//------------------------------// // Chapter 28 - Conditioning for Coronation // Story: The Lunar Chalice // by Spirals95 //------------------------------// Chapter 28 Midnight awoke with the happiest feeling in his heart, although the toasty warmth of the heavy sheets wrapped around him certainly helped too. He was laying prone in a bed big enough for at least four unicorns, with comforters of red piled on the top so that the cold day outside couldn't reach his body. Sombra had prepared only the finest chamber for him, with walls washed white and gold patterns running along the floorboards. Formations of crystal jutted from the walls, glowing a soft red, which further heated the room and provided a soft light like a fireplace. Needless to say, Midnight was going to have trouble prying himself out of the warm cocoon of blankets and the softness of the down pillow. It seemed like his stomach had other plans for him, though. “Ugh, starving...” he muttered as he finally started wiggling out of the ball of sheets, “what time is it?” Rolling himself over on the bed, he glanced at the pocket watch he had left on the oak nightstand next to the massive canopy bed. It was ten in the morning, probably far too late to expect breakfast, even if he was a 'prince' now. Yet, there seemed to be the unmistakeable scent of freshly flipped pancakes on the griddle coming from the hallway outside. “I guess I can hold out,” sighed Midnight as he stretched his body out along the edge of the bed, “we ate that huge dinner at four in the morning, anyways. I swear I can smell food though.” He remembered the awkward dinner last night, with Techorse covered in industrial grease from whatever work he had been assigned, and how Shadow Breeze constantly looked like he was about to faint in fear. The four friends had been seated around the table, with Sombra at the head, refusing to make eye contact with anypony except Midnight while dining with a levitated fork and knife. Somehow, he had come up with a tremendously caloric dinner of roasted potatoes and mushrooms native to the valley, with grilled sugarcane for dessert. Where had the king come up with such delicacies on such short notice, and how was the meal cooked so quickly? Midnight knew that the golems had gone out last night to kidnap ponies from the Crystal Empire. Maybe they had cooked the meal. “No, that has to be food”, he said aloud, placing a hoof to his lip, “I wonder what the slaves have prepared for breakfast?” A few moments of time hung in the air. Then, Midnight bolted up from the bed, and yet out a surprised, terrified yelp. “WHAT DID I JUST SAY?!” Jumping out of the bed, Midnight felt his heart rate spike for a brief period. He did not consciously choose to say what he had just said... did he? “M... maybe I really do need breakfast,” he muttered, “I'll see if there's anything left downstairs.” He slowly walked to the giant set of carved wooden doors as white as the walls, and exited his chamber slowly, trying not to make any noise. The door shut with a soft thud, Midnight sighed deeply when he was sure nopony had heard him. “Good morning, son.” Midnight nearly jumped out of his coat, recoiling at Sombra's deep voice. “Relax,” the king smirked, adjusting his black mane with a hoof, “I understand your new role in life is stressful, but you have a lot to learn in order to claim your rightful title as the Shadow Prince. One of your responsibilities will be remaining calm under stress, even the fiercest battle or strongest monster cannot break your spirit.” “Title? I thought I was just supposed to be your son.” Sombra rolled his eyes and chortled, exposing his tiny fangs again, “Midnight you silly foal, I'm the king of this land. That makes you the prince. Did spending your time with Techorse make your common sense fall out of your skull?” “Hey, Techorse has plenty of common sense,” grumbled the smaller unicorn, “he just... can be a little too trusting sometimes.” “Indeed,” agreed the king, his green aura clutching something underneath his cape, “in any case, I have a list of things you will be learning today and tomorrow so that you will be prepared for your coronation tomorrow night.” Midnight appeared surprised, “Coronation?!” “That is correct,” Sombra declared triumphantly, “tomorrow night, you will be crowned as the rightful heir to my throne! We will conduct the ceremony as my forefathers did centuries before me, and you will become a true prince. Prepare to leave your old life behind, at the stroke of...” “Midnight,” they both said, before laughing at the cheesy setup. “Really, dad?” laughed the unicorn, “you had to pick midnight, didn't you?” “It's all just a coincidence my child,” he answered, “that's been the tradition forever. Nonetheless, I've already begun the forging of a proper crown for you in my private workshop. I am sure you will enjoy it. But for now, let us begin your training as my successor. We have a lot to cover in such a minute amount of time.” “Oh wow, where to even start,” Midnight said, playing along, “I guess I have to learn how to tax peasants, huh?” “Charming,” Sombra sighed, “no, I actually am referring to the serious duties of royalty and the mannerisms of being a king. I am glad you are so highly pleased with the forges and arcane workbenches I have given you, but there are things you need to learn. How to act, how to use the magic passed down to me by my ancestors, and how to engage in the timeless art of combat.” “I can hold my own there,” assured the soon-to-be prince, “I'm not the best at dueling, but I've seen my own share of danger.” “I'm not talking about the skill of solo duels with monsters or other unicorns,” Sombra said sternly, “I'm talking about the responsibility of leading an army into battle! A prince must know how to command his troops as well as how to survive instances of combat. Come with me.” Sombra turned suddenly, marching down the hallway of his castle with his red cape following behind him. Midnight, figuring he had no choice, shadowed his new father through the hallway, when they came to a large balcony sealed off by a glass door, the morning sunlight flooding the atrium behind them. The door opened automatically when a sensor rune above the doorway was triggered by their approach, sliding open for the two, who stepped out into the sunlight. It took a few seconds for Midnight's eyes to adjust to the light, but when he was able to see clearly, he looked down and saw below him his new army. A thousand golems, all identical except for the green-eyed captain at the front, were lined up in a perfect set of four squares in the lawn behind the castle. Two massive banners seven meters high sat between the legions of troops, one on the left blue with Midnight's cutie mark as a logo in the center, and the same for Sombra on the right. Midnight couldn't believe how many troops there were, “What's all this?” “I've had the forges running throughout the night,” explained Sombra, “with each passing hour, more and more troops are built for you, ready to serve your cause, Midnight Blaze.” Turning to the troops stories below them, Sombra approached the edge of the balcony with Midnight. Immediately and simultaneously, every last golem locked its legs together and raised its right fist with a bent arm, saluting Midnight. “GOLEMS, MY SOLDIERS OF THE DARK!” bellowed Sombra to them, “This is your new prince, Midnight Blaze! As with myself and the zebra, he is also your leader! Serve him with all your might, as you were built for!” All of them took a knee, the shift in movements of the troops audible to Midnight above, who looked down upon his new army. If this didn't count as being important in the military to his father, he thought, then nothing would! A smile he felt bad about having crept across his face. “Tomorrow morning, you will lay waste to the Crystal Empire,” Sombra ordered, “storm the Crystal Palace! Put the Crystal Guard swine in their places, then bring the Princess and her weakling husband before me bound in chains!” Again, Midnight felt at odds with himself with that order. The thought of seeing the Crystal Palace burn, and Princess Cadance tied up to be carted off as a slave made Midnight remember he was supposed to be secretly plotting against Sombra. Yet he was being offered incredible wealth, power, and there was still the promise of being able to complete the mindstones project, which he had made tremendous progress on thanks to the advanced arcane tools provided. “Midnight, you look bored,” said Sombra, interrupting his thoughts, “are you having trouble coming up with further orders for your troops?” He snapped out of his thoughts, and droned, “Uhhh.” Needing to come up with something to say fast, he pointed with his hoof to the square of golems furthest on the left. “Um, battalion A!” he ad-libbed, having no idea what the regiment wanted to be called, “Go to the mountains and use your magic cannons to mine for more energy crystals for my projects!” Getting into the swing of it, he pointed to the next group, “Battalions B and C, you patrol the castle in a counterclockwise fashion so that any ponies trying to enter the grounds have to answer to you first!” Lastly, he turned to the last regiment, “And you in team D... um... wash the outside of the castle if you get time.” The golems of group D all looked at each other, breaking their stony gaze. Such a weird order to be getting at a serious moment like this, but they collectively shrugged and went to get the buckets and mops. The remainder of the troops moved in formation to carry out the tasks ordered by Midnight Blaze. “You'll get used to the concept of commanding with time,” said Sombra, pleased with Midnight's start, “for now, head back inside and start in on a late breakfast. You'll need the energy.” “Are you joining me?” he asked. “No, I have things to attend to around the castle,” said Sombra, waving his hoof, “I will find you again within the hour to begin your training, Midnight. Be ready.” And just like that, Sombra walked back into the depths of his fortress to check up on the progress of his “helpers”. Midnight waited a while to make sure he was gone before going back inside himself, and followed the delicious smell of breakfast that had woken him up. For some odd reason, he couldn't seem to feel any pity for the Crystal Empire, which was about to be attacked savagely by the golems patrolling outside. Maybe it was just the growling in his belly. Much like how Midnight had started his day, Rosseth had enjoyed his own private bed wrapped with warm blankets. A finished bottle of his favorite drink sat tipped over on his dresser, and piles of gold bits were bagged up in the corner, a huge bounty awarded to him by Sombra for his help in escaping his ghostly form. All of this, plus an offer to remain in command of the castle's affairs as a secondary officer, and it felt like everything was coming up Rosseth! The real icing on the cake, however, was tomorrow's planned invasion, where he would finally defeat Princess Cadance for his horrible life so far. So what if the Storm Amulet belonging to his father had been damaged beyond use at the moment? He would find other ways to defend himself. “Rosseth, get up,” said a voice in the room. The zebra hybrid shot up, seeing Sombra right next to him as if he had phased through the walls! “Sombra, my lord!” he gasped a little groggily, “I'm sorry, I was just recovering from all these recent events.” “I understand your need for rest, but I also need you to be awake to accept an additional gift from me,” the king of shadows continued, “surely a zebra must get lonely from time to time, hmmm?” Rosseth saw a very crude look in Sombra's eyes, and played dumb, “I... I have no idea what you are talking about, Your Highness.” “Oh enough of that nonsense,” Sombra said, cutting through the guise, “a zebra of your age and disposition has very particular needs, I'm sure.” He waved his hoof nervously, “Well no, I mean, I just need water, shelter, and food like any other zebra...” Sombra's horn glowed brightly, and Lighthearted appeared in a flash of magical energy, wearing a very lacy saddle with pink frill, and a combination of purple eyeshadow and lipstick. She made eye contact with him straight away, and Rosseth's face went pale with terror. “Ohhhh, maaaaster,” she said softly to the zebra, stepping up to him with a faint tone of hostility in her voice, “I'm ready to serve you in any way possible. King Sombra made me see just how much of a handsome stallion you are!” She climbed up onto the bed next to the zebra, who inaudibly seemed to be begging the king not to leave him alone with the crazy mare. But Sombra was already angry with him about his running of his mouth, and was likely already onto his plan of using him to attack the Crystal Empire. He'd have to accept this “gift”, and pray it wasn't going to be the end of him! Sombra, ever the gentlecolt, bowed his head slightly, “She's your personal servant Rosseth. I think you'll know what to do next.” With a stomp of his hoof on the ground, Sombra teleported himself out of the room in a puff of black shadow energy, leaving the two alone. Rosseth slowly looked back at Lighthearted, who was now sitting right in front of him on the bed. She permitted one second of silence before saying quietly, “You're dead, zebra boy.” Outside of the room, the king started to walk away when he heard a high pitched scream come from the zebra's personal quarters, along with what sounded like furniture being knocked over. As to be expected, he had no idea it was violence. “Goodness, Rosseth,” he whispered, looking back slyly, “I had no idea.” Pleased that he had done Rosseth a very special favor for helping him, Sombra proceeded on to his next subject. He needed to make sure that his superweapon was going to be ready in time for the “mane event” tomorrow. Feeling overworked and drained from building a weapon, Techorse stepped back from the missile for a second to see his progress so far. With the magical forge, he had managed to build the outer hull of the missile in only a few hours, and had welded it together tightly. The engines were under construction right now, and the fuel supply could be generated in an hour if need be. Clearly a testament to Techorse's engineering skills, yet also most likely a great source of shame for him at the moment. “I hate building doomsday devices,” he said sadly, as if that was something normal to say at all. “I know you do,” mocked Sombra as he appeared from the staircase behind him, “but your participation is mandatory, Techorse, and I must say, for being forced to develop such a terrible contraption, you've worked very hard.” “I don't want you to hurt my friends,” he answered as he turned around to face the thing, “I love them enough to build you your weapon, even if I get blamed for it. But there is one problem though.” “What is that?” asked the king, suspicious. Techorse moved over to a nearby chalkboard and grabbed a piece of the talk chalk with his robotic arms, “See this equation here? Getting the Afradium to work as a fissile material is easy enough, but I need to build a reacting chamber inside the warhead of the missile. The way I intend to set off the material is by imploding a ball of the substance in a rounded metal chamber...” “On with it.” Techorse dropped the chalk bitterly, “In short, Your 'Majesty', I can't finish building the missile because I need to weld the bomb together, and the weld won't be strong enough without a plasma welder.” “That will be easy enough for me to accomplish personally with a spell to superheat some air,” Sombra suggested, “show me the device, Techorse.” “It isn't that simple,” he said, “an arcane weld won't hold... Midnight taught me that magic plasma welding won't keep components together when exposed to other magical reactions. When the weapon detonates, the reaction will just pop the chamber open and ruin everything.” “What is it that you propose, Techorse?” growled Sombra, giving him a nasty look. “I need to do this on the physics level, so I need my laser cannons back to weld together the implosion chamber,” Techorse answered honestly, “I can use a solid beam to create a usable weld.” Sombra could sense that Tech was telling the truth about the weld, and knew his pitiful popguns would be no match for his shadow magic should he decide to use those weapons against him. “Very well Techorse, I will permit you to reinstall your laser weaponry,” he answered, his horn glowing red, “I assume this means the missile will be ready by tonight?” The guns appeared out of the memorized location Sombra had placed them in, phasing into existence next to Techorse. “Yes, it'll be ready,” he said, “it's untested though, I'm going off of theory here entirely.” “Remember, it's the existence of such a weapon that will win me the Crystal Empire,” answered the king, trying to get his worker to relax, “not the use of it. I am still promising that we will never launch this missile unless necessary to win. The golem army should be sufficient!” He headed for the stairwell again, listening to the clicking sounds of Techorse placing his weapons back in the saddle's sockets using the robotic arms. “One more thing, Sombra,” Techorse said, getting the king to stop. He finished installing his weapons, and addressed him dramatically, “You know that this is my greatest fear, building an invention that ends up causing a lot of violence and hurting a lot of ponies. That's why you simulated me... being dealt with for it.” “You are beginning to sound like a damaged record, Techorse,” he warned, “don't become a pest to me.” “I'm not sure what you are doing to Midnight Blaze,” continued the inventor without fear, “maybe you're really trying to make an heir for yourself, maybe you're just using him to split me and the guys up. Truth is, I don't know what you're up to, you're not the angry, out of control tyrant the Princesses told me you were. You're a master manipulator and a crazy stallion.” He mocked him for it, “So I exceeded your expectations? That's very touching.” “Listen to me,” Techorse continued, curling his eyebrows, “I don't trust you not to use this missile I've built. This weapon is going to be your downfall if it motivates the Crystal Ponies enough to stand up to you.” “The Crystal Ponies send liquid down their legs at the very mention of my name, you preachy little gelding,” Sombra chuckled, “that's enough Techorse. I really appreciate your effort to warn me, but it's useless. There will be no successful overthrow of myself or my allies. But that's not to say I intend to dispose of you or your kind. Someday you will learn to appreciate the power of shadow magic and willingly serve my son Midnight.” “Keep telling yourself that,” he grunted, turning back to the missile. “Idiot,” Sombra thought, shaking his head and heading downstairs. As soon as he was long gone, Techorse brought up a nearby control panel and pressed on one of the magic runes present. A long rubber tube connected to the middle of the missile, a transportation for fuel. Having gone over Sombra's design multiple times before starting, Techorse was able to skimp and save on space and weight using circuitry and digital equipment, resulting in a large amount of empty space inside the missile. With that, he had created a fuel tank twice the size that it needed to be, which he believed Sombra hadn't noticed. Even if he had, it could be explained by wanting to give the rocket the longest range possible to avoid missing the mark. A peristaltic motion waved through the tube as liquid fuel was pumped into the tank inside, prepping the missile for launch. “All right,” Techorse said, stepping away and glancing at the Afraidium sphere on the workbench in front of him, “while that fills up, time to build the centerpiece. I just hope Princess Celestia can forgive me for this...”