Epilogue

Thanks to everyone who has ever read or reviewed this story.

Rosie Strider's brain had ceased to function.

She sat on the edge of her bed, clothed in her nightgown, clutching her stuffed murkmonk, and staring at her father with dead eyes. The words that he'd just said had been audible, understandable, coherent and yet none of the above. She had seen his lips move, felt the momentary snap of understanding and then…

Nothing.

Dave was equally motionless. He watched his daughter, hidden behind his tinted glasses, and waited with a tight chest for her to respond. Anything from a feverish denial to furious cursing would do, anything besides the pained confusion resonating from her slack jaw that seemed to break Dave's heart a fraction more with every second that passed.

"I- uh…" Rosie tried.

It all made sense, in a backwards, convoluted sort of way. Rosie didn't look much of anything like her parents. Sure, her hair was dark like Jade's and her skin was pale like Dave's, but her nose was much too small, her cheekbones were much too high, and her violet eyes were, of course, nothing like the shining emeralds or rubies set into her "parents" heroic visages.

There was also the fact that Rosie was a natural-born magic-user, unlike her parents. Rosie was also a single child, whereas Weredogs tended to have litters of pups ranging anywhere in numbers from six to twelve kids a pop. Not to mention the fact that humans turned sprites turned humans were typically infertile. Anyone, who hadn't been lied to their entire lives, probably could have figured out that Rosie was an apple far from the DaveJade tree, hell, she was probably from the next god-damn orchard.

It all made sense and it hurt.

"So… that's the whole story then? You can wrap it up in two words." Rosie swallowed hard and quoted her father: "You're adopted."

"Er, Yeah. I guess so. Although, you have to admit," Dave smirked slightly. "The story was pretty fucking awesome in itself. What kind of father/teacher/story-teller would I be if I didn't heighten the big reveal with twenty four chapters of nonsensical ramblings?"

"I guess not much of one at all." Rosie answered. She looked down at her hands, small and delicate, and picked idly at one of her nails. She was oddly calm about it all, maybe because none of this really felt real. "I- I have a lot of questions."

Dave nodded.

"Well, yeah. No shit. I'd be freaked out if you didn't have questions. But maybe…" He cast a glance towards the door and the people beyond. "Maybe it would be best if I didn't answer them alone."

"Mom's going to be pissed." Rosie muttered. "She didn't want me to know at all, did she?"

"No, she didn't. But now you do know and there can't be a damn thing done about that." Rising from his chair, Dave extended his hand towards his daughter. "Come on. Let's go."

Rosie stared at his proffered hand. It was warm and familiar. She'd spent days wandering the streets, clutching that hand for guidance, looking towards it for a gratifying fist-bump and never really realized what it all was until now.

A big old lie.

And yet, she took the hand anyway and allowed herself to be steered from her bedroom, because she knew, that no matter how angry or hurt or sad she felt, Dave and Jade were probably feeling the same thing. They'd probably felt the same way for the past ten years, as they raised her. And they'd probably feel the same way until the very day they died, probably in a fierce battle with a savage pack of bandit orcs or something.

Also, Rosie wanted answers, and she wasn't going to get them by being an asshole. For now, she'd have to cooperate.

"Hey, you two." Jade grinned brightly when she saw her family step out of the hall. She was sitting on edge of the sofa, whilst Roxy the sexy Werecat occupied the other. They were deep in conversation about one boring adult topic or another. "I thought you were going to bed, Rosie."

"We had a talk instead." Dave answered. His fingers tightened perceptibly around Rosie's. "I, uh… told Rosie the truth about her being adopted and everything."

There was silence for a long moment, and then Jade's eyes narrowed.

The room grew colder, the walls slanted inwards, the lights dimmed, and demons from the depths of hell seemed to claw their way up from their pits of fire, into Jade's absolutely livid gaze, focused solely on Dave Fucking Strider. A little piss may or may not have leaked out of Dave in that moment, as he was faced with the unadulterated bulk of Jade's 'mom-stare', which for those of you who don't know, is some of the most brutal and dangerous magic to ever exist.

"I better go." Said Roxy as she GTFO.

The Werecat absconded from the home, scurried through the streets of Martindale, and retreated to her cozy, little cottage on the far side of town. However, it wasn't enough to distance herself from the furious screams of one Jade Harley-Strider.

"Dave Strider!" Jade bellowed. "YOU HAVE GOT TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME! We agreed that we'd handle this together, as a family! It's a really, really delicate topic and- OH MY GOLDEN RINGS! You've been telling her 'the greatest witch ever' haven't you? Ugh! I knew it. I knew you were going behind my back! How dare you, Dave! How dare you betray my trust like that!"

"S- She was going to find out eventually." Dave spluttered, as Jade towered over him. "I just thought…"

"That'd you spice up the big reveal with a seriously age-inappropriate story?!" Jade threw her hands into the air. "For fuck's sake! Do you think about the repercussions of anything that you do?! Imagine how Rosie must feel now, to know that we aren't even her real parents and…"

Jade trailed off. In her blind fury she'd all but forgotten about the young girl that had been standing awkwardly, yet fearfully, by her father's side this entire time. With wide eyes, Jade crouched before the child and took her gently by the shoulders.

"Oh, Rosie. I'm so sorry." She gasped. "I have no idea what you're feeling right now. Oh gods. You must be so angry with us. We're sorry. After Rose disappeared, John couldn't… not with the curse…" Her voice broke. "I'm so sorry."

"Mom." Rosie thumped Jade on the forehead as the woman started to cry. "Mom. Get a grip. It's okay. I don't hate you. If anything, I should probably be thanking you for taking care of me all these years." The young girl looked up to meet her father's shaded gaze. "You two are the only parents I've ever known, after all!"

A small smirk quirked Dave's face. Stooping, he took each of his girls by the arms and guided them towards the sofa.

"Come on, guys. I believe a family meeting is in order." Together, the Strider family took a seat and breathed a collective sigh. Tears were still leaking from Jade's face at an alarming rate, dripping into Rosie's raven hair, who was clutched tightly in the mother's lap. "So, Rosie." Dave continued. He was much more relaxed now that Jade wasn't screaming. Hopefully he could keep it that way. "You said that you had some questions for us."

"Well, yeah. Of course I do!" Twisting in Jade's grip, Rosie regarded her parents fully. "First of all, I want to know what happened to Rose, er, my mom. You say that she disappeared but… I mean, someone must have seen her since."

Jade took a moment to dab at her eyes with the sleeves of her sweater.

"There have been… rumors, of course." She began after a moment. "People all across Skaia, from the eastern coast to the western plateaus, have claimed to see her at one point or another. In the months, even years, after she disappeared, John searched for her wherever there was a supposed sighting. But it was always just some impersonator or an oddly-shaped stalagmite. No one has ever had real proof that they've seen her in years."

"That's so stupid though! I mean, yeah, she lost her memory. So what? The Rose you guys knew wasn't one to go into hiding, was she? She seemed like the type of witch who loved the glory and fame that came with being a great adventurer! Even if she didn't remember you guys, why would she just hide like that?"

Dave and Jade exchanged a quick glance. They'd had many discussions such as this amongst themselves in the past and the only solid answer that they could come up with was the possibility that not all of Rose's memory had been erased by the procedure. A small part of the new Rose, the one who traveled with Jade, fell in love with John, and put up with Davesprite's shit, was probably still rattling around in there somewhere. When Dave and Jade brought this idea up to Rosie, the young girl will still no less confused.

"So, what? You're saying that her time with you guys taught her modesty or something equally stupid?" Rosie shook her head. "No. Maybe she was confused by the large blank space in her memory, but would she really hide herself away just so she could figure it all out on her own?"

"Well what other reason is there?" Dave asked. "It's either that or she's dead."

"And we… don't really want to believe that." Jade continued. "At least not yet, not until we know for sure." Jade gnawed anxiously on the inside of her cheek. "I'm sorry that she isn't here, Rosie. I really am."

"It's okay." The girl sighed and sank deeper into Jade's arms. "It sucks but… it's okay. You were a good mom, Jade. Even though you never really wanted to be one in the first place."

The house descended into a horribly awkward silence then. Jade held her daughter, like she had so many times before, and yet it was so much more different. The young witch was rigid in her arms and it was obvious to her, as she gazed down at the curve of Rosie's cheek, just how different the two of them really looked. In the end, it was Rosie once more who broke the silence with a small cough:

"So… uh. I guess you guys decided to name me after my mom then, huh? That makes sense."

"It was John actually." Corrected Dave. "It was really important to him, even though we sort of did our best to talk him out of it. In the end, we respected his wishes."

"John." Rosie repeated the name, as if testing the weight of it on her tongue for the first time ever. "I need to go talk to him."

Now it was Jade's turn to stiffen against her daughter. A small fire blossomed in the Weredog's chest and, if you listened closely, you could hear the sound of her sharp, canine teeth grinding together.

"Why?" She asked of her daughter. "Why in the name of Grimstein would you need to talk to John?"

"Because he's my dad, of course!" Rosie struggled from Jade's grip and positioned herself before he parents. She was at eye level with them now, with the pair of them sitting down. "I have as much questions for him as I do for you guys, probably more! I've visited with John back when he was just my uncle lots of times. There's no reason for you to flip out now."

"There's every reason!" Jade made to rise from the sofa, but Dave stopped her with a firm hand on her knee. Casting her husband a scathing glance, Jade turned back to Rosie, but reluctantly kept her seat. "If you come to John now and confront him with this, it'll be nothing but trouble. He's in no frame of mind to deal with this. Hell, he's spent the past ten years trying to forget about all of it. He's not your father, Rosie, not really. He never was! You're just going to get hurt if you go to him…"

"Mom. Mom!" Rosie had to shout to be heard over Jade's tyraid. "Stop! That's not what this is about. I'm not dumb enough to think that he'll take me back or that he'd have a good explanation for anything, but dammit, I deserve to hear from him what I can." Suddenly Rosie leapt forward and seized both of her parents in a tight hug. "You two are the greatest parents ever! No doubt about it! And I love you both with all of my heart," She pulled back then, so that she could look at each of them in the eye. "But I need to talk to Uncle John. I need to hear what he has to say. You, dad, trusted me enough to tell me the truth, so trust me to do this. I'll be careful, I promise. I just need to talk to him."

Jade opened her mouth to object again, but Dave was quicker:

"Let her go, Jade." He said, comforting his wife with a one-armed hug. "Let her go talk to him. It won't do any harm."

"It will do hella harm!"

"No it won't."

"Yes, it will!" Jade cried. "There's no time to take her all the way to Honey Town! We each have responsibilities here and… Fuck! Why is this so hard!?"

She buried her face in her hands then. The stress was becoming too much for the Weredog mother/mayor. In a matter of minutes it felt as if her whole world had been turned upside-down. Carefully, as if scared she might trigger another shouting spell, Rosie peeled her mother's fingers away from her face.

"I'm going." Said Rosie, once Jade's eyes were visible once more. "There's nothing that can be done about that. I just need you to promise me one thing mom."

"What?"

"That you'll be here when I get back."

And then, with a furious nod, and yet more tears, Jade crushed her daughter to her chest once more and cherished every second that they spent together. All the while, Dave watched and felt that familiar tingle of sadness stir in his gut. His daughter was all grown up now practically and a small part of him knew, as he watched her get squeezed to death by Jade, that their nights spent swapping stories were dead and gone for good.

The next morning, Rosie Strider woke up bright and early, packed a suitcase, bid her parents farewell, and boarded the first bonetrain to Honey Town. Dave and Jade had been wary, of course, about sending Rosie off on this quest by her lonesome, but then again, she was of legal adventuring age and they had already agreed to let her go, so there were little excuses they could use to back out now.

"She'll come back." Assured Dave, as he and his wife stood on the platform and watched Rosie's small form disappear aboard the bonetrain. "A few hours alone with John and she'll be begging to come home. Don't you worry about that."

"I hope you're right." Sighed Jade. "We put too much work into her for her to just run off."

"Yeah, well. Now's the chance for all that hard work to pay off." Gently, Dave tugged his wife away. "Come on, babe. Let's go home."

And they did.

After finding a vacant carriage about the bonetrain, Rosie stowed her bag under her seat and spent the rest of the ride tugging at the collar of her traveling cloak and fretting about what exactly she was going to say when she came face to face with her biological father once more.

In the past, she'd spent sparse time in her 'Uncle John's' company. She, Dave, and Jade would travel to Honey Town to visit him during holidays or just spontaneously to check in, but Uncle John had never made the trip to Martindale though. Hell, as far as Rosie knew he had never left his shit town for anything ever in the past ten years. She'd always just considered him something of a recluse, a kindly man who enjoyed the comforts of home a little too much. However, now that she thought about it, she didn't really know much about the new John Egbert at all.

"Ladies and Gentlemen!" Buzzed a disembodied voice from the wizard intercom. "We will be arriving at our destination in less than ten minutes. I hope you've enjoyed your ride with us and that you enjoy your stay here even more, although that seems unlikely! May I suggest that you visit the Skaia famous "Jared's Peanut Gallery" while you're in town, as that's probably the only thing worth seeing in this shit-hole. Seriously, there's nothing here. It's like ten buildings and most of them don't have running water or a door. Why did you come here? You should just stay aboard and ride the rest of the way to the City of Lakewater. That place is waaaaay cooler than Honey Town. There isn't even any honey here, so if you came for that, sorry bro."

Collecting her things, Rose handed her ticket over to the conductor for a final stamp and stepped off the bonetrain into the town square. The conductor was right about this place, of course. I mean, why would he lie about that? Honey Town was still a veritable cesspool of misery.

The streets were unpaved, store fronts sported faded paint and cracked windows, and the mud statue that was supposed to look like burnt Mayor Buzzles more resembled a clump of mud some obligated villager had half-heartedly slapped together. Which, oddly enough, is exactly what it was.

Rosie confidentially made her way through the streets to Uncle John's shitty hut on the edge of town. It was small and crappy, built from rocks and logs and some rubber bands that John found in the garbage bin behind the town library. On the side, Rosie could see some yellowing stains that was most likely egg yolk and an ugly piece of graffiti that read: "The Hero of Honey Town" in blue letters, accompanied by a crude picture of an stout knight with the head of a donkey in place of a normal human head.

It was an abstract piece, the likes of which gave Rosie pause.

"Hey! Get away from there, you rascal!" Called a frustrated voice.

Rosie turned to see that none other than Uncle John had suddenly rounded the corner of the hut. He wore dark pants and a work shirt, complete with suspenders. A bow tie was knotted around his neck below his magnificent beard, a bright-red rose was pinned to his lapel, and a woodcutter's axe was propped up on his shoulder. His face softened and then split into a wide grin when he recognized Rosie.

"Rosie!" He cheered, throwing his axe aside to greet her. "What in Skaia's name are you doing here? Where's Dave and Jade? You didn't come all this way by yourself did you? I was just chopping some logs up to make a new roof for Miss Fireburst and…"

"Uncle John." Rosie cut off the man mid-rant. He didn't get many visitors and it showed in the swiftness of his speech and the wrinkles of his smile. "I did come by myself, yeah, but it's cool with my parents. They bought me a ticket and everything."

"Oh." John scratched his beard. "Well I would have cleaned up a bit if I'd known someone was coming." His eyes flashed momentarily to the graffiti, then back to Rose. "Uh. Do you wanna come in? Here, let me take your bag."

Rosie took an involuntary step back as John made to move forward.

During the trip here, Rosie had planned out this whole interaction in her head. She'd be real polite and courteous to Uncle John. She'd ease him into the deep end by putting herself on his side, assuring him that she wasn't angry or depressed. He would answer all of her questions honestly and then they'd hug and be best friends forever!

However, right then, as she stood opposite the scruffy man, with his thick glasses and wide grin, she felt a certain tightness in her chest. Her fists clenched around her pack and her teeth ground together painfully. Here she was, with the bitter truth weighing on her shoulders, as he stood there and smiled and laughed and acted like everything was just A-OK.

He didn't know. He didn't know that she knew.

And Rosie wanted him to know.

"I'd rather stay out here if it's all the same to you." Rosie was just as surprised as John to hear her voice waver slightly.

"Rosie?" John questioned, face full of concern. "Are you alright? What's wrong?"

"Y- You're my dad." Hot tears stung her eyes, the same tears that she'd neglected the shed the night previous, but she refused to wipe them away. "I know that you are. My dad- Dave, told me that you were. You're my dad."

Just like Rosie had seized up upon hearing the news the first time, so did John. He stood, mid-step, with his mouth agape and his hand outstretched to comfort Rosie. He struggled to comprehend what was happening. Never, in all of his many years, had he expected to be faced with the past like this, out of the clear blue.

He was waaaaay too sober for this shit.

"Rosie…" He began, but the young girl beat him to it:

"Why?" She demanded, crying openly now. "You left me! You passed me off to your friends like I was just another burden. So what if you couldn't love me? People take care of each other all the time without loving each other. You didn't have to throw me away. You didn't have to lie to me all my life! You didn't have to come back to this shit town, where every hates you!" Out of anger, the young witch pitched her bag at John's head. Luckily for him though, her aim was off and the bag sailed away to land in the dirt harmlessly. "You could have been there for me! You weren't there when I broke my arm when I was six or when I got accepted into the Young Witches Academy! Not loving is one thing, but I don't think you ever even liked me, did you!?"

It was John's saving grace that he lived so far away from any of his neighbors, or else someone probably would have come to investigate the commotion. Rosie didn't show any signs of stopping any time soon either. In fact, she seemed hell-bent on blaming John for every bad thing that had ever happened in her life, from the death of her pet furbeetle to the rainstorm that canceled her birthday party last year. By the time the girl ran out of breath, her eyes were red, her nose was streaming, and John was almost near tears himself.

The pair of them stood there, feet apart, simply looking at each other for a second or two.

John swallowed hard.

"D- Do you… wanna come inside?" He repeatedly hoarsely.

Silently, Rosie nodded and followed him around the hut to the door, pausing only to grab her discarded bag. Once inside, John put the kettle on the fire and made a couple glasses of warm tea. Then the two sat opposite one another, Rosie on the shitty bed and John on a lone chair.

The chair was made out of painwood, a special kind of wood composed entirely out of splinters.

Just thought you should know that.

Anyways, over ten minutes passed in uncomfortable silence as Rosie sipped her tea and dabbed at her eyes with her cloak.

"I'm sorry." She said eventually. "I- I didn't mean any of that stuff. I know it's not your fault."

"It's okay." John responded, almost immediately. "I deserve it."

"No you don't. The curse…"

"The curse didn't say anything about being an awful uncle." With a heavy sigh, John rubbed the back of his neck. "You're right, Rosie. I should have been there for you and I wasn't."

"Why?"

"Because- I couldn't…" John struggled with his words. "You- You have her eyes."

"That's it?"

"You sound like her a bit too. When you laugh." A healthy swig of tea burnt John's throat, but he pressed on despite the pain. "I was never cut out to be a dad, Rosie."

"Oh, but Dave and Jade were?"

That brings a small smile to his lips.

"They saw me struggling and they knew that they could do better. They maybe didn't want to be parents, but they sure wanted to be heroes." Suddenly, John leaned forward in his chair, to look at Rosie seriously. "They saved you, Rosie. You may feel like I threw you away, but I didn't. I… I gave you up."

"You didn't have to."

"Yeah, I did. You said that people can care for each other without love, but honestly that's a silly thing to say. You get to make those wild claims because you grew up with love, Rosie. Dave and Jade made sure of that." Behind the thick rims of his glasses, John's blue eyes grew a little distant. "You don't know what it's like to live without love. It- it's not something I'd ever wish on anyone."

"Roxy loved you. Even when you didn't."

"Fuuuuh. Roxy." Another small smile quirked John's lips, before he exhaled heavily. "She was so stubborn. I told her about the curse, but she never listened. Not until it became obvious, at least. I haven't seen her in years."

"She's teaching me magic now. Her and my dad."

"I thought you were going to the Young Witches Academy."

"Got expelled for an illegal peanut transmogrification spell."

"Haha!" A bark of a laugh tore itself from John's lips and he struggled not to spew tea all over the dusty floor. "Holy shit. That's so awesome. No one's done a spell like that since…"

"My mother? Yeah, I know." Rosie was able to perceive the sharp decline in mood once more as those words left her lips. John, who had been smiling before, shrunk in on himself. His eyes grew glassy and the lines of his face sunk in deeper than ever. Fingering the rim of her mug, Rosie continued regardless: "Uncle John or Dad or whatever I'm supposed to call you now… why don't you come with me? Come back to Martindale. You can live with your friends. You won't be ridiculed or lonely or poor. Roxy lives there, maybe you guys can hang out again and…"

"I can't leave Honey Town." John shook his head feverishly. "I need to stay here."

"Why? It's so awful. This town doesn't need a hero anymore. No town does thanks to what you, my parents, and Rose did." Rosie pleaded with him. "Please, Uncle John. Listen to me."

"Rose is still out there." He stated plainly.

"So? If you think that's true then you shouldn't be hiding away here. Uncle John, that makes no sense." The young girl shifted closer to the edge of the bed. "Also… I hate to be that gal, but it's been over a decade since anyone's seen her, right? She might be dead."

"No. She's alive. I'd know if she wasn't." With trembling fingers, John scratched absentmindedly at his chest. "I have to stay here in Honey Town."

"But why?"

"Because-Because Rose is still out there somewhere and I…" John swallowed hard as his voice shook. He started over. "One day she'll remember and I have to be somewhere where she can find me."

Rosie knew then that her Uncle John was a lost cause.

Rising from the bed, she moved over and hugged him tightly. She may have still harbored some anger towards the poor man, but he was family after all and it's difficult to stay mad at family for long. So yeah. Maybe Uncle John couldn't love her, but she could sure love him. And if he needed someone to stand by his side while he waited, then why couldn't it be her?

Who knows? Maybe Rosie wouldn't be all that opposed to waiting with him either.

THE END.

Well that's the end of that shit. If you leave a review, I'd love to hear not just your opinions on the ending, but the story as a whole! Tell me what you liked, what you didn't like, all that jazz. I'll really appreciate it and I'll respond to any questions you have, mostly.

I liked this story mostly, basically because I never felt any pressure to take it seriously. I was never worried about being deep or profound or angsty. It was just silly bullshit, full of references and off-color humor. I had a lot of fun with it and if you, reading this, had a fraction of that fun, then I'd consider this story to be well worth the time I put into it. I dunno what I plan on doing next, but you can always send me prompts to my tumblr: 'mlp-mike'. Chances are good that I'll write it. Until next time...

Thanks for reading.
- Mike