No one knows if there is afterlife. Using logic and science, a conclusion can be made that there is no such thing. Bodies rot in earth, eaten by worms, and that's all there is to it. As soon as the brain shuts down, the person disappeares, ceases to exist in mind. They will experience nothing and they won't even realize it.

However, many people believe there is afterlife. Some believe in heaven and hell, the judgement of some god that decides who goes where. Others believe in reincarnation, which may or may not depend on person's actions before death. If they were a good person — they're reborn into majestic creatures or back into a human body. If said person was bad — they become a lowly creature, forever to crawl in mud.

Some people even believe they will travel through worlds or maybe even reach ascension, become above all living, maybe even become gods and spirits beyond simple human understanding.

However, none of the theories have been proven yet. Proving them would be very difficult if even possible, and infallible concepts are what humans can come up with easily. But what if an unstoppable force meets an immovable obstacle? What if an omnipotent being creates something it can't influence? What will happen then?

In the end, they are all theories. Some have deep basis in religious beliefs, others are random thoughts during a drinking contest.

All of it connects with fear of death. Hope of staying alive for just a while longer, and that hope many humans share in their denial of death.

A few people hope that there is nothing after it, for that is all they desire.

It might be even called not having hope at all.

The royal sisters were in the throne room. It was early morning, and the two gathered to prepare for the daily court as well as discuss a few things before it.

"How is Sirius?" Celestia asked as she placed a stack of papers near her throne.

"He has stabilized. He is no longer dying." Luna replied. "Something has changed inside him, stopping or greatly slowing down the process of..." she paused, her eyes looking slightly to the right. "Dying, for the lack of better world. His body was consuming itself for a reason I still don't clearly see. I suspect it is the result of amulet's influence, but I can be wrong." she moved a small table to her own throne, adjusting it just the right way.

"How is Iclyn? Is she alright?" the princess of the day asked with worry.

"I'm greatly worried about her, truth be told." Luna admitted, and then sighed. "However, there's nothing I can do right now. Separating her mind from his can result in permanent damage to both. Making someone else enter Sirius' mind would most likely result in his mind shattering. It's unstable enough as it is."

"What about the Elements of Harmony, sister? They have..." Celestia trailed off, pain appearing in her eyes as they crossed Luna. "No, forget it." she said, looking down at the floor. "They... won't truly help."

Heavy silence took the reins as the two sisters thought, not looking at each-other. They silently decided to continue their preparations without talking for just some time.

Anastasia was sitting on the porch of the mansion, a photograph in her magical grasp. Her ears were slightly down, her back rounded, her eyelids slightly low. She felt cold, and so a scarf was wrapped around her neck, making her feel slightly better.

She looked at the photo of herself and Stanislav. It was early autumn, some of the leaves were gaining their beautiful colors. The two were standing under a tree, smiles on their faces. Stanislav's hand was very close to Anastasia's but didn't touch it, his green eyes turned slightly towards her. His pretty long hair was neatly combed back and put behind the ears, the sun making it look like it was dark-red in color. His smile was wide and sincere, the eyes reflecting his warm feelings. Anastasia bore a crown of different leaves on her head. It almost looked like it was golden, and her hair looked majestic under the rays of the sun.

The girl remembered that moment clearly as if it happened just a few days ago. She and Stanislav were just thirteen years old back then, their friendship going strong for almost an entire year. They were taking a walk through the forest, chatting about different things.

"I have an idea, Nastya." Stanislav said, looking around. "Why not we make a crown of leaves? They look beautiful!" he paused for a second, a small blush appearing on his cheeks. "That way, you'll be a queen."

"Yeah, it will be fun!" Anastasia nodded eagerly, beginning to look around for good leaves. "And you could be a king!"

"I... I, uh..." Stanislav stuttered, his cheeks flushing with colors as he turned away. "I'll be your knight. I don't need, um, a crown."

"Alright!" the girl replied, and then picked up a big red leaf. "This looks good! What do you think?"

"Well..." the boy turned around, and his eyes widened. "Wow, that's a good leaf! It looks like... You know, a ruby! It'll look beautiful in the center of the crown!"

And so, the two spent an entire hour searching for the best leaves possible, Stanislav doing most of the work. After the needed amount of quality leaves were found, the boy pretty easily constructed the crown using his own hat to tuck in leaves, making them stay in place. When all was done, he used his phone to take a picture of them both, together.

Back then, she didn't even suspect him of loving her. However, his care showed through actions, and it all pieced together and made her understood everything. It was too late.

She sighed wearily, putting the photograph away. It brought her pain, especially after knowing that he later committed suicide.

Anastasia didn't know whom to blame. She knew he was bullied, had mental issues, and then was rejected by her. Was she to blame for his state? If not, who was?

She just didn't know.

Iclyn followed Sirius as he went into the forest. Fresh snow was crunching under his boots, his breath left clouds of vapor, and something heavy weighed down his backpack, forcing him to adjust the straps every so often. He stared dead ahead, his fists clenched in his pockets as he tried to keep himself warm.

The pegasus didn't know where he was going. Just ten minutes before that, he had suddenly gotten up from his bed and put on his clothes, heading outside the house soon after. There was no reason that Iclyn could see at that time, but she decided to follow him.

Soon, Stanislav stopped near a tree. He looked around, anxiety flashing in his eyes, but then replaced with immense anger. Fire of hatred rose within him as he hit the tree with his fist, shouting loudly and without restraint. No words, only animalistic roars and growls as he punched the tree until blood was streamed from his ruptured knuckles.

Breathing heavily, he shook his hands, splattering blood on himself and the snow. Hissing in pain, he took off the backpack and threw it on the ground. He pulled out an axe: a large one with a wooden handle, and then he kicked the backpack away. Letting out a roar, Stanislav swung the axe at the tree, deeply biting into the wood. He brought the axe back and swung again. And again, and again, and again. A strike after strike, a yell of anger after yell of anger, repeating sounds of metal going through wood, biting into it like a rabid dog bites into flesh. Tear the chunks out of the tree, splinters flying everywhere. He didn't stop until his hands dropped the axe from exhaustion. With a heavy and shaky sigh, he fell on the ground, all his strength gone.

His eyes were open wide, tearing up as he stared at the treetops above himself. No leaves, just wood in shades of brown. Dark and uninviting, sharp and rigid. His eyes shifted towards the gray skies. The sun couldn't be seen at all, and the clouds were covering everything completely, blocking each and every ray of light. He blinked slowly, his tears rolling down his cheeks. He found calm in the quiet of the forest. He felt warm as he lay there in snow, subduing his breath.

He closed his eyes, letting out a deep exhale, a cloud of vapor rising into the skies. He wanted to continue lying on what felt like the softest mattress, covered by the warmest, most comfortable blanket. A pillow made of clouds, so light and soft. He relaxed, snuggling into the snow.

Iclyn stood above him, looking at him with pity. The boy was already broken. Rage, hatred, fear, sadness, all of it was boiling inside him, and he let it out in the most violent way. A mess of feelings and emotions, and no serenity. Anger prevailed, hatred sizzling inside him, bubbling like magma, ready to erupt and cause havoc.

Stanislav opened his eyes and stared into the infinity of gray. It captured his vision, magnetized him, making him continue looking as if he was searching for something.

"I'm so sorry, dad..." he whispered. He sat up, burying his hands in the snow. It began to sting slightly as it melted on his skin. "I did a bad thing... But he took your life. H-he deserved to die, and you didn't." the boy swallowed the lump in his throat as he forced himself to get up.

He picked up the axe. He tightened his grip on it as rage appeared on his face again, twisting it into a hateful scowl.

"And I hate him!" he shouted, and then started hacking at the tree with a powerful roar.

Iclyn watched as the scene changed. Stanislav was not swinging the axe at the tree but at the man, the one who drove his car into Stas' family. Horrifying wounds appeared on his body, blood streaming and dripping onto the snow, tainting it with red. The man couldn't move as his arms were chopped off, then the legs, and then each bone was crushed until there was nothing left but a pile of bones, flesh, skin, and some hair.

Just like Stanislav's father was in the crash.

The boy stopped, dropping the axe and covering the face with his hands. The man became a tree again as Stanislav fell on his knees, holding his face while he cried without restraint, howling in his pain. Arcing his back, he rapidly breathed and sobbed, his vision becoming blurry with tears covering his eyes. He buried his hands in the snow, crying out in suffering. He was barely able to breathe as he hyperventilated through his mouth, and he couldn't stop.

Iclyn went in to hug him, give him warmth and comfort, but she couldn't touch him. It was a memory, and she couldn't change it just as she couldn't fix Sirius' path.

She could do nothing but watch as he fell into the snow, his fists clenching and unclenching, his whole body shaking as he cried.

Minutes later, he finally stopped. He was shivering, sniffing. He slowly got up, picked up the axe and put it into his backpack that he quickly retrieved. He put the backpack on and headed back to the house, following his own marks in the snow.

Iclyn sighed deeply, joining him.

The wind began howling, blowing snow into her face. She felt like she was being watched.

Stanislav walked and sniffed, his figure slouched. He wanted to return home and sleep. Forget about all that has happened. Maybe have his father back. Have a friend to share the pain with. But whom to trust? He could trust his mother but she was already stressed, he had a heart to not put more weight on her weary shoulders.

Iclyn realized that he needed company. As far as she knew, he latter got it. However, even it didn't help in the end. If it did, the pegasus wouldn't even think about Sirius' existence. She would've never known him, and he would've never known her in turn. They would've lived their lives peacefully, at least more so than they were.

But if she knew one thing, it was this — she was witnessing his depression forming, the basis of it being his anger issues and his father's tragic death.

Iclyn had never expected anything like it.

Would she be even able to help someone as troubled as him? Even then, it wasn't the end. Those were just his early years, but what happened next?

Iclyn believed it was something even worse.

Author's Notes:

https://youtu.be/A5GUZidwIvA

As my own mental state deteriorates after some realizations come to me, I think this chapter is most fitting to present the mental struggle of the main protagonist during his early years.