//------------------------------// // Prolouge // Story: Crystal Rose // by Marina Stars //------------------------------// Prologue Sombra scowled. He stood facing a pair of heavy gilded doors, that were shut to him. He could hear music and laughter from beyond. The party, his party, had already begun. Crystal cups clinked as his pony guests toasted to the night and wandered about the large ornate ballroom. Their eyes, no doubt, widening as they saw the hundreds of priceless objects that lined the crystal walls. There were beautiful vases, detailed portraits of faraway places, rich tapestries, and solid gold serving plates, only a few of the many items. And they all paled in comparison to the beauty of the guests themselves. Sombra did not invite just any pony to his lavish parties. He invited only those he deemed beautiful enough to be in his presence. So, they came from all over Equestria-no, the world- from places like, Maretonia, Saddle Arabia, Chimare, Draconia and dozens of other lands. Each pony as much on display as the inanimate objects in the room Standing in front of the closed doors, the prince hardly noticed his servants as they bustled about him, nervously putting the finishing touches on his ensemble. His majordomo, a lavender unicorn mare with an indigo mane and pink and purple highlights, pulled up in a tight bun, hovered nearby, a to-do list and small pocket watch floating in her magenta aura. The mare, Twilight Sparkle, hated Sombra’s utter lack of respect for lists, schedules and time, in turn the Prince took great pleasure in wasting hers. A maid, by the name of Rarity, stood next to the prince. She was a unicorn with a pearly white coat and a purple mane, a feather brush in her light blue aura. She gingerly painted a white line on the young stallion's face. The paint gilded onto his smooth, flawless face with ease. When she finished the unicorn maid pulled back the brush and cocked her head to the side as she took in her work. The mask had taken Rarity hours to paint, and it showed. It was exquisite! Sombra’s face had been transformed by the pale veil of paint. No detail had been spared by the unicorn mare, down to the faintest tracings of gold feathers and blue accents around his eyes and the dusting of rouge that sharpened his already striking cheekbones. Underneath the masquerade makeup, Sombra’s emerald green eyes shone coolly. Stepping back the maid waited as the head valet, a white male unicorn with a blue mane and a monocle over one of his blue eyes, draped a long, jeweled, velvet cape over the prince’s shoulders and then carefully inspected it to make sure not a single jewel was out of place in the slightest. Satisfied he nodded at the maid. Then both bowed and waited with bated breath for the prince to act. Lifting one gloved hoof, the prince gave a single haughty wave. Instantly, a footman appeared, He was a lanky orange stallion with a poufy brown mane and emerald green eyes. “More light.” Sombra ordered. “Yes, Your Highness.” The footman said, turning and reaching for a candelabrum placed nearby. He lifted it so it illuminated the Prince’s face. Sombra held a small mirror in his green aura. It was crystal with flourishes along the back and delicate handle. Levitating it so he could see his face the Prince preened like a peacock, he turned left, then right, then left again, taking in every detail of the mask, before looking straight on at his reflection. He nodded once, and then, as if it were nothing more than a dishrag, the Prince dropped the mirror. Rarity, who had nearly fainted in relief at the Prince’s nod of approval, gasped as the mirror began to fall.  Not even bothering to turn at the noise, the Prince had the majordomo open the doors to the grand ballroom. As he entered, the footman lunged forward catching the mirror just before it hit the floor. Rarity levitated it out of his hoofs placing it in a safe place, where it wouldn't fall and shatter. The servants let out a collective sigh as the doors swung shut behind the Prince. For the next few hours they would be able to relax, away from their cruel, selfish, spoiled, and unkind master. Unaware of his servants’ thoughts, or perhaps aware but unconcerned, Prince Sombra made his way across the ballroom. It was a sea of white, as his invitation had requested. Many of the guests were hard to distinguish, because of their masks. The result was absolutely enchanting. His mouth, however, remained pulled down and his solemn expression did not indicate any joy or pleasure at seeing such beauty in his castle home. He never allowed other ponies to see if he felt joy, pain, or sadness. It gave him a sense of mystery, which he enjoyed immensely. As he walked he heard the whispers of many beautiful young mares wondering excitedly if this would be the night he singled one of them out for a dance. A smug smile tugged at his muzzle, but he forced it down and continued on his way across the ballroom. Pushing through the circle of eligible young mares and their chaperones, the Prince arrived at his throne. It was raised above the ballroom floor, allowing him the best seat to view the party from. Like everything else in the large room, the throne was decadent in its design. A huge majestic coat of arms dominated the seat, making it clear, as if it weren't already, exactly whose throne it was. Standing beside it, Sombra turned and stared out at the ballroom. He watched as a grey unicorn stallion with a blue horn and red and yellow eyes and an ebony mane wearing a black suit, took a seat at the white and gold grand piano across the room. The unicorn prince locked eyes with the stallion, who gave a lively smile, revealing a small snaggletooth and other sharp teeth. The prince grimaced but nodded. This was, after all, Discord, the premier Equestrian maestro. Next to him was his wife, an angelic pegasus mare with a light-yellow coat, a rosy pink mane and sparkling teal eyes wearing an elegant gold ball gown. The two were known all over the world for their sound. They were, simply put, the best and because of that, the Prince had needed to have them at his ball. With Sombra’s nod, the maestro began to play and the elegant soprano began to sing, their music filling the ballroom. Sombra strode out onto the floor and started to dance. His moves were smooth and extremely practiced, honed from many years of training. Around him mares moved in reverse to the prince, their dancing equally practiced and smooth. Yet somehow they all paled in comparison to him. His presence was much bigger than the ballroom his looks more beautiful, his coldness more chilling than the wind and rain that howled outside. The soprano’s voice  had reached a beautifully high note when, suddenly, above the music and over the wind, Sombra heard the unmistakable sound of some pony knocking at the door that led out to the gardens. He lifted his hoof, and the music came to an abrupt stop. The knock came again. For a moment nopony moved. And then, all the windows blew open followed by the door. Rain billowed into the ballroom and the strong wind caused the candles hanging from the walls to flicker and go out. The ballroom was plunged into darkness, and Sombra heard his guests begin to mutter nervously. In the remaining light from the candelabra on the tables, Sombra watched with a mixture of anger and curiosity as a hooded figure entered through the open door. The stranger was hunched over with a profound limp and shaking hoofs. The visitor moved out of the cold and into the warmth of the ballroom. As the door shut, the hooded pony sighed audibly, clearly happy to be somewhere he or she seemed to think was safe and inviting. They could not have been more wrong. His initial shock fading, the Prince felt rage well up inside him. Levitating a candelabrum from a nearby table, he stormed through the crowd, pushing ponies out of his path. By the time he arrived at the door his face was red, despite the layers of face paint. He noticed that the uninvited guest was nothing but an old beggar mare. As hunched as she was Sombra towered over her. “What is the meaning of this?” He demanded with a snarl. The old mare looked up at him with hope in her eyes. Holding out a single red rose, she spoke in no more than a whisper. “I’m seeking shelter from the bitter storm outside.” As if on cue the wind rose, howling like a mad beast. The stallion remained unmoved. He didn't care if the mare was cold and wet. She was haggard, old, and a vagrant! And worse still, she was ruining his ball! Another wave of red-hot anger washed over him as he saw the ugliness among the beauty he had so carefully and painstakingly created. “Get out!” he sneered, waving her away with his hand. “Get out now. You do not belong here.” He gestured around the room at the elegantly dressed ponies. “Please” the old mare begged. “I am only asking for shelter for one night. I will not even stay in the ballroom.” Sombra’s frown deepened. “Don’t you see, old Mare? This is a place of beauty,” he said, his voice cold. “You are too ugly for my castle. For my world. For me.” The mare seemed to shrink as the Prince’s words tore into her, but the Prince did not appear to have any remorse. Signaling to his majordomo and the head footman, he ordered that the mare be escorted out. “You should not be deceived by appearances,” The mare warned shakily as the two unicorns approached. “Beauty is found within…” Sombra threw back his head and laughed cruelly. “Say what you will, hag. But we all know what beautiful looks like-and it is not you. Now go!” Turning, Sombra moved to leave but, a gasp from his guests made him pause. As he looked over his shoulder, his eyes grew wide. Something was happening to the old mare. Her dirty cape and hood began to engulf her in a cocoon of sorts until she all but disappeared. Then a flash of light erupted, blinding him and everypony at the ball. When his vision cleared, the old beggar was gone, and in her place was the most beautiful mare Sombra had ever seen. She was an alicorn with a light rosy pink coat, her mane flowed with the colors of the Aurora Borealis. She had piercing violet eyes that stared into his soul. She was floating above him, her horn emitting a dazzling golden light, not unlike the light of the sun. Instantly, Sombra knew exactly who she was, for he had read about her. She was Celestia, goddess of the sun. A mare with powerful magic. A mare who had put him to a test. And he had failed. Falling to his knees, he held up his hoofs. “Please,” he said, now the one to beg. “I’m sorry, Celestia! You are welcome in my castle for as long as you like!” The goddess shook her head. She had seen enough to know it was a hollow apology. “I can see you have no love, nor kindness in your heart.” Magic coursed through her to her horn and washed over Prince Sombra. His transformation began instantly. The Prince’s body was racked with pain. He cried out as his back arched and he began to change. He grew larger, his clothing tore, his jewelry came off, his grey coat turned darker, and his mane became as black as Midnight. He cried out as further pain emitted from his forehead as his horn twisted and the tip of it became red as the rose she had offered. The surrounding guests screamed at the sight of their host and fled from him. Sombra reached out his hoof trying to grasp a nearby pony’s hoof, but to his horror, he discovered his own became like a shadow. The pony jumped away and made his escape, along with the others. Amid it all, Celestia calmly watched her punishment take effect. Soon the ballroom was empty save for the staff, the entertainers and a bunny that belonged to the Soprano. As they looked on in shock, the Prince’s transformation was complete. Where once there had towered a handsome stallion now cowered a hideous creature of shadow.  But he was not the only pony to have transformed. The rest of the castle and its inhabitants no longer looked the same. They too, had changed… The days turned into years, and the Prince and his servants were forgotten by the world until, finally, the enchanted castle stood isolated and locked in an endless winter. Celestia had erased all memory of the castle and those who were in it, even from the minds of the ponies who loved them. But there was one last bit of hope: the rose she had offered the prince was enchanted to be made of crystal. If the prince could learn to love another and earn her love in return by the time the last petal fell, the spell would be broken. If not, he would be doomed to remain a shadow, forever.