight into an epiphany moment from Starswirl about the whole joke of a Prophecy, and how by its very existence it screwed up so much.
This is an overall warning theme of this story, warning against predetermined destiny, how it corrupts free will and behaviour of otherwise decent people, or ponies in this case. An Anti-prophecy message, as not everything has unfolded as predicted, some things not useful yet, others not happening as predicted at all.
But as for the Seven, the first to be tackled as to their fates will be the beings of Lust and Gluttony.