If the princess could speak any desire for the life she envisioned and labored for both her ponies, there was only one phrase she could think of, to sum up the core of it all.
That was 'back to normalcy'.
Every bit of her was desperate for it, with a numbed yearning she didn't dare dissect too much. It was something other than peace or solace, beyond victory and above happiness, was it not? No fear, no worry, no surprises. Just one normal day, one normal night, and then another. All would be well. Always. Even the antics of Dissy had a type of charming normalcy to them, and held something to look forward to with their outrageous silliness. How could she not have any adoration for silly, innocent antics? To laugh and be merry?
(She certainly thought she was merry. She did not doubt this. Not at all. And really, might even just a little doubt, were she to have any, be natural? Purely, hypothetically, that is...)
But the latest private ills that she felt boding about her did not feel normal. Still, they ought to all be quite natural. A headache when frustrating things (or individuals) that sprung and lingered after they left certainly wasn't unusual to her. And really, it wasn't as if she needed to be worrying about that on its own. Maybe she ate just a little more, but the straw didn't really break the camel's back (how morbid!) any more than an extra piece of toast for breakfast ruined her figure. Yet, she had never minded an extra helping of comfort foods here or there. So how was that such a horrible thing?
It simply wasn't.
So headaches were no problem, either. Her eating was fine. She was not unfit. So what if her stomach felt a sort of sour grip of... a malaise (one that was obviously wholly unjustified) at some of the truly strangest times? Or some nights she just... missed a little bit of sleep? There was always the beckon of another letter, a warm cup of tea, paperwork that needed sorting, and some other bit of work. And then another bit... or perhaps a bit more. And then there were the nights she slept without disturbance, hiding her head away under blankets, pillows, and the tail of a faithful boyfriend in order to hold back the dawn for just a bit longer, for the eldest princess was no morning pony.
She was fine. Healthy. It wasn't as though she could blame this all on the prince.
(She might've liked to.)
(Maybe just a bit too much.)
(It made her feel better, and oh goodness did it make so much sense.)
(And in the end, didn't everypony?)
(He could claim no innocence.)
Six months of peculiar, fickle feelings of on-and-off uneasiness had come to no fruition. Carefully and kindly asking a guard to look a certain way to glimpse any of Sombra's activities had not yielded much, and that should have made her worry less, shouldn't it have?
She could only describe what more of his habits she had learned of as thus:
Sombra liked to be inside and outside in his spare time, so long as he was away from ponies, for the most part. He had an odd fondness for foalsitting the Crystal Heir whenever she visited. He liked to go on dates with Luna whenever he could manage. Any time he could spend not doing royal duties appeared to be his favorite (and again, how hard it was to tell!) and was often spent with Celestia's daughter. He quickly became the most notable inhabitant of any of the castle's many archives. She never knew exactly what he was looking for, and Luna did not keep track of his browsing habits either strictly or at all — not unless she was curious or thought he needed help, she had said.
(Yes, inhabitant, he was there that often, and somehow still managed to spend time with his wife... how, exactly?)
...He was a hard worker. And productive. He communicated problems easily, but Celestia hated how he communicated.
He actually tried.
Maybe that's what worried Celestia. (Other than the fact that his coffee intake was rather alarming, and there was something twitchy about him once he had had enough of it. Though, his tastes there weren't as evil as the rest of him. That was bearable.)
...Bearable. Sombra.
Celestia bit her lip and took a shaky breath, trying to keep her smile calm. It was a good-afternoon smile, because only a few short moments ago, one of the maids — and her friend — Flighty Feather had just passed, and Celestia had said hello.
In six months, Sombra hadn't done anything that was... inherently wrong, Celestia supposed. But really, he obviously couldn't have done too much right. Within that time, he picked up his paperwork late twice, only ever made non-verbal greetings, made zero friends, proved himself incapable of distinguishing a dessert spoon from a soup spoon, snuck up on her nine times, and accused poor, poor Philomena of almost attacking him.
And even after having to have this stallion appear in her office as part of her routine, as part of her schedule as much as long shadows were part of noon, Celestia honestly knew any more about him than she did before. The most absolute and undeniable thing that could be said about Sombra by anypony was that he sometimes wore his mane differently, oh, and that nearly everywhere he went he had a notebook. It was rarely the same notebook twice, too, but each volume tended to be standard faux leather, neither slim nor thick, and he wrote in them both furiously and casually with every chance he had. Every day. They were pragmatic, no-nonsense volumes that still seemed more elegant than their owner.
As little bureaucracy as there was when it came to the chain of ponies (really, 'princesses' would be more accurate) that made all the decisions in Equestria, it was still incredibly awkward when Sombra proved he was capable of sitting through private meetings among his royal peers. Even Raven had never attended one, nor had any secretary before her, and Celestia would have rather had her there instead. Now, he essentially took the place of Cadance, and maybe that was one change Celestia wasn't eager for. In so little time she had gone from being a monarch to having a small herd of royalty from multiple generations with vastly different opinions on almost everything (she had to hold it all together with a smile), a vast new northern colony, and yet another generation of high-born foals... and maybe more to come.
Sombra still wrote non-stop in one of his numerous notebooks at such meetings, eyeing everpony and sitting stoically by the side of Luna or on his own. His words could not impact the kingdom, but he did speak up sometimes. Surprisingly, he proved to be the quietest member of the little congregation, once again taking on a role that was formerly Cadance's, and Twilight ended up being his vocal counterpart. The stoic stallion certainly did have... opinions... if she were to put things a touch lightly, on those rare occasions. He had never even been that angry, nor disorganized or rude. Blunt, yes, and to Celestia that was just the same as any vulgarity. She still preferred these encounters to the meetings with the rest of the world's gods at the divine Pantheon. They had opinions on Equestria that were not to be trusted, and their politics were to devoid of mortal wants and norms, as well as history as she knew it.
Luna, thankfully, was skillful at managing him. Sombra and Twilight Sparkle (and by extension, Cadance and Shining Armor) all had one thing in common, and that was that neither had any real experience with ruling... which was certainly odd, considering Sombra's past position. While Twilight's regular correspondence with Celestia helped her peer-mentor the younger mare in the art of princesshood, Luna had a way with Sombra that enabled her to mentor her partner when she could. Other times, Celestia had to deal with the silly Prince of Paperwork. He was undesirable as a student. Though he never interrupted her, he asked questions frequently, had a hooves-on approach that frustrated her, and tried to discuss her tersely given 'lessons' with her as though they were equal beings. That was unacceptable — almost as much as his disturbing magic and dark powers.
Celestia's many mental reminders of the day still in progress were both a blessing and a burden, urging her to make haste and quicken her pace, even if her speed was just fine. The halls of the castle felt like blinders urging her to an inevitable horror: Sombra's study. It was the mysterious room he had taken such loathsome pride in establishing as his own, furnishing, and working out of the section that brought back a now-soured memory to Celestia.
It had been a vast art studio, ages ago, belonging to one of her old lovers, but was far removed from the Solar Wing. It was old, forsaken, and the only room available to Sombra (because she said so). She had little idea what he had done with it, only that he used his own bits to shape it as he pleased. Today would be the first time Celestia had given the once-grand studio more than a glance, but she still knew that if her dear Dapple Daub knew a demon was occupying the studio she gifted him, he would be heartbroken and outraged. Whatever fury Celestia couldn't seem to dredge up was occupied instead by a heavy sense of uncaring, an apathy that pained her, and the overwhelming and familiar princess urgency to work.
But Celestia couldn't blink away an old face that she had long ago gotten over the absence of. She always did. Daub would be disappointed, certainly. Yet, it was greater things that mattered. She didn't want Sombra in his studio, yes, but she didn't want Sombra in Canterlot at all.
Such a great wave of disappointment swept over herself that she couldn't stop herself from pausing just a bit to passively wait out the strange gloom. Her wings drooped a bit and her ears pricked forward only because she had allowed them to.
The corners of her mouth hurt. Had she really been smiling that long?
For exactly fifteen dreadfully long seconds that she chided herself for wasting, Celestia stood alone listening to what was little else than the rippling of her own mane.
Maybe she was a silly mare, because she clogged up a thousand years of utter hopelessness — for she always knew the silly fancy was an unrealistic, cruel waste — with wishing and air-headed whims for a family once again. Wishes were things that needed no commitment, ambition, or disclosure, so perhaps they were perfect. Like motes of dust, they were barely there. She could make mountains of them with no impact on anypony, couldn't she? She trusted that they would eventually vanish, and they did, making wishes the inverse of regrets.
And for that she was thankful.
'Family' had an unclear meaning even to her in those times. She had never wanted any children, but adored teaching those not her own. She entertained the affections of many stallions, and called ten her lover in that course of time, but never married. She still was happy enough and found herself content, though loneliness left scars. For so long, she never thought she would have Luna back...
As the silence pressed down on Celestia uncomfortably, she knew that the worst part about her wish might have been that it came true, in ways both terrible and wonderful.
Swallowing, she hurried down the hall. Sombra had to be paid a visit, since nopony else would be there to explain to Sombra what it meant to be in the royal portrait. The likeness of that portrait was copied and distributed throughout Equestria, in every mayor's hall, courthouse, and bank. The image of her and Luna... and now Sombra, too. He had to be instructed in what was proper and alerted of expectations, something that fell squarely upon her withers.
...
The large door that led to Sombra's study was just like most in the castle, and yet Celestia hesitated anyway. She knew nothing of what Sombra did with Daub's old studio, with its large, panel-like windows, and sunny interior. She wasn't quite sure she wanted to. Stepping in there after so many years suddenly felt unexpected and personal, when she had never treated the room as such. It would not make entering this now-changed room any less different than entering an unknown country. She was a touch scared, deep down.
Celestia swallowed gracefully. Her hoof was hovering in mid-air, unwilling to knock.
She felt atypical unease in her stomach. She had to talk to Sombra. It was duty, it was an expectation, and those were two things she did with little difficulty. Those two words formed something of a mantra, just like many of the whispers stuck in her never-quiet skull.
Duty. Expectation. Normalcy. Modesty. Kindness. Morality. Ivory. Ebony. Absolute. Liar. Greater Good.
Click, click, click...
That was their melody, and those many regulations her gears. They spun about day and night, dictating she lowered herself. That she was a machine, and it was the only mental kindness she was willing to allow herself. If she could just remind herself of what such things stood for, everything could be okay, and it had been for a long time. Not primarily for her, but for everypony.
Sombra was... a complication.
If Celestia were to adhere to any simplicity in this moment of swaying hesitance, to try to feel like she was not floating about when she was very clearly in a hallway, anchored to her own body, it would be that even her ears, which she fought to keep perked up and not folded with that bitter unease, heard no sound but the soft thumps of her heart: all a clear indication that Sombra had used his magic to soundproof his study.
It wasn't like he needed it for anything... did he?
Was she swallowing again? No, she wasn't. She shouldn't be.
She quite literally did not immediately realize that the door had been opened for her until Sombra was staring right back at her.
Celestia hoped the hint of a smile on her face was not a nervous one, though it was only done out of instinct.
"Hello," she offered quickly, eagerly grabbing onto the chance to bring any normal start to this dreaded interaction.
Sombra eyed her grumpily. "Hello yourself," he finally mumbled, after taking a long sip from the coffee mug he clutched within his magic.
Of course, his tone had to be unfriendly still. Of course, the coffee mug had his face on it.
Celestia eyed it with disdain. Sombra's tired eyes followed her gaze to the offensive object. "It's only my smug mug, why it has to be a problem to you is beyond me. I imagine you wouldn't bother me unless you absolutely felt you had to."
"That would be correct," she said, watching Sombra's aura wind around the end of his long, loose side-braid. He twirled it thoughtfully and how his possibly-brushed bangs spilled over his face, making the morning's dark circles under his eyes look even darker.
Sombra shrugged, gulping down more hot coffee with ease. He lounged in the half-revealed doorway of his study, circlet sitting crooked on his head as the epitome of utter nonchalance. His usual cloak had been shifted into some kind of new guise, that of a long crimson housecoat or robe — the form was too general to place. It only just revealed the legs of his pale green-striped pajama pants and the large, loose shirt, which boasted the big text of 'PRETTY TIRED' spelled out entirely in rhinestones.
Celestia didn't really know what to say about knowing Sombra bought his sleepwear at Canterlot Carousel. There was really only so much she cared to take in about him, and that included his oddly feminine qualities. There was no way she could explain them, aside from the fact that in any other stallion, she would take it as an indication of... romantic unavailability, or mixed preferences. However, Celestia was certain that Sombra was too antiquated to know what those cues meant, and he was certainly too judgmental to not be prejudiced. (In other words, how Cadance tolerated him, she was unsure, and Blueblood certainly had to be protected from him.) Wearing what Celestia was quite certain was oversized mare's pajama tops didn't erase that.
He stopped toying with his mane as a schoolfilly would, and looked her up and down, kicking an unshod hoof at the castle's fine tiles with casual, but not forceful frustration. "Do you want to get whatever this is over with quicker?"
Celestia bit the edge of her lip and sighed. "Yes, that would be lovely."
Another gulp of coffee. "Fine, then come in. Just don't touch anything." He gave her a withering look and turned around. His robe — yes, she decided it was a simple robe — flared behind him with a moody, dramatic air. It seemed he'd already mastered that royal quirk.
Celestia was glad she faced his back so he would not see her swallow. Then, she forced herself to take one step forward and enter the monster's lair.
...
The door closed behind Celestia and she shivered. Sombra was already fairly at ease in his own expansive study, walking further into the room. The princess, however, stood close to the door, meditating upon the decision to leave, for the room had changed.
To her far left was what had once been a wall of glass — large windows that stretched from the floor and nearly reached the ceiling, all to let in the most of her sunlight. They were once the envy of any artist, and now only shafts of sunlight made their way through, illuminating motes of dust that swirled about them. It was the only golden light in the room, and it came through the thick, dark curtains that now obscured nearly every glimpse of glass. And between shadows and the slightest flicker of her sunlight lingering was the sinister red glow that cast peculiar shadows across every surface: the pale walls, the royal purple carpet, Sombra himself, and her own ivory coat. Above her head, clustered and floating near the dome of the ceiling was a foggy, shimmering mass of red aura, slowly turning in on itself and drifting about. There was no need to doubt that the magic simply sitting there and pulsing like a silent heartbeat was Sombra's doing.
Her heart pounded a little faster. There was always that one sorcerer, one who sought to chip a status quo and centuries of tradition that needed no damage, who saw no need to tuck away and restrain their power, their talent. It was not even a modesty issue, but Celestia supposed that could play a part in such things. What it was an issue of was how it was flaunted and woven into every aspect of life, how personal it was to liberally extend enchantment so. Magic was a part of life, but Celestia need not be reminded so.
She had Luna, who honed enchantments great and small and debated spellcraft with ease, much like the sour old stallions who called themselves mages in centuries past had, and she held an equally ancient temperament. How that was appealing, Celestia did not know, but she did know that the natural power Luna wanted to master instead of ignore was frightening.
Her thoughts need only drift to the moon resting below the horizon for the ultimate reminder of her daughter's magical capabilities. With draconequui, at least the magic had something childlike about it. There was something so innocent about a conjured bunch of sweet flowers that lightning, runes, and spell tomes did not have. Cotton candy had a sweet whimsy and a sweeter taste.
Sombra tilted his head back to give one long look to the aura, lighting his horn and pulling something from the mysterious, misty depths: a scroll. Giving the thing a quick look, Celestia could now glimpse the dark blurs that were the shifting shadows of objects among its depths. He appeared to be scanning it before guiding the aura down, what was concentrated on his horn flared more brightly for a moment before the scroll was returned to its unnatural storage.
No painting, however faded the old things would've been, hung on the walls. Instead, floor-to-ceiling bookshelves stuffed with a wide array of volumes were installed. Most were bound with fake leather, as true leather was illegal, and had their titles printed with gold leaf that shone with preservation enchantments that gave the spines and covers an unworn look. Nearly every space was crammed with row after row of these books, some of which were visibly secondhoof and had seen better days. Any variety of tome found its way onto Sombra's endless shelves, and Celestia felt as though she stood at the heart of a labyrinth of knowledge.
Cold air touched her coat, making her feel small as it worked its way under her pale hair, and seemed to stroke her mind like a fog. Must he always keep it so chilly within this chamber?
With disguised reluctance, Celestia cautiously slunk forward, her steps kept careful. She saw Sombra levitate a few volumes, their thick pages stuffed with notes and bookmarks. He tried to find their home among this vast and strangely dignified space. He looked from shelf to shelf, to find the exceptions where everything was packed tightly. Eventually, he found such spots amid makeshift bookends in the form of globes, crystal artifacts, and other instruments heavy enough in weight to manage such a task of keeping them from falling over, but small enough in size to fit where Sombra pleased.
Celestia tried to busy herself by lowering her eyes to the earthy-colored whorls of the thick carpet. It was a habit she broke long ago. Yet, when the stallion before her struck her so like Starswirl with his foul disposition, regardless of whatever differences they might have, she thought it would be best to behave so; it might make things easier to endure.
Sombra proved to be quite agile with the glimpses she caught of him and how his shadow moved — even as he rushed about, there was a skill to it. Still, that was probably to be expected from a warrior. With her daughter's status as an Alicorn taken out of consideration, Luna was still frighteningly nimble in ways that many of the dafter (of course Celestia would never say this) and common among the Royal Guard would think to be unnatural. Celestia never corrected them, even if such thinking was technically backward.
The sound of file cabinets of metal and fine, heavy wood slammed as Sombra withdrew a folder from here, a stack of papers from this one. The princess kept her expression serene and acted as though some fascination might be found with the garbage can nearby as the sound filled her ears. The pragmatic metal can was uncovered, and before she had even slowly stepped toward it, she could smell some of the contents already. There was the scent of spearmint, many used coffee grounds, an inky odor, and a mixture of foodstuffs — salad dressing, hayburger wrappers, and even more recent ones. Celestia peered deeper into the trash can and tried to block out everything that wasn't the astounding sight of leftover falafel and avocado pits.
"If you plan to eat out of my garbage, please, don't let me stop you. Though, I thought you might want something else instead."
Keeping her facade calm, the princess turned so that she looked upon the insolent little royal. She never called him anything that wasn't true herself, though he was all the fuel any rumor mill could ever desire on legs. However, certain complaints from her neighbors always proved to be bothersome. Her cousin Neptune had seen her at some of her worst manners in letters she wrote in fits of anger before she had any knowledge of Luna and Sombra... as a couple. She was desperate, yes, and hardly proud of what she wrote, but Neptune seemed to reflect upon her words. He thought of Sombra as a beast of some sort, and that his relationship with Luna was hardly different from the crime of zoophilia (Celestia felt she must disagree there, for she would have never let Luna near him if she thought that was their bond). Neptune enjoyed referring to Sombra as a 'runt' and 'small god' because of his differences from the other divine, and because he no doubt enjoyed thinking the monster to be non-sapient.
She did not totally disagree with some of his jeers, and now she looked at Sombra, wishing that a few more of them might be true. He held a pile of folders and a few volumes of books in a stack that nearly obscured his face. A non-sapient would not do that, would they? His ears flicked and perked forward while his horn still glowed, cramming papers into place and trying to rein in a book that was attempting to fly away.
The princess' eyes found the noisy ensorcelled object easily. How could they not? The faint glow of crimson clung to the pages and covers, which were opened and flapping wildly like the wings of a bird. Sombra eyed the peculiar distraction with annoyance as his own magic, and pulled the literally flighty book back into place. His telekinesis snapped it shut and the strange runes on the cover ceased their bright scarlet glow. They settled instead on a soft pulse that one would not recognize unless they eyed the cover carefully, for the outline was not clear, even from where she was.
She ducked her eyes away again, trying to shake the sight of the eldritch alphabet, the one that matched none she knew and looked positively nefarious. Had he cursed his books?
"That one," Sombra grumbled, his tone nearly scolding the object, "has proved to be a bit troublesome. The enchantment is only supposed to activate remotely if hostile magic is around. A whole shelf of them will flutter somewhere else in this great cacophony like a flock of bloody pigeons. I didn't get the work quite right on this one."
She said nothing as he fitted the stack of papers, folders, and books on the surface of a heavy work table of dark oak, the corners and surface not free from a touch of Canterlotian carvings. His rude silence was counted silently within her mind as she watched his magic ignite once more, to shuffle more papers stained with coffee rings, inkwells, mane ties, arcane diagrams, mugs in various states of coffee depletion, paper clips, and book after book away from his latest tower.
Once contact was made with the new supplies, some of the enchanted tomes revealed they too had glowing runes and became enveloped with remote enchantments. They flapped their pages to the nearest free location. Some of them even 'perched' on äerint — yes, that's what he called the unnatural crystalline substance his dark magic made — clusters that spiraled up the decorative columns of the room, clinging to the fine material of the castle.
"Would you like some coffee?" Sombra asked, brushing a bit of dust off his robe with a flicker of aura.
"Yes, please. Coffee would be nice. I trust you have sugar too?" She looked calmly towards the kitchenette Sombra had established for himself.
Everything was tucked towards a sitting area, where a dark coffee table was surrounded by two large, sturdy chairs that looked surprisingly comfortable; Celestia recognized them as what the minotaurs called armchairs. Behind them, the thick curtain could be pulled away more easily and sunlight could actually be let in. This created a fine reading area that had a view overlooking Canterlot's mountain dropoff and straight into the wilds of Equestria spread in every direction without limit. An unused firefly lantern rested among a few thick, unlabeled books on the low table.
For Celestia, it was a bit of an overwhelming thing. All of this was in such contrast with the small food preparation area, coffee maker, and miniature icebox that were pushed into a small, tidy corner from the rest of the vast room's erudite and solitary atmosphere.
Sombra's muzzle crinkled slightly. "I don't have any sugar. It will be black coffee or no coffee for you. Just sit down and I can figure something out," he finished with a dismissive wave of his forehoof before trotting over to his tiny kitchenette, as though the soft, frosty pulse of the cooling runes on his ice box called him there.
Celestia felt herself frown. "You don't have any sugar?"
"No." His muttering rose above the sound of him levitating objects once more.
"Do you have any sugar substitutes?"
"No." There was the burble of a coffee maker responding to Sombra's magic.
"...Any creamer?" she tried.
"No." He wouldn't even look at her when he was talking, instead busying himself with preparations. Some host he was.
"At least tell me that you have a little bit of milk."
Sombra finally gave her a quick look. "I have soy milk. That will have to do."
Celestia nodded, and trotted over to one of the chairs, past Sombra's book-laden work tables. Thank goodness he had something normal in here. "Can I let in some light?"
"You can sit down and wait for a few moments, can't you?" he groused.
Celestia sank into a chair quietly and sighed softly. "I merely wish to alleviate this sour atmosphere."
"Listen," he called from the kitchenette, sounding a touch exasperated, "I have no need to. Stop acting like a spoiled child just because I don't want to be distracted by the temptation that is sunbeams, and refused an unneeded request. Even Skyla is more patient than this when I let her in here, and no, I'm not bribing you with fruit snacks to keep quiet as I do with her. If you're eager to see whatever airship is flying by, you'll have to miss them for now. Read a book instead."
Celestia lowered her ears and relented, suppressing her only complaints as she levitated one of the thick books to her. She flipped open the cover and expected some magical texts that would have her asleep within a few moments, and that the contents were most likely just the arcane discussion sections that took up half of every Canterlot newspaper, or some sorcerer-professors' essays from the latest newsletters. The chill of his study was also doing Celestia's urge to nap no favors.
Instead, Celestia was greeted with the crooked, clumsy photograph of a stallion's startling red eyes, and the endless intrigue that stared back at her. Confusion at the nature of the device was there too, probably because the sharp flash of whatever camera this was taken with had caught Sombra in a moment of wild-eyed shock. What really drew Celestia into the sight of this startling photograph was the reflection that managed to reveal a partial glimpse of stars and sand dunes.
The date scribbled beneath it was recent enough, making the photo only around four years old.
Chills still ran throughout Celestia upon glancing back, but enough of her was intrigued enough to keep flipping through the pages, past the single introductory photograph.
There were only so many clues as to who took all the photographs. The clumsy grip of a toddler securing a shot of familiar metal boots towards the end was clear. Some were clearly taken by Luna, Cadance, and Shining Armor. Stray curls of Cadance's windswept mane were the giveaway for hers, but dozens of these photographs were taken by Sombra or complete strangers. Only a look of recognition in Sombra's eye made it clear that he knew them enough to take pictures of himself undisguised, or that something about them meant they would not speak of his identity.
There were dozens of photos of Sombra, clearly taken by himself, flashing smug smiles, arranging his mane just so, staring aloofly into the camera, and even caught mid-laugh towards something that was never said. Among those were haunting pictures with locations that were more distinct than most ordinary abandoned buildings. These were followed by images of train tracks stretching off into the unknown, or a meadow that could be anywhere in Equestria, dotted with vivid wildflowers. There was Sombra and Cadance standing in front of a graffiti-covered wall in what had to be Manehatten. While Sombra rolled his eyes grumpily, Cadance grinned broadly at something he must have said.
She saw a picture of Sombra, with his back to the viewer, in a windswept trench coat as he stood on the deck of an airship, looking to Celestia like the loneliest creature in the world as he stared up at distant ships in the sky. That one had to be taken by Luna. He smiled in some, and that was startling. An image of Sombra with an almost bashful half-smile was an odd sight to her, though the softer look in his eyes as he watched Luna feather-comb locks of his mane wasn't entirely new to her. She never thought much of it though, and Luna had a habit of doing such things regardless of who was around.
Another had Sombra and Luna in some green space — a lush Canterlot park, the mountain, or a spot on a neighboring peak — with their backs toward Cadance. Celestia knew her to be the photographer by the sight of a telltale curl, and Luna's wing wrapped around Sombra as she pulled him close. Sombra scowled when Luna eagerly took pineapple from a slice of pizza he was just about to bite into, his eyes on her all the while, but he never stopped her. Celestia thought that he would desire to hurt any who stole from him, and why would a spouse be any different?
There was another curious image Luna had taken, because the way Sombra looked past the camera made it clear Luna was the only one who could be the photographer, that, and how the horizon was as crooked as Sombra's roguish smile. There was a cut on his cheek, and a scrape here and there where his cloak allowed it to show, with something brash and distinctly young in his eyes as sweat showed beneath his mane. There was a sword behind Sombra stuck into the springy soil beside him so he could lean against it. Magic aura in a storm of colors somewhere between scarlet and his dark aura was still crackling on his horn and touched the hilt of the sword.
That was how Sombra found her too, looking intently at the many photographs stored within such plain-looking albums.
He wordlessly tugged the book from her grip and set it down so that the coffee tray could be set atop it. But he didn't look offended. Enigmatic and relaxed, yes, but not offended.
"Thank you," Celestia said the automatic words as she folded her wings behind her and brought the coffee to her muzzle where she could blow on the steam with ease.
She nearly choked on her breath when she saw the mug that she had been given. The design flickered and changed like any properly done illusion of its nature, but the design was still clear. She had become used to seeing it stamped into wax: the Eye of Fire, Sombra's chosen seal.
As quickly as she could, she recovered and composed herself. "Why are you watching me so intently?"
From where Sombra had sprawled himself across the other chair like some glamorous model, an eyebrow was arched in unspoken acknowledgment. "You shouldn't be thanking me for things unless you mean it. To do otherwise is foolish, and irritating too."
He looked her over again, trying to find something she didn't know of. "Unless, of course, you aim to be insincere to me."
Wasn't she usually? To most ponies, at least? But it was really only at certain times. Truly.
Why should he be any different?
"Ah, so that would be why the only thing you have only thanked me for was helping with your wedding?" Her tone was tranquil, but her words were not meant to be.
"Pretty much," Sombra said with a shrug. He gulped down some more coffee from his own 'smug mug', watching her with a relaxed, quiet demeanor. To Celestia, it was odd. Too odd. "I do a lot of things, but I won't lie to you. I don't have much of a reason to."
She did believe that for a minute. Nothing he said did him any favors, and soy milk certainly wasn't doing her coffee any, either. It just didn't taste quite right.
"I see."
Sombra slumped back into his chair, staring up at the dome of the ceiling and the magic there, watching it move with an almost worried look on his face. "You're never going to believe anything I say, and... I'm not entirely surprised. For what it's worth, I know that sometimes I'm terrible."
She pretended her coffee was still warm when she drank it, and tried not to think of Twilight Sparkle. Instinct, however, won in the end. "Are you sorry for how you have treated Twilight Sparkle at any point in her life?"
His eyes drifted over toward her, absent of anything smug, but no more readable than before. "No. That is something I can't say I have remorse for. Still, I'm no more perfect than you." He laughed, but not happily. "There's certainly a side to me that I'm not terribly proud of, but it's me all the same. I could never loathe myself, and I would break my own heart if I did. My regrets are few... and personal; I try to live without them. Do you think I don't notice how quiet you've been today? Has something happened?"
Celestia looked at the stack of papers and books he had arranged. They still sat on one of his worktables, or at least, one of the ones that were not cluttered with tools and restored Old World crystal projectors (Celestia wasn't sure she wanted to know what he went through to get such relics). They were displaying sights not seen by any common creature in ages: light maps, not unlike the Old World map crystal she had of the Crystal Empire, showing off designs for thaumic engines far exceeding anything in the present, airships with models out of stories from Celestia's early foalhood, magical readings too far away to be clearly legible, and other things that made a feeling of cold unease spread through Celestia's stomach. Suddenly, Sombra's study was feeling quite toasty.
"No, I'm here to discuss something that has come up with you. I'm not certain why you assumed you would need that." She gestured with a foreleg to the materials he gathered.
Sombra blinked, clearing most of the distant look in his eyes. "That..." he tugged at his braid in thought. "You came here for something else?"
"Yes, I came to discuss matters involving your inclusion in the Royal Portrait. I can't say I have any idea where your, ah, choice of conversation and need to gather things comes from."
Celestia thought that demons must be terribly fast, because Sombra sat right up, wide-eyed and alert like a cat that had heard their dinner bowl being filled. His ears perked to catch something that might not be there. Or maybe it was only something demons heard? Celestia did not know if demons had hearing that was any better or worse than a pony's or an Alicorn's.
He snatched up his circlet and set it crookedly on his head, scrambling out of the chair with only slightly more elegance than Celestia imagined him to be capable of, and his eyes were on her once more, and then on his materials.
What were they for? Why was he looking at them that way, with a shifty red gaze?
"Would you be able to stay longer?"
That's exactly what Celestia did not want, even if she could certainly spare the time. "And what," Celestia said with a smile she disliked giving him, "would you want me to stay and discuss?"
She wished it would be none of his existential queries.
Sombra snatched the top folder up in his magic. "My project for Equestria." He cocked his head to the side, blinking and watching her. "Would 'project' be an appropriate name? Luna's proposition to use her newly discovered dreamwalking to guide the youth of Equestria wasn't exactly a multi-step project, and since my idea is far more secular, I thought it would be better to refer to it as such."
It really matters little to me what you call it. "Call it what you wish... and yes, I suppose I can stay for that."
Sombra's tail swished with all the giddiness the rest of him lacked, but he managed to look quite attentive too. "Should we get started, then?"
Celestia combed through her mane with a slow sweep of her aura. "Yes... but first: why did you make such a strange effort to converse?"
Sombra's magic pulled their mugs back onto the tray he had carried them with. Celestia's ears caught him mumbling that he would get more before his words were spoken clearly. "I was only trying to talk with you, Celestia. Is that such a crime?"
"And why did you feel you must? It seems unlike you."
He scoffed, and she caught a glimpse of his teeth. In his photos with Cadance and Luna, they were fangs, but here they were not. He did disguise them, then. Why was that? "You're the mare who was just browsing my photographs. I'm more than a little standoffish, but do you really think that I don't talk to ponies at all? Complete strangers have been comfortable enough taking pictures of me because I ask them to. I enjoy intelligent conversation and spending time with my friends." He paused, tail swishing with thought. "My friends and Glitter Sprinkle. He's not bad for teasing, so I'll be generous with allowing him in there."
"...You call Shining Armor 'Glitter Sprinkle'?"
He actually chuckled! "Among other things. And yet you still think that because I'm a dreaded introvert I'm incapable of talking with you? I may not like you, but I'm still the one who comes to your office every day to wave and pick up a pile of papers, so forgive me if I have the nerve to speak in your presence."
He finished by rolling his eyes. That, at least, was entirely expected.
...
When the princess imagined Sombra's project, she did not expect the answer she was given. A political endeavor was anticipated, something to secure more power than he already had. It took one look around at the numerous personal weapons hung upon the ceiling, there was the impression that half of his personal armory hung just below the shifting red fog of aura that held whatever trinket he wished. Could she really think herself presumptuous for looking at him and anticipating the wants of a warlord? To hear 'education reforms' instead had her quiet. Surprise was clear on her face, confusion in her eyes, and mouth in a tiny, astonished 'o'.
Where might this go?
She sipped her coffee steadily and watched the stallion, poised and and standing before her with a determination clear in his eyes.
"Are you going to gawk at me all day, or will I get to continue?"
Sombra's even tone wasn't the usual biting one she often anticipated from him, and she took his words to be his own version of asking if it would be appropriate to keep speaking.
She cleared her throat politely. "Y-You may. Please, go on. What is it about education reforms that you feel must be discussed?"
Yes, what indeed? she wondered as she looked over the vast amount of books within Sombra's study one last time. He even had wheeled Archive carts in to hold all the materials he viewed, and he had certainly put plenty on them — more than even Archive-guards allowed Faithful Students to borrow at once. So clearly, he had immersed himself among those shelves all alone, browsing dusty artifacts, scrolls, and books to wheel back to his own shut-off world for far too long. What else could such productivity mean other than passions best clipped away?
The little butterflies of doubt and nerve flared up again, reminding her of the peace that everypony but her and Sombra knew.
She and Sombra... having something in common. The thought was mortifying.
For a moment, her mind convinced itself that she was dizzy with something. Fear, maybe? Whatever it was, it made her coffee taste sour quite suddenly (and no, it was not the soy milk). Her vision swam just a bit.
What could he possibly think is wrong with the schools of Equestria? she thought as she took in all of Sombra's journals, laying open on his work tables, tucked among proud spellbooks, and dominating their own shelves, row after row of them...
Her stomach clenched. There was a strange photograph on a wall, one that called to her sudden bout of ill worry. Within it was a place that seemed to have no light, no ground, and no sky. There was only a building of magnificent light, and a grand one, with the shadow of what could have been a pony visible before it. It stuck in her mind because she thought it might be a metaphor or still from a film. She knew no place such as that, so it must be false, and later she might ask Sombra about it...
The breaking of something sounded in her ears, ringing out to the point where it sounded like it was in her ancient bones too.
She heard a growl, a yelp, something of the sort. A deep yowl that had to have come from the biggest feline there was.
The princess then realized that she had dropped her coffee mug; it splintered on the ground. She looked at its remains and felt so cold, even as Sombra's red eyes seemed to be brighter with the pain, for hot coffee had been spilled upon him.
Hot coffee had been spilled upon him...
An icy feeling struck Celestia, she lept up, magic lit anew, though she did not trust its strength as she pulled Sombra towards her. She kept her grip upon his foreleg tight and firm because she knew it was a wild, foul beast she brought near to her, and it was the leg of a violent untamed thing she held in her magic's fragile grip. The pieces of the coffee mug would have to wait.
Sombra said nothing now, and just looked on with what might have been distrust as she stroked his coat roughly with the worn, unfamiliar quilt she had pulled from the back of the chair. She heard herself, over and over again, saying:
"I am so sorry, I am so sorry, I am so sorry... so sorry..."
Their talk would have one more delay, it seemed.
What really was at the forefront of her mind, though, was how Sombra was positively petrified and statue-stiff at every instance of contact between them. He stood utterly still in the sense that he made no effort to pry himself from her grip, and though he was the wrathful one between them, it was Sombra who was shaking in her grip.
...
Sombra's confidence was not brought down by the cloth bandages obtained for his legs — he would not let Celestia heal any of the minor burns that lurked under his coat. He looked for all the world like he wanted to scream at her or shove her away every moment she hadn't let him go.
She looked at the spot on the floor where his broken mug had been, even though she did not feel his eyes on her.
"Learning you had a school after all these years surprised me, Celestia. You never struck me as the type to be a teacher. Whatever paladin phase that you were going through when the Empire, Onyx, and myself were sealed away just seems to have evaporated, hm?"
"Yes," Celestia replied cautiously, watching him carefully from the corner of her eye, "I suppose you could put it like that."
Sombra levitated a folder from his pile, aloofly using his magic to play with the tab Celestia wasn't able to read. He flicked it back and forth with whatever fragment of interest he had concentrated only on its movements. "Your image has changed considerably in ways since I last recall. Harmony's own fiery and foolhardy paladin who purged the land of the draconequus-god hides her plans and shadier movements with more than fire now, doesn't she?"
He shot her a sharp look. "What is it they call you now, 'the Matron of Equestria'? The differing reputation is still so alike at the core: a force that attempts to create order, a peacemaker at any cost, only now through words instead of might, a mare of the unimportant everypony. More than that, you're the most obvious origin of nearly everything in Equestria's culture, if you dig deep enough and look at the roots of everything. Still, I would not have ever taken you to be actively involved in doing anything more than dictating what is allowed and forbidden within any institution dedicated to educating anypony. Actual instruction and cultivation of minds is not anything I can see you as inclined to — now, generation farming, that is far more expected from you."
"...And?" Celestia said, tilting her head slightly and trying to make the tightening of her jaw appear to blend naturally into a small smile. She would give him none of the inevitable confirmation to his words that he sought, not from her own mouth, at least. Though... why did he speak of this so-called 'generation farming' as though it were something sinister? It certainly didn't sound all that horrid, or even clear in what it was supposed to be.
"Celestia," he looked straight at her, now carrying himself with ease as he spoke that name. She really wished he were still in a position to call her 'princess', though he really never had, "what you have done is no different from using a torch to light a candle and claiming some spontaneous transformation has taken place, and that you have changed as if anypony could. It only amuses me. I'm a stallion of my word, and take it from a stallion with regrets: if you can butcher my history, I can dust off some of yours for a bit of discussion here and there."
You are wrong. I've most certainly changed. Do you look upon me and think that I would repeat all my mistakes and that my differing image is no indicator of a transformation of spirit? I think you look at me and think that all the time. It is such a great falsehood to claim that we never change. I know I have only ever done that. Luna did too with the light of the Elements. I have seen so much change, and I know that while evil may only ever fall to good, you beast, no evil could ever do the reverse. Don't think that I would hesitate to protect any from you.
She wanted the depths of her eyes to say that to him, even if her smile was still polite.
You cannot sit there and tell me that what I have seen is anything except change. If it isn't change, then what could it be? What could you ever know of such things? He was so insolent! And still, there was a grace that burned in her and would demand that she add: You have no destiny, and for that, I’m deeply sorry that you can never know anything but the parody of life your dark, tainted existence holds. You simply do not know your place, and I’m not sure if a faux-creature like you can. It simply isn’t the way things are destined to be.
But she held back any fire where only embers could prove to be of use.
She could think of no real reply against a stallion that always liked to twist many of her steps backward and watch her back into a corner that would not lead to an argument against his lies. Those would eventually erupt in a fight that would ensnare her and destroy the purpose of this meeting, and break so much she had to maintain of herself as others saw her. Especially for Luna's sake.
"I see," she said, nodding to his folder, "now what is it that you have in there? Is that what we shall be starting with?"
His answer was to flip it open brusquely and wave out an unexpected surprise, but one not unfamiliar to her eyes: an ancient document, with the faint glimmer of preservation magics on it and keeping her very own seal intact, as writing from ages and ages ago met her eyes once more.
In the aftermath of Discord's hold on the young nation she and Luna came to possess, and the mysterious death of Platinum that had brought him there, the city then known as Canterlote was in upheaval. War had been halted, but the stately stone city of mines, markets, magic, and might was not prosperous in all this. It had been Canterlote that served as a stronghold and refuge against the chaos magic that flew from naive Discord himself. Such power practically had a will of its own.
Food ran low, and worry high. The need for great magic to serve others and the growing kingdom was clear. Property from the war was turned over Celestia, their new absolute ruler, and here was the deed that she had written for herself and organized so her claims would not be disputed. It was the deed for her School of Gifted Unicorns, which in the time following Discord's banishment was almost a code, 'gifted' being any unicorn who could be trained for a life of great service, with a great lean towards military life. That aspect was long gone, as she soon needed the establishment to net her something else once Luna was banished. Military school became separate from the private academy's vision, but service never was.
And now Sombra was holding the ancient deed right in front of her, his magic an odd caress to the document she never would have wanted it to have. "We will be starting with this."
She nodded mutely, still rather entranced by the spell of memory.
With that affirmation, Sombra finally sat himself down, eyeing the paper. "You are not just the owner of the School, but the Headmistress and highest authority of it, are you? Not even a paperclip could be dropped without your approval."
He looked at her with sharp curiosity, not asking for an answer he already knew — this stallion had done his research — but to see how she replied.
The princess lowered her eyes modestly and dipped her head into a nod. "That would be correct. I do not own it in name only; I am faculty as well," she chuckled conversationally, in hopes of lightening the tension she felt as magical instruments ticked on in the background and the pages of books flapped about, "and to the oldest and finest boarding school and university in all Equestria, no less! Dear me, I do feel a bit ancient now. Even that school is our junior, and every tree on the campus too! Did you know that the only school in Equestria older than my own is an old earth pony grove-and-schoolhouse establishment in Hoofington?"
Sombra nodded calmly, and Celestia felt distrust grow in her stomach. "I learned that in my research. I went there, as well. The museum's staff..." his gaze nearly fell "...were hardly welcoming to me. Luna had to tell me all about it instead, which only reminded me how glad I am to have married a mare who loves info-dumping about history as much as she does." And it was when he spoke her name that a kinder-looking light returned to his eyes, softer than what Luna called his 'fierce intellect' shining there. "As far as honeymoons go, visiting a historical site is far from a bad choice for a destination."
Celestia blinked. Sombra skipped a proper honeymoon in order to go on a research trip for his project? That was incredibly inconsiderate. With how Luna had been so jolly and all the packing she had remembered Sombra doing, she had imagined the trip to Hoofington they had taken so shortly after their wedding was one of pleasure and leisure, a genuine honeymoon on Sombra's part, in an attempt to impress the bride he coveted so much.
"Not a single decision can be made without your approval, behind those four walls. Would you agree?"
He already knew the answer. She did not need to confirm it. The shrewd look in Sombra's eyes was back, and the left corner of his mouth was curled just so. He held himself with force and ease. She sat across from a snake, but just like any other snake, she would not know if his bite contained venom until he bit her. Until then, all Celestia knew was that over a thousand years had told her that Sombra was a snake, like many others.
But she could still never read those eyes.
"You write and dictate the entire curricula for almost every single class..." Those last three words were three flicks of the folder's tab, once he had slipped the deed back inside and withdrawn a few more papers, flipping them between his hooves with ease. There was a knowing look in his eye as he watched the papers' movements, as though thinking he had found gold.
Really, he probably had, with most everything he had access to being beyond public knowledge. "...and even when you don't, everything has to go past you first. The same is true for every other school in Equestria. Everything taught in this nation was approved by you at some point... or written by you." He stopped playing with his papers and looked at her quietly and directly, with something she could not discern.
"I see," the princess said sweetly, "Is this truly what you want to spend your time talking about? Throwing such baseless accusations of anything against the history that I lived through? Where were you then? Why, something tells me that you weren't there."
Sombra scowled immediately and his jaw clenched. This time, his eyes said everything his silence didn't: anger burned there.
"I think we both know that you were sealed in ice while history was being made. So, please, take care not to lecture me on history of all things. Especially, when you did not live through a single bit of it."
Outwardly, she maintained her calm shell, a sweet smile across her face. Inwardly, her stomach was doing flips on itself at the sight of Sombra's baleful glare, and just how angry he looked. The aura on his horn was looping about the odd curve of it with a painfully slow pace, a silent taunt to all the ways he could form his magic... all the things he could do. It was idle and practiced, like the strokes of a knife, and even the sparks working their way through light were quiet, there was something so poised about them. His pose was strangely looming.
He was nearly dismembering her with just his gaze.
Celestia concealed a swallow.
"I think," Sombra began, his tone like tracing the very edge of a blade slowly across her throat, "that you know better than to anger me by now." Ever so slowly, he tilted his head to the side, and she could see how obvious the curl of purple eye-smoke was, and the shift that was starting. "Don't you?"
The back of Celestia's neck was freezing. "Yes," she said but her voice was stuck in a near-whisper, "You might hurt somepony else... and I cannot have that."
Dark aura lept to his horn, and Celestia felt a sudden spike of moderate pain as he gripped a chunk of her mane, with a skill that told her that he had to have handled Luna's mane in some way before, for Alicorn manes did not respond to ordinary arcane grips. He tugged at it roughly, something that Luna could never tolerate. Tia had spent far too many centuries brushing Luna's mane. She knew even half the harshness Sombra showed her now would produce only tears and pouts from Luna.
Celestia gasped, not in pain — because truthfully it was the shock that got to her more.
Seeing her reaction caused all Sombra's magic to dim, and that little corner of his mouth to turn upward even more... but his eyes still looked so angry. All the coldness had fallen from his eyes, infused with how he moved his mouth. Whatever attempt at a smile or smirk he was making right now was just as fake as most of hers were; at least right now they could both be frauds.
"I did not allow you here so you could belittle me, nor do I think that was your intention. Why are you starting now? Our conversation wasn't in dire straits until you started acting like a brat."
Celestia's mouth moves before her mind does. "That is such a silly accusation, I was most certainly not acting like—"
His horn lights quickly. A lock of her mane finds itself in his grip once more, and Celestia is utterly frozen at the suddenness. Though his grip is light and it gives her no pain this time, it does not help her rising nerves.
"Starswirl practically programmed you," Sombra muttered, but more to himself than her, "here you are an untouchable idol to all our subjects, and behind all of it you're... something even I don't know..."
His horn dims and she didn't realize she could hear her own heartbeat again, but her mind was sliding back from the cold place it went, far, far away from what was happening. Her expression felt unreadable as ever, and that was good. Then she felt her again, the fact that she was Celestia as well as the princess, and what a millstone around her neck it was! She always loathed that part, the shroud of identity thrown atop her.
...And it's all your fault. That was what her eyes said to Sombra.
He was simply stoic. "You were acting like a brat... as for what I did?" She felt the hair of her coat prickling at the base of her mane again as he looked her over coolly. This display of stark disinterest was just as sudden as his aggression had been.
Such unsettling red eyes... monster eyes...
"I shouldn't have done it. If you want to leave, I won't protest." He levitated his folder about again. "This can wait another day... and I won't do that again, ever. I promise."
He's promising something... to me? Celestia blinked quickly. What exactly makes such a thing from him remotely trustworthy? He's a demon and a murderer. It seems even Luna has forgotten this... and yet, I am left here, having to live under the same roof as this stallion. I wake up every day to wonder what it is that might be going through his head that makes him think any of his disrespectful actions are acceptable. It has become my duty to mind him as he stumbles about, and I carry the sole burden of managing a beast.
She stares at the floor for a moment, her own snippy thoughts falling like pebbles into a well once formed: their echoes soft and passive in a mind that could only seethe so much, and tried so hard to allow itself no anger. Such emotions carried all the value of pulp in a pumpkin set to be a jack-o-lantern — they were best unacknowledged, smothered, and eviscerated.
He has the nerve to promise anything to me... I think that all this is surely ridiculous now, that any of this is happening. He may be powerful, but he is still a monster, and one on thin ice at that. There is nothing he could possibly get away with... I'm safe.
The last part felt like a lie...
Celestia pressed her forehooves together. Doing so allowed her to feel the cold soles of her gold shoes pressing against each other. The sensation carried from the frogs of her hooves to her patterns within their confines, each hoof so neatly separated from its twin by that chilly metal. "I shall stay, provided you have more than such silly accusations against me."
A frown. Of course, that was what she got from him. "You'll be staying?" He tilted his head downward, his bangs slipping into his eyes, and when he spoke again his voice was lower, "I only mean to intimidate, Celestia... not to pull anything terrible into the light."
About Starswirl, his eyes seemed to say, all too knowingly.
As was typical, there seemed to be much more that those eyes were hiding. Previously nervous wavers of her mane had resumed to a steady, sluggish ripple — one that was often unfortunate when ponies stood next to her — as she tilted her head gently to the side. The curl that clung forever to the side of her cheek tapped gently against her skin.
She smiled slowly. It was a disarming smile, or at least, it was meant to be to most who saw it. A flash of kindness to stun a little pony who thought they did wrong, to reassure them they stood before a soft, motherly, sunbeam of a mare, and that her feelings weren't hurt. In distant ages now past, she used it as part of a to say that there was nothing remotely disturbing about the image or name of Nightmare Moon — her short silence was merely the product of some other thoughts, what could her little pony possibly be thinking?
That sort of thing.
It was a lying smile, and she was never sure if Sombra could see past it. Most couldn't.
Luna usually couldn't, but family had ways, whether she liked it or not.
"I said that I shall be staying, so that is what I shall do... and I think it will be more than important for me to stay and hear what it is that you might do for Equestria, since your priorities tend to be, ah, 'misplaced'. "
If Celestia's words had been a window she had fitted between her and Sombra so she could wave from the other side, safe and secure, then Sombra's glare was a sledgehammer against the glass.
"I trust that I can begin, then?" There was a terse edge to his words.
"Of course," Celestia wrung her hooves a little nervously, "I'm sure we have much to discuss! You see, I'm more than curious as to why you would want to make any changes to the schools of Equestria. This nation has an extremely high literacy rate. There are few problems with the schools in our kingdom that I have ever had to address."
Sombra raising an eyebrow at her statement felt so utterly disrespectful, though he said nothing, and did nothing other than listening quietly and keeping the folder he clutched close.
"Why, in fact, the curricula of all education establishments in Equestria, which you show such disdain for—"
"—is only taught in schools once it is approved by you," Sombra interjected swiftly. "Only home-schooled foals are able to get past this barrier — one that makes teaching royalty-approved curricula..."
"As if any country had curricula that wasn't approved in some similar fashion," Celestia said with a tiny snort, especially upon realizing she had interrupted him this time around. Oops!
"...with credentials that are not only suspicious upon second glance, but nearly as strict as the code placed on those comic-novels," Sombra grumbled, shooting her another sharp look. "That is what destroys your 'everypony else does it' nonsense. Of course, it is standard for any competent ruler to know what goes on within their schools. What isn't a standard is for a ruler with no experience in the relevant fields to author so damn much of it when delegating that task to education's respective technocrats is the more responsible method to getting accurate, effective material."
"Excuse me for wishing there to be some moral sensibility among ponies. This nation was founded on Harmony, after all, and I find that this favor of technocrats, as you call them, do nothing to enrich society or understand how to return the kindness of a populace. Something about the society that has been established should reflect that, don't you think?" She smiled.
Sombra brought his hooves to his face, sighed heavily, and began anew. "The history books of Equestria have most of their content from something that you have said, written, or have an established connection to, meaning that even if you didn't have your hoof in the matter, your influence and 'edits' are present and observable. If overreliance on you wasn't enough, this carries over to the accounts of events and cultures that you were irrelevant to. The content of this country's education system is frequently subject to ridicule and dissected in numerous foreign reports throughout the ages, many authored by and contributed to or involving Equestrian emigrants, all of perfectly credible backgrounds. This isn't a secret, but there's nothing of it brought to or discussed by the common pony of the era. The results of these publishings are ignored by willful ignorance rather than actually being pulled from ponies — except for the full versions, which are illegal for commoners to possess here. There isn't a single report that's been remotely accepted by any domestic Equestrian scholar's publicly circulated works works."
And he doesn't think that is for a reason? He had some nerve falsely calling the ponies of Equestria 'ignorant' as well.
She watched how confident he was, how assured, and how there suddenly was a notable air of dark charisma to this stallion — dark, at least, to her — as ambition lit up his eyes and he continued to speak.
"I found that drop-outs of the Equestrian school systems tend to have the most easily corrected issues upon re-examination. Instead are quietly swept away, and I have everything you might require here, if you would like to see what I have to back up my words." To indicate this, he gave a small nod in the direction of his books before flipping through another paper. "Your legal drop-out age is twelve, which is five full years before graduation. Even the Element Bearers show common cultural patterns. I found the proof that the Bearer of Generosity graduated from the finishing school she was boarded at. The Bearer of Laughter had her homeschooling discontinued alongside what looks to be two of her sisters, all of them citing 'earth pony tradition' — as if that should be an accepted excuse — with the intent to put their future in farm labor, roam-springas, with possible apprenticeships. In that order."
"I do not see what is wrong with respecting their culture," muttered Celestia.
There was the sound of magic gripping paper quite furiously, yet Sombra did not tear the results from all of his snooping. "Your earth ponies have a culture filled with so many echoes of ignorance as a clear and defined foundation! That's what's wrong! They make up the majority of the population, and from the most oh-so-traditional Old Order Puddinites to the most garish and upward Manehattanite, this trend gallops like a heart ready for cardiac arrest. No nation can be considered fit when the citizens are so damn lacking — and not every tradition is worth keeping! Your job is one that implicitly carries the responsibility of you getting your populace to overcome itself, especially its most fatal traditions and ignorance of the past. Your schools need to re-emerge from something other than a legacy of ex-tribal earth ponies' first pastoral one-room shacks. Then you don't have to have pegasus fillies who work menial gardening, sewing, and pet care jobs as soon as they're emancipated from foster homes. You have all the power to do away with the concept of a filly of twelve pushed to drop out and into a Junior Weather Trade program because your pegasus camps and classrooms are so uniquely useless at handling attention disorders. Only half of your Element Bearers have a high school diploma — and this isn't considered surprising by any publishing a mailpony could plop onto your porch. How in Tartarus' name does anything function?"
"It functions," Celestia said, voice soft, "on many important traditions that my ponies are deeply humbled to call their own. My ponies need different truths to thrive. All the learning you propose is going to keep them from living. It only serves to blind them to their communities and the importance of the most democratic elements of this nation. Of course, I would not expect you to appreciate such diverse opportunities or understand the value of life and what my ponies do in the brief time they have compared to you and me."
Sombra glared flatly at her. "Yes," he began, his tone completely mirthless, "I suppose it was in poor taste for me to try and divorce ignorance from democracy. Now, may I continue, or are you going to be a passive-aggressive hindrance for the rest of this meeting?"
For once, Princess Celestia said nothing, and Sombra evidently took that as enough of a reason to continue.
"There is a notable increase in Equestrian young adults who failed in school environments becoming mercenaries and other similar subcultures made up of transients and vagabonds like myself. I know you hate the existence of it terribly, and I could pull out all relevant materials — including some interesting domestic reports about said drop-outs, interviewed criminals, information from criminal investigations, and other abnormalities over the years. While they are admittedly not a large percentage of the population in any way, I still think that what you have is a system you keep broken and irrationally biased on purpose, but that doesn't mean it's not a cruel system as it currently stands. I can prove it."
"I trust you obtained this 'information' through your research entirely devoted to... Equestrian sources? I would like to be able to take what you say seriously." Will he believe that? "So, please, allow me a perspective that deserves authority on the matter. A blacksmith should not lecture a painter on her craft, nor should the painter act as though she has any authority at the forge."
He actually laughed at her, and such a dry sound it was! "Hardly! All those trips I've been taking recently were much-needed research trips. Do you think I would limit myself to domestic resources?"
Her smile shrank a little. It was the same smile for when a Faithful Student mentioned their homework being late, among other similar occasions. "Oh my... that is a little concerning to hear that you have been obtaining such a needless amount of information on a subject that few would have such authority on... except Equestrians. Now, I would gladly like to offer you extra resources, all entirely Equestrian, that treat the school system here with the dignity it deserves and the positive light you cruelly chose to steal from it in an attempt to get at me. I highly suggest you memorize that word too, Sombra. 'Dignity' is something you will need in your rule. But, please, continue."
Now she saw how he narrowed his eyes, and how sharp he seemed, how his tone struck harder, but was as precise in its strength as a blacksmith's hammer was against an anvil. There was such a stubborn way with how he held himself and how he shaped his words, one that caused something deep in her to tremble just a bit, because even staring into Tirek's eyes had been a challenge. This was a dangerous stallion.
"I refuse your request. I have read through, investigated, gathered, and made note of sources from multiple nations — including this one, so don't you dare look at me like that. Each is from across hundreds of years, and that does not exclude obtaining information from Equestria's willing allies. You can slap that own sweet little smile off your face because I certainly won't be — even if you were worth that much."
She couldn't even tell if he took enjoyment in how she let out one of the tiniest of offended gasps.
"You will also speak nothing to me of the subject of dignity," he said firmly. "Since you have been invited into my study, you have done nothing but behave as a child does. Not once have you removed your crown, or ripped that disgusting facade away so I could even pretend to get along with you. You feign interest in something that's important to me solely so you can make terrible rebuttals against it."
The chuckle he gave was almost sinister, and sent chills down the princess' spine. "You have not even realized that I'm not sitting here in fantastic pajamas so I can ask you to change the cancerous infestation that is primarily the Equestrian concept of 'history' and your monopoly over numerous artifacts and other items of historical importance, never to see anything outside of Equestria, and the Archives that royalty like the two of us can access. No, that's hardly what I want from this."
A cold smile played across his lips, and there was a ruthless light in his eyes. "Do you know what terrible, wicked things I want to do to your schools, Celestia? Can you bear to hear the malice that school-foals will face because of the wrath of the eldritch god that I, the Right-Honourable God-Prince Sombra Galaxia the Mad demand be my horrifyingly altruistic reign of terror?" He flashed his fangs just barely, and somehow that was more terrible than the full sight of them to Celestia.
"N-no, what is it? What is it that you really want?" She was terribly confused now, but concerned as well, for why would Sombra sound triumphant and boastful? Such a thing could only happen if he were planning something bad, for he was not able to win at anything without her losing.
And then, with a gesture dripping with a false sense of coyness and smug self-awareness, Sombra raised a forehoof in a feigned attempt to hide how malicious his smile was. There was a dance of fire in his eyes, framed by those roguish bangs, and a tilt to his head as he sat still half-sprawled. The movement only made his smile all the more crooked.
"I would like to introduce three core concepts to fix the atrocious system in place without touching the content in it that you consider to be such an excellent curriculum. Though, I think I've done a good enough job suggesting why foreign students rarely attend Equestrian schools, but only a fair fraction of your young populace is willing to be educated outside of the borders when situations that permit that arise. I can't say much of the adults and magical university students."
Celestia drew a deep, even breath. "And what would these three things happen to be? What makes you think that any of them would truly be great services to the creatures of Equestria? This, I would like to know."
Sombra sat up straight, unflappable, and focused, yet how he looked at her told her that he was doubtful of her questions. The look he gave her picked her apart in so little time, almost asking her why she bothered.
"There absolutely must be a complete overhaul of how students are accepted into magic schools, particularly because nearly all of them follow some kind of example that your school uses... and your school has the absolute worst acceptance system there is. And yes, I get to say that. I was the one who had to look over what every school remotely like yours in the whole Eastern Continent did to be able to say that."
Celestia simply gawked at him. What was it that he thought gave him such a right to speak of the best institution for magical and moral values in all of Equestria, one that still held the whisper of prestige in foreign lands?
"And what," she said sternly, "are these other two 'reforms' going to be about?"
If both are even a quarter as outrageous as his first accusation, then he'll be lucky if he can still have his little desk job when this discussion is over.
Maybe she did mean it as an empty threat: he was useful, among other things that kept him in his position, but did she not get to offer herself some consolation for dealing with him?
Sombra simply ignored her tone and fetches a considerable stack of papers from his pile, and shuffles them accordingly with levitation. His eyes scanned their surface, and he really paid her little mind, as though the contents were more important to him than the conversation. "The second is a cause that I had to bring up with you, regarding the lack of proper facilities to provide for non-pony students at camps and schools for colts and fillies."
There is absolutely no way that he is being truthful in such a matter. Equestria is such a loving place, and my ponies have one of the highest standards of living in the known nations. To call such important social centers inadequate is not likely to amount to much at all, no matter the value that we place on absolute assimilation.
"The third matter would be?" Celestia asked, resisting the un-princess-like urge to force her words through clenched teeth like a serpent's hiss.
Sombra looked up from the documents floating in his aura to give her a look. It was a raised eyebrow, and almost parental look, with a small slyness to it. This look begged for an explanation as to why it perceived her behavior as juvenile.
Her, foalish? How mistaken such a look was, and she was able to present it with a statue facade.
"The last matter I wanted to discuss with you was the quality of education that differs drastically from every city. A simple example of these situations is that unicorns in Tall Tale will have a better education than unicorn foals in towns like Ponyville, simply because of the school structure and Tall Tale's status primarily as a unicorn town. They have the resources to properly teach unicorns, just as Appleloosa won't have a flight or magic school." He shuffled a few of his papers, adding in a lighter tone than she had heard from him since she overheard how he spoke to Luna at Hearth's Warming. "Tall Tale does have a very large earth pony community, seeing as documents here in Canterlot prove the local rumors true: the pegasus minority there doesn't work outside of weather tasks, which is surprising for this nation and era. There's such an earth pony fascination with folklore there too; I certainly would like to return..." He trailed off, eyes clear with some recollection she deemed trivial.
What was he attempting to do with this... tangent? she thought as she ducked her gaze toward the curtain, longing for a bit of sunshine on her coat. "Ah. You've been there before, then?"
He didn't look at her, but he nodded with an enthusiasm she thought was startling for such a dour stallion... and normal for anypony else. "I have! Trips from old errands have taken me there. You were looking through my photos, were you not? Did you get to any of the airship festivals they have? I took Luna there once. They have five entire post-secondary schools dedicated to the craft of a bard. Seeing the evolution of trades traditional to particular pony races is quite the subject, isn't it?"
Celestia nodded idly when she heard his question finally end. "Yes, they are such a rich part of the equinities," she added so that it would be less obvious she was looking for a clock... only to see he didn't appear to have one.
Crabapples.
She saw instead, his expression falling a little. Why? What was he expecting her to do?
He didn't actually want her to... banter with him... did he? Celestia's calm expression stretched into a small smile that she thought would prove sufficient and help her swallow all the lovely mixed feelings that just crawled within her whenever Sombra got like... this.
"Tall Tale does have some lovely little bed and breakfast establishments. Very sensible, though such places rarely have royal suites."
Shuffling papers and turning pages of books ceased. "I like the parks," he said, ears perking forward. "They have just the right mix of northern conifers and southern willows to feel so... isolated," he spoke the last word with a breath of relief and wonder that Celestia would never associate with the word. "A fall trip would be fun. I'm sure everything would look like something out of the little breezie stories Pink One has me read to Skyla." Suddenly, Sombra's expression was grumpy once more. "I really don't see what she thinks is 'too challenging' about what I read her. Sorcerer foals at boarding school are fine for her age," he harrumphed.
Reading such scary stories to a baby is a tad more than 'challenging'. Why Cadance allows you to is not something I would like to ponder. "I feel we might not be spending our time very wisely, hmm? If the two of us have any desire to keep any resemblance of a proper schedule throughout the day, don't you think it would be best not to waste time on other talks?"
Though he raised a skeptical eyebrow, Sombra appeared to do as she wished. A few folders from those he clutched were floated over towards her, and she eyed the insignia of her school printed so clearly on it...
What is it that he finds so wrong with a respectable establishment?
She read nothing else on the surface before she flipped the file folder open, and found herself staring into familiar eyes.
Sombra noted her reaction with an odd gleam in his. "I thought you might recognize the image of this particular filly. Because the process secret to the guardians of these foals is never revealed, when they are accepted, it's 'like magic', for lack of a better phrase. There's hardly much of a reason to look into reports of parents claiming they thought their foals 'would never get in' at most institutions. With what I found, it does give an interesting angle to the results."
Celestia gawked at the photograph of the bright-eyed filly staring back at her. Official preservation enchantments kept it clean and un-aged. "Her name is Minuette and she's a clockmaker's daughter... why am I looking at one of her old transcripts? You have every possible file on her!"
Instead of a polite explanation, Celestia received a flat stare and a grumble. "She was a student from your school, was she not?"
The princess blinked. "Yes, yes. Minuette was part of the class of 998 and entered her studies on the elementary campus as most students do, but she works at the castle now. Surely you've seen her around? She had an internship at the school for a while. Such a lovely young mare, too. She always kept up with all her friends." Slowly, she smiled. "Her family still sends cards on the holidays. If my thoughts are clear, she was aiming to be a tinker of magical devices in her studies. She wanted to travel everywhere and meet everypony, you see! Fillies' dreams are often like that..."
"For a tinker under such a prestigious program, her work was amateur at best."
Sombra's words rendered Celestia utterly flabbergasted. "How... How is it that you can say such a thing about one of the castle's tinkers? They're hardly anypony off the street. That would be unacceptable."
Sombra scoffed. "I have had to call in more experienced and capable ponies of the same profession and with actual talent to fix numerous mistakes made by her, though I'm sure you don't pay attention to that. There's even been a few I've had to mend things myself, but I'm afraid that my ability to tinker has a rather limited extent in many areas. I do find this all somewhat surprising, seeing that your school has fixed standards in Arcane Evaluation Reports and requires proof that accepted students score within the gifted range in multiple tests of intelligence that yield surprising credibility but are never discussed with families. Both of which are absolutely non-negotiable standards of your school." He flashed a thin, condescending smile in Celestia's direction. "It is supposed to be the School of Gifted Unicorns, isn't it?"
She did give him any reaction, but unfortunately, Sombra had done his research. "All of that is true," she said with the utmost calm.
His eyes told her that he was going as far as to toy with her, pushing her in and out of where he wanted her in this conversation. "And would it also be true that the graduates of this school of yours have access to careers and other opportunities specially reserved for prodigies of the highest merit, talent, intellect, and ability? That this is 'the school for the gifted'? Or that these students were used as the pool you fished all your 'Faithful Students' from, with one Purple Eyesore as the only exception? Is it a mere rumor that graduates from your school practically have the opportunity to shape the future thrust in their hooves, and that they are presented with such chances reserved purely for those who have impressive and cultivated magical abilities and high intelligence upon graduation?"
Her magic plucked at the edge of Minuette's papers. "Y-yes? All this would be true, we hardly need much in the way of brochures and slogans when history has humbly bestowed us with such a fine reputation. Why must you persist with such questions? I truly am struggling to see how they are relevant here."
There was that narrowed-eyed look that he gave her that bordered on dangerous. "The answer, or at least part of it, is right in front of you. I want you to look at those records and tell me what the AERs — the unchanging, tragically and wholly accurate brand of any unicorn's magical ability — and intelligence tests said of little miss Minuette. What are her ranges?"
With careful calm, Celestia read the familiar results from the papers that Sombra passed to her. "Minuette scores only a few points short of a perfectly average normal score on her AER and an exact average on all intelligence tests she was given. Tests were done before she was set to perform her entrance exam at the customary application age of ten, and again when she reached the age of majority at sixteen. She was noted for being an incredibly extroverted and talkative filly who was disliked by none of the staff and other applicants."
Why does he insist on presenting me with her information? It wasn't as though he could publish any of it or make it public. Celestia, Luna, and Sombra could access any record on anypony, but they could not make any of the information public or share it outside of those able to view it. So... what could he want with it?
"Oh yes, and that last part is so terribly important, Celestia?" He chuckled for a reason she could not discern. "That aside, is it also true that examinations are set up to be impossible to succeed at based on reports gathered on the applicant's personality?"
Celestia said nothing.
Sombra ignored this and picked a few papers that he deemed important and read his findings. "According to all these results, applicants reported displaying shyer, anxious, more withdrawn, and any antisocial traits at all are given tests they cannot possibly complete, or aren't expected to. This would include things like dragon-quickening, adept light magic displays, interaction with complex magitech systems — or at least, what this era deems 'complex' — and interactions with magical crystals, among other things. This is in sharp contrast with ponies who are reported to be like Minuette, where unicorns who were more hyper, talkative, and seemingly less studious based on firsthoof examiner opinions were given tests more in line with submitted reports from guardians on their charge's abilities. These top-secret examinations which no little unicorn may legally speak of to others once they occurred also have documentation of other Minuette-types being tested in 'more friendly' atmospheres."
There was the stare that tried to fray her again. "So, Celestia, why is it that this unremarkable filly, with no documented learning disability, whose secret scores make it clear it was forbidden for her to be at your school, based upon your rules and education standards, allowed to complete her education at an establishment where she struggled in all her most important magical classes? Everything here says she really only succeeded in oral presentations. Why was such an advanced education wasted on her while more talented or neuroatypical peers were refused admission under false pretenses? Why is she now working a job meant for a pony with twice her skill at the very least... or any graduate of your school? Either you are a school for truly gifted unicorns, or an institution that places the mediocre in high places, going against the very core of your school and creating dangerous outcomes that come with giving the unprepared and unskilled specialist opportunities, while filtering out the real talent of each generation... among other things."
Luna does not bother me about my school, so why must he?
Celestia drew her posture up and fixed a cool stare on Sombra, one that was a sign that her sternness would inspire a sort of involuntary fear in ponies as her mane swayed with an almost calculating air. Only Sombra was not afraid. "That is enough," she said as evenly as she could, "you are merely picking at lines and webs that are not there, and I shall not sit here—"
"Actually," came Sombra's snide tone, "you shall." Crimson aura swept up another folder and thrust it below her muzzle. "This is your school, Celestia, and aren't you supposed to be involved in it? One little filly is hardly proof of anything, but thankfully, your school has such a rich example of samples. I've selected a few others that you and a certain demigod know quite well as a fairly typical model group for your school's demographics."
A pink-maned, white unicorn filly with braces stared up at Celestia from her first-year photograph with a file.
"This scrap of ponyflesh goes by the name of 'Glittertwinkle', or something of the sort. She has no magical background other than being Canterlot-born and going to your school, which adds something to it, in a very cosmetic and shallow way. Her family makes telescope equipment. That's all. Even the terrible little tinker had a more magical background than this one if that detail matters to you. However, little Sparkleshimmer here got some nicer marks on her schoolwork, even if she still had rollercoaster grades between passing and success throughout her years at your school."
"She was in Twilight's friend group," Celestia murmured, lost in the eyes of the photograph.
"Yes, yes, according to these papers, she was among her 'assigned friends' for the few classes Purple took at your school, even if friends don't work that way. While her intelligence tests all report her as being decent, she can't make the requirements, though she's quite normal for a filly her age, as far as I can tell from everything supplied here. Her AER reports her as being very average, if at least competent in what she was capable of. Reported as neither strongly introverted nor extroverted, she had not been subjected to biased testing. If it weren't for the fact that she still shouldn't have been at your school, I might be able to say that she was fairly tested. The only remarkable thing she managed to do was a few astronomy projects."
Twinkleshine's photo was exchanged for another familiar photo of a filly, who had her mane in a similar, popular style. Only, this filly had a blue mane and a bright yellow coat.
"Lemon Liver here is almost an interesting character. On examination, she was noted for her extroverted behavior. Her AER reports her as below average, so she's already missing half of the required qualifications to get into your school, if you would like it to follow its own criteria, that is. She was able to provide proof that she was above average in intelligence, even if it didn't extend very well into the classroom. She is the cause of exactly sixty-three percent of all accidents that occurred in the labs during the years she lived on the premises. All this is certainly astounding since she's reported to be a chef's daughter, though she's a walking kitchen and lab hazard."
Lemon Heart's photograph was replaced by another: a creamy unicorn who had just begun styling her mane with another filly's distinct bangs in an act of imitation of a certain all-too-obvious crush> It was impossible to miss the glasses perched crookedly on her muzzle as she managed to look away from the camera.
"This," Sombra began, "is Moon Pie. Her manestyle taste is terrible, I know, but she's very important. At age twelve, she applied to your school with proof that she was gifted and had AER scores in the required range. However, she also brought along a lovely diagnosis of early onset Avoidant Personality Disorder... and I have to say, I'm impressed that she managed to pass a rigged exam and get in. Water-walking is a fine party trick for older unicorns, but for a filly without instruction?"
He shrugged. "Some problems aside, she excelled in all her classes and was by all means what a model student of the school should have looked like... and then she dropped out shortly after Luna's return, even when she was set to graduate in 1002." Suddenly, Sombra's eyes turned to Celestia. "What year is it now?"
She could only blink. What kind of a question was that? "It would be the year 1007. Everypony knows this."
"And yet Moon Pie still hasn't graduated. Curious, isn't that? Shortly after the Summer Sun Celebration, she started to withdraw without a clear reason. Her grades start to get shaky, but when the time comes for the customary intervention and offerings of tutoring to see why she's failing and the required counseling, none happens. I found no record of any effort being made to do so when it is mandatory at your school to keep a record of practically everything. This wouldn't be as much of a problem if her location had been unknown. Instead, it was apparent the whole time and known to the staff at your school. Moon Pie was a local, and one who lived in the area with her family; she walked and teleported to all her classes. This means at a time when Moon Pie was so shockingly invisible, she couldn't have been more surrounded by ponies."
With deliberate slowness, Sombra withdrew Moondancer's image and papers from her. "Since I was genuinely curious as to what could have possibly happened to this mare between the Summer Sun Celebration and her dropping out, I did some personal research into the matter. I certainly didn't uncover anything doing your school any favors: as soon as this young mare began to withdraw, and display increasing signs of alienation and problems, any help that was required to be offered was discouraged. Discouraged."
"Such a shame," Celestia whispered with a slow, disapproving shake of her head, "that such promising talent to help others would go to waste."
Sombra had such an eerie stare fixed on her. "Only staff could have started withholding resources from Moon Pie. Whoever she socialized with simply followed their example, or ended up with other ideas as to what was going on. You're staff."
Celestia looked at the curtains again.
"Even if you didn't start the fire, Celestia, you undeniably smelled the smoke."
She said nothing.
"There wasn't a way you could not have known that this young mare was in trouble at your school, even if Luna had returned. I don't care one bit about this mare, but I do care about problems, and having this student be at risk of suicide was a problem."
"This is a very bold claim for you to dare to put forth," Celestia said quietly.
Sombra only looked at her sternly. "What do you think that I'm supposed to think as I pore over all the test results I can find on the rigorous psychological examination that you have Faithful Students go through? Do you think I'm not going to ask questions, to put together what is in front of me and just what that says about you, then and now? Celestia, if you gave me any kind of reason to see you as anything but what I have known and learned of you, then I'll have to learn something new, won't I? A reason will get you a reaction. But this is what you've built, and what you've made ponies think is normal when they know anything at all."
She had put each Faithful Student through such extensive testing beforehoof, it was true. So much had to be learned about a prospective Faithful Student, and there were key traits she needed to know about. Susceptibility had to be measured and considered, as it was one such trait. It mattered to her. Twilight Sparkle had scored above average in that area, it was Sunset Shimmer who had been the lowest-scoring in the area of susceptibility. She had no doubt Sombra had drawn some parallel among those things. Leave it to the unwelcome God of Knowledge to go about and be so nosy.
Of all the gods that could be, a God of Knowledge was needed the least.
And I wish that you would simply stop learning anything. It's rather troubling. "Curiosity is not such a thing to praise so quickly. Have you not heard that it killed the cat?"
Tilting his head to the side, Sombra looked at her with momentary confusion. "I'm not a cat."
From what Luna tells me, I have some doubts. Of course such an expression so rooted in pony culture would escape him. "I still would like it if you would do more than present me with papers—"
"Papers that contain everything you need to know about what I've told you, and more," Sombra finished.
She exhaled quietly when she realized he looked like he was going to speak again.
"All of this has to stop. The examinations are rigged. The acceptance process is... it's its own disgusting matter I can't begin to describe briefly. Your school prunes the personalities of the students it wants by withholding mandatory resources and allowing unfit, docile..." he trailed off into a chilling growl that felt so devoid of real emotion to Celestia, "...peasants of the soul," he nearly spat those words through gritted teeth, "to take the place where plenty of capable, truly intelligent and gifted young unicorns could be, ones who will work, excel, and shape futures that matter. This 'graduation' is a gift certificate to castle jobs and to plaster on a layer of false accomplishment, for the most part. If somepony really wanted a piece of paper that makes them feel special that badly, all they have to do is get some glitter glue and pretty stationery. That is certainly far cheaper than your school. Forget the curricula, forget your own breezie tale version of history, just have honest examinations and help. That is my first 'proposition'."
Oh.
Yes... that was true, this was only his first. Of three.
"Please," she said quietly, but with the cold of following snow, "I would love nothing more than for you to get on with it."
They both knew that she was lying.
...
Celestia ever so carefully rubbed her golden shoes together as she waited for Sombra to fetch the next round of papers. Her cheek muscles felt a bit strained, and her head was more than sore. Instead of letting the worm of worry over Sombra and his mad ramblings burrow into her head, she tried to imagine what her afternoon break in the garden would be like, and the sweet smell of flowers from the many royal gardens drifting past her muzzle. It all sounded so much better than a meeting with Sombra... and at least her horn didn't hurt this time.
Still, she thought about whether today was a tea day or a coffee day. That was the truly important thing on her mind. Of course, she did see Sombra having his papers and things all in neat stacks. She caught him saying something to her, about obtaining proper copies of things for her so she could look over any information he gathered, all delivered to her accordingly, whenever she possibly could or needed to. He asked if that would work out for her, and she did not bother to glance at his eyes to tell if he meant it or not. She nodded when she was supposed to, like a good princess.
...Did he really think that she would really think anything of what he said? That she would tear down something, expose, gut, and mutilate a good and thorough system that had been so well-crafted? There was just such an audacity that he had, to hunt for Fate's red thread, roll it up and use it as he pleased, to curl it around his hoof, and call it his as he tied it all the ways he wanted, something as red as his eyes.
He didn't know how good this was. No other pony or god hunted for these things and dug them up any more than they would try and chase their own shadow. Not Twilight, not Luna, not Raven, not Discord. There was normalcy in this that didn't sit with Sombra, and why would any normalcy? It was like hiding, was it not, just a bit more perfect? Celestia had a string she must conceal just a touch — all for the greater good, or she would not attempt it — so she put it in a sweater. Who would dare look for it there?
Necessity weighed heavily into this. If it were not for how much Celestia knew that as a princess — and as a princess first and foremost — there were such great things to put above herself, above things. She may doubt Harmony with what life has dealt her, and she may toss it out like seeds to those who she grew to believe it without feeling it herself, but there was always a greater good. It was worth upholding more than anything, worth fighting great evil for.
The faint push of telekinesis prodded Celestia's nearest wither, and something about the poke felt so foul to her, because like a spark flying from a fire, she knew exactly who had done it, and she stiffened. Her coat felt unclean.
"I called your name two times. Is that curtain so eye-catching that you're tempted to zone out? I do like to think that I'm a bit better with interior design than anypony gives me credit for."
Was that meant to be his type of joke? "I was only lost in thought." She didn't want to look at him, she didn't want to think about how yes, she had actually been touched by a demon's magic. On her flesh.
"If that is how you want to say that you were ignoring me, we can always do this another time."
Should she lie and say she was ignoring him to make her masked but strange slip into her thoughts seem more normal? It certainly felt like a good thing to do. "I was merely distracted by my own thoughts, though I must say my mind is most often occupied by thoughts of others, hmm? Silly me!"
There, a perfect, expected, and easily digestible bloated non-answer.
...And a pause before Sombra added: "Pushing through this could be for the best." He sounded so exasperated. Maybe this didn't matter to him.
"I'm merely a bit surprised at how secular your project is." Distract him. "Cadance's was to give advice via letter on romantic relationships to increase the happiness of ponies. I don't know if you know that she still does that."
He coughed slightly, and things felt right when she didn't look at him. Or see him. There was the small sound of a muted chuckle that died quickly. "I know, Celestia." Stop calling me that. "She helped me start my own relationship."
As ill-matched as you two are... and yes, sadly, she did and you do strike me as on the romantically impaired side. No wonder I have heard such jokes about you being a hopeless romantic. It is no different from the joking that Dissy is the paragon of order and such, and honestly, it is a bit funny.
"You know about Luna's dreamwalking," Celestia continued, "and Twilight's 'project' is her usage of her map that the Tree of Harmony uses to send her and the rest of the Bearers to aid in the affairs of mortals alongside her duties as a princess, though there can be limited scope to both, I'm afraid. Seeing you desire something so... obtainable through non-magical means is... new." The word sounded so forced, she had to admit.
"...I try and can be brief, then. Just pretend you can look me in the eye, won't you?"
Ah. So he was grumbling again. A ray of sunshine indeed.
Celestia sighed and relented.
...
Another file folder she only offered a glance at, stuffed with documents, and post-it notes, and mostly held closed via the use of a few smartly applied paperclips found its way into her gold aura. Sombra looked at her in a way that suggested some kind of reaction, but what he wanted her to do with his research, she wasn't quite sure. The title was carefully written on it in Sombra's distinctive hornwriting making it clear this pertained to his second 'issue' of alleged inadequacy of Equestrian facilities. She couldn't imagine he thought she was going to pore over this as though he were correct, so she slipped it under one of her wings.
How to get through this? She inwardly chided herself for any negative thinking, lathering optimism over her thoughts: she could quickly get through this still, she was in the home stretch. She gave the trash one more glance, thinking of the food lying in there, along with a crumpled issue of the day's edition of The Canterlot Chronicle.
She could do this.
"Alright, what was it that you thought was not adequate about the treatment of non-ponies? You do know that Equestria is an incredibly diverse land-"
"For ponies," Sombra interjected strongly. "There's no strong prejudice or bias towards most—" When he spoke that word and gave her the look a hammer would give glass, "—species, but Equestria is home to a variation of ponies, and more than any other kingdom. However, it still has a bias towards ponies when you examine cultural beliefs and how many objects and buildings are designed, and the facilities they offer. All are intended to provide purely for ponies. This isn't terribly unreasonable for the most part. Non-pony species make up only thirty-six percent of your population. However, most of them still live fairly separately — breezie grottoes, buffalo tribes, bears, minotaurs, and a low population of Eastern griffons live as Equestrians. Other creatures like zebra, dragons, deer, horses, qilin, and sea serpents don't live so far removed from ponies."
"Changelings," said Celestia as he cut in smoothly, "and diamond dogs inhabit some underground regions below many of these territories. Is there any reason you neglected to mention them?"
Sombra blinked in confusion. "...I've never met a diamond dog, and changelings are parasites that only interact with the fringes of pony society at best. Now, may I continue?"
"Yes," she said, even though she really didn't desire it. She also ignored his more liberal usage of 'parasite'. While changelings were parasites, many neutral hive queens on decent terms with Equestria would look twice at the newest member of Equestria's royal family for saying it with hints of a less favorable tone he used so honestly. It was just another species he wouldn't be able to negotiate with during his future duties, just as any omnivorous creature could not be in Sombra's presence because of his clear revulsion to meat-eating.
"Alicorns aren't ponies, but you've tried to convince this culture that they're not so different. I admit, I'm equine too, but being an Alicorn in Equestria and being like me in Equestria offer two very different perspectives, one of which is not available to the other." He frowned slightly and looked at her with a calm, enigmatic gaze Celestia couldn't help but feel a little unsettled. "If you ever wanted to hear what it's like as a non-pony living within Equestria's borders, I have plenty to relate—"
"I will be passing on that, you did mention that you would be keeping things as brief as you could, didn't you? No rambling, please."
"It was an offer," he grumbled, gaze falling to the floor momentarily.
She smiled calmly. "And no mumbling, please."
"No interrupting, please," he hissed, angry stare upon her once more, and the familiar caustic quality to his tone clear.
She lowered her gaze as a cue for him, and those detail-hungry eyes of his snapped it up instantly. But Celestia listened, minding the folder she tucked under her wing.
"Equestria simply doesn't have a culture that's used to blending different shapes so much as it's willing to mix different colors. The condition of griffons among pegasus ponies is the most common example that I encountered." He pointed a forehoof to the folder he lent her. "Everything you need is in there, though I suppose your apparent attempt at... whatever I'm supposed to see this display as... is just going to leave me to explain things, isn't it?"
"Do what you please," she muttered as quietly as her small exhale would allow, but the breath that betrayed it and Sombra's pricked ears caught her words regardless. Her heart sank.
"Fine," he snapped."Tartarus knows I have my moments of poor judgment, but this is so absolutely juvenile of you. Wrapping up things as quickly as you're likely imagining things is not what I had in mind..." Whatever he wanted to say devolved into an exasperated sigh, because oh yes, she was such a dreadful inconvenience to him. Sombra brought his forehoof down from where he had run it through his mane, somehow managing to give what looked like an annoyed little smirk at something on his mind. "I'll manage."
He deserves much more to be simply 'bothered' anyway...
The princess kept her facade intact, dutifully refusing to let laughter slip. Maybe her eyes showed it, but were they not usually merry? There was just something so undeniably funny about the stallion who was not once a child calling her immature. Or perhaps it was that he was a slaughterer of the innocent, and yet he clearly seemed to think pulling apart her dear utopia would get him anywhere.
"Actually," she began with the same superior tone that was sometimes required of a princess like her to use against the defiant and unruly little subject who took such enjoyment in disturbing peace and 'forgetting' there was such a great difference in status between them, and she was the ruler, not they. It was a cool tone reserved for those horribly entitled and arrogant sorts. "What you will be doing is finishing up your little presentation after this 'part two'. I will not be hearing the third part. What you will be hearing, however, is a little word on how you have behaved towards a certain Twilight Sparkle in a recent meeting."
Sombra's eyes widened, his jaw clenched, and then he opened his mouth and closed it quickly. "...You won't hear the third part? Every day since you have explained my duties to me, I have had you badgering me about what it is I'm going to do. It goes from something about public service that changes each time you throw the words at me, and then to when I'm going to have something done as I've worked for months to put together something thorough when you did nothing but pester me more than the little filly I foalsit ever could. All that time you must have thought I was off gallivanting around between the workloads I like to think I'm at least decent at, and you had to think I was just taking little vacations for every research trip. Every time I've alerted that dog of a secretary I had to miss out on this and that because I was writing to this professor and that scholar about travel..." He brought both his forehooves to his face and slumped against the back of his chair in frustration.
"Celestia, you've refused to look at any papers and notes I've gathered unless I so much as thrust them in your face. I'll deal with whatever petty complaints you have about Purple Eyesore... Sometimes I wish I couldn't believe you, and that any of this would be a surprise to me. I could try and speculate on why you do what you do and judge them to all be for at least remotely reasonable justifications, and whatever else it is you like to hurl around with all the grace of minotaurs wrestling in a china shop. Instead, I know it's because you loathe me."
Celestia levitated Sombra's folder back towards the pile he had drawn it all from. She urged herself to relax and that the distant creep of a headache could be kept at bay by filtering out Sombra. "You decided to present all of this to me in pajamas."
"Everything is on short notice, and for better or worse, you are somepony I live with. A degree of informality around one another is something I expected. Yet, I have yet to get a conversation out of you that isn't in some way about royal duties, anything accusation against me, or attempts at filler chat about the weather, and cookies. Everything you say to me is mostly about your work or my work... or somepony else's. Luna says you take your crown off sometimes. I've never seen you do it. And do forgive me if I have other things to do that would prevent me from accomplishing your every ridiculous whim, co-ruler."
Feathers brushed the arm of the chair she occupied and the princess drew one deep breath in and inwardly told herself: don't crack, don't crack, don't crack...
"Your snide tone nearly grates on my ears. Just do what I asked."
The second part was the hardest. She had learned many times, and terribly, that she could not control this stallion. He was not a piece on her chessboard so much as he was the other player. That confirmation was an ugly thought process, but one that cemented Sombra's place in a game, life, and world of black and white. This was the one who opposed her, not quite a king piece she could simply catch. His ugly eyes and foul knowings managed to pick up on all the little holes in herself she sought to conceal, though he must be the only one who really saw them at this point.
This awful truth — if such a phrase could not be redundant — meant that she knew Sombra would only do something if Sombra wished. In part, it was also because he was selfish. She would not yield anything if she could not ensure the greater good could safely be the justification above all means. Sombra was just selfish. The lives of everypony around him could be threatened — Skyla, Luna, Cadance, and most importantly, his subjects — and unless he himself were to come to harm, he would sacrifice them all.
But he was an unnatural and elusive thing wrapped up in the body of a pony as well. Such an eldritch creature was not to be trifled with, even if everypony around her thought him either aptly horrifying for his deeds, or was mistaken that he could be a friend... and husband.
So when Sombra nodded, she still felt an icy pit at the bottom of her stomach because she knew not what his machinations were.
"You were talking about griffons within my kingdom," she said quietly, like something she said so carefully could appease this gray entity.
His magic flicked a few strands of his bangs aside. "Yes. The Eastern griffons that live in Equestrian cities as a minority, or come from Griffonstone to get better schooling in pegasus classrooms and flight camps don't do as well as other students overall. Their grades are significantly lower than those of pony students, and not because they miss out on weather-magic aspects of the curriculum. Reports make it clear that they suffer from homesickness, feeling left out, and lower moods more than the ponies they live alongside do."
He twirled his braid a few times, slowly waiting for anything beyond an indication that she heard him, patience Celestia found almost startling lurking in his eyes.
Those quiet moments ticked by quickly, and the princess found it laughable that he would suggest the flight camps of fluffy clouds and soaring dreams for the winged youth of Equestria housed any kind of inequality did not sit well with her, just as the folder tucked under her wing itched a little. She was starting to suspect that the contents would not be as truthful as she would like.
"Continue," she said, speaking the word softly. "I must hear if there's any merit in this."
Sombra scowled slightly but continued with composure. Though, the princess had seen quite a few ponies simply quit at the first hint of her disapproval of hers, something she rarely showed her subjects. There were always the sorts that managed to weasel their way into her court, which, while no longer a purely open court anypony could appear at, still heard the voices of her ponies.
"There has been very little study of this that's cooperative or really recognized. Considering your position, I wouldn't blame you for being ignorant of something that happens on a far lower level within your nation."
Our nation, she wanted to say even though there was something sad about saying so.
"This place—" Could Equestria really be called such a thing so casually? "—might not be the Tartaus on Midgard that the tribes tried to make, and yet it hardly has a clean slate. What had to surprise me most was that many griffon foals—"
"Chicks. They're called chicks."
Sombra tilts his head. "...Chicks it is then. Griffon chicks in Equestrian flight camps often are poorly adjusted. There's little to nothing to really prepare them for the vast differences pony culture, especially Equestrian culture, is from their own. Malnutrition is a surprisingly common issue, not because it is terribly severe, but because if you bothered to look at what I collected at all, you would see. Young griffons in Equestria, despite being omnivores, are frequently unable or decide against obtaining anything other than what ponies around them eat. This leads to lower grades and other issues that shouldn't have occurred in the first place."
Celestia looked at him carefully. He certainly wasn't implying what she thought he was... or could he be? "You are not suggesting that the laws against carnivorous behavior among non-carnivorous species, meat consumption by equines, poaching, distribution of meat within Equestrian borders, and everything else that such ancient laws stand for?"
"Absolutely not!" Sombra looked offended by the suggestion, though it was he who was the fanged menace. "Those laws are more than reasonable. Many griffons report being ashamed of being an omnivore..." Sombra trailed off awkwardly, lapsing into silence. "Malnutrition, and just any of the deficiencies that are commonly reported by the griffons, most of whom technically cannot access proper food. They don't do well in the schools they are sent to strive in. I outlined a few ideas for reforms that could help with resources and ensure that-"
Celestia held up a forehoof and he looked at it, confused. She smiled. Now he looked even more confused. "This," Celestia said with a silk-smooth tone and the sunniest, thin smile she could make, "is where I will be stopping you."
Sombra only blinked, and she thought it nice, that at least this time she was able to cut him off. She prodded him in the chest with his own file folder and dimmed her horn promptly.
"It is good to see that you have such energy to bring about social change, but I feel that you must know it is being squandered with this..." She gestured to all his study with her foreleg and let it linger on him. "There are so many more things you could do. Gathering accurate research would be one thing."
And lo and behold, Sombra stared at her with disbelief in those fiery eyes and his mouth open just barely to voice a question that would not come.
"I think now would be a good time to discuss Twilight Sparkle, and what you said to her."
Sombra stared at her with that frustratingly unreadable stare again.
"I'm sure you'll recall the last meeting we all had together. It was only you, Luna, Twilight, and myself, after all. When discussing improvements to be made to the knowledge my ponies have."
There was a mocking gleam in Sombra's eyes at the word 'knowledge' and yet she was permitted by him to continue.
"I must admit, it is one of the rarer times I've seen you fold away your scribblings to pay attention to somepony, and to Twilight Sparkle no less! I know you don't recognize what a bright, deserving young mare she is, so I'm sure you must've known I would notice you focus on anything she had to say."
He rolled his eyes, and one of his forehooves, in a facetious gesture for her to go on. But there was still something dangerous in his looks and in his silence. His anger hadn't faded; that silence was grating on her a bit, even if she did not show it.
"And it was dear Twilight who had stated her excellent idea to have textbooks on the magic of friendship distributed to little fillies and colts at schools all across Equestria."
Sombra's eyes widened with recollection. "Yes, I recall that—"
"And you disgraced her idea."
"I did no such thing! What I did do was explain to her that what is called 'the magic of friendship' isn't something that can be broken down like that and written about. You could go so far as to say that it isn't real—"
"That's absurd, Sombra. Modern Equestrian history is against such a notion."
"That's the truth," he said with a stern edge to his words. "What is called 'friendship magic' isn't a happy-go-lucky ideal that can just be slapped onto anypony. Friendship isn't even the direct source of the magic you speak of — the light magic of the Elements of Harmony. Those are a different matter entirely, and the spirit that guards them is a tricky one."
Celestia was unfortunately familiar with that last part.
"Because the Elements of Harmony are selective, from what I have been able to learn about them, and are more complex than 'having a friendship can give you magic' it isn't anything that could be realistically studied. However, you could create information about the study and magic of the Elements with the undeniable correlating sociology to their function. That is an entirely doable project, but one that still would only be advanced enough that it would make sense to distribute to scholars of the niche. I can't say I've ever dealt with the Elements personally, but research is hardly anything I'd forgo on such important artifacts, even if there's more inaccurate information on them than factual."
Celestia sighed. "As a former Bearer myself, what I can say of the Elements is thus: they are as fickle as their spirit, are impossible for any everyday pony to bear, have their connection revoked once severed, depend on the Spark to work... and much of what you said. They can go thousands of years without choosing anypony... and that is frustrating. What you told Twilight was inexcusable."
Sombra did appear quite interested in what she had to say, but curiosity gave way to frustration. "I explained to her that her idea wasn't feasible even remotely in a way that was not much different than I did just now. I'm aware she's a magic student, but not every bit of information you've fed that creature is truthful... and she's clearly got much to learn as well. Has she been slacking in certain areas of study lately, it certainly seems so. Ancient artifacts understandably aren't everypony's cup of coffee, but as a former Bearer, and what sounds to be a much more learned one about the subject than I am, aside from the 'friendship power' inaccuracy. You really should be offering more advice on the matter."
"You didn't approve of her idea. With support, she could have had so much put forward by now."
There was the return of the narrowed eyes. "Just what are you asking of me? I often speak with bluntness equal to being hit by a train, and yet that day I did nothing that should be observed as remotely antagonistic towards your former student."
"You disagreed with her."
"And Luna did too! I explained to her what was unrealistic and impossible with her proposition, and even suggested alternatives. Luna was the one who went farther than that."
Luna had been the one to appear insulted by what Twilight wanted, something that wounded Celestia, who had to watch her daughter lecture the demigod about the arcane.
If Cadance had been there, Celestia knew that with enough gentle pressure on her part and her sisterly connection with her beloved former student, Twilight would have gotten support, surely. Without Sombra, the presence of Cadance would have created three in favor of her great idea, and Luna as the sole one against it. With opposition that easy to brush aside, it would take nothing to have Twilight's plan put into action if she kept trying. Luna may be resistant to pressure, and as stubborn as her awful husband, but something could've been done.
Instead, royal meetings were not going quite in Celestia's favor. Luna had support. Everything was fairly fractured in many kinds of decisions. Twilight had become unpopular behind closed doors, and that was a treatment that the young mare was not familiar with. Her nation adored her... but she and Luna could agree on nothing.
"Luna has her own issues," Celestia said simply. "It's a shame that she can't see eye to eye with a mare so like herself."
"Those two are as alike as a plague is to its cure."
It wasn't supposed to be that way! She cried at your wedding.
The princess took a deep breath. "If you are going to help Equestria, you should put your effort where it matters. I'm afraid your suggestions are best described as dubious, and while I'm absolutely certain your effort into them, it was unfocused, poorly researched, and without clear thought. Instead, a proper plan to support Equestria's education would be with Twilight. Please consider supporting her efforts to better the lives of our subjects, and how positive they are! It is a much more worthy goal than the more... negative... plans you have suggested. Nopony wants those, but everypony would love to see what information has been gathered by a celebrated hero after years!"
His plans seem purely self-serving as well...
If Sombra had been angry before, he looked like he was absolutely seething now, and as a contained, focused inferno of ambition before her. The purest disgust was upon his face, and shock was evident as well.
"Sometimes I really can't believe you." While he sounded resentful and fed up, he was not careless with how he spoke to her. She had expected some kind of an outburst, and instead, she had gotten a strange... sharpness to Sombra, something that the princess couldn't say she saw in many ponies throughout her life.
"And why is that?"
"I don't think I should have to explain why the education of your subjects is important. What I will say is that I feel that you're content with letting these things happen in an effort to preserve something that doesn't exist. What I did think was that such issues would grab your interest just as much as they grabbed mine."
"Why would they? What is it that you could possibly want with this matter that isn't something purely for your benefit?"
Sombra suddenly looked at her quite coolly, his anger forged into judgment. "You heard what Luna and I discussed at Hearth's Warming, didn't you?" He looked at her like he already knew the answer. "I'm sure you can understand why I would be interested in schools from a perspective not relating to me being the God of Knowledge."
Once she was over the initial surprise of the monster ever bringing up that dreaded day, the answer seemed to leap out at her, and her eyes widened. "You discussed... having a foal..." she managed to whisper, wishing the recollection wasn't real.
"She..." Celestia couldn't look at Sombra, "Luna's not... expecting... is she...?" She felt so cold prying those words out but could almost feel the disgust she saw in Sombra's eyes, glimpsed from the corner of her own, at her hesitance.
"She isn't," he said coldly, but his sudden frostiness slipped away when he spoke again. "Her and I... we have a lot of personal things to sort out before I'm read—" She looked at him briefly, ears pricked hopefully to catch any news of ill feelings her daughter might have for her husband, only to see Sombra's eyes widen just so and his ears flick lower momentarily as he retracted something he said, "Before we're ready to really begin expanding our family."
Is he impotent...? He certainly speaks as though there's some difficulty he's encountering. I truly can't imagine what it's like to have to deal with that along with his overall mental deficiencies. Luna, what have you gotten yourself into?
Sombra quickly looked down, taking a great interest in something he saw there, and sighed tiredly. "It's... quite the ordeal, to say the least. I don't want to bring a foal into a problem I've done nothing to correct, and I have nearly all the power to do so. The old mantra of knowledge being power is thrown around often..."
Yes, it is, and by those without proper compassion, for the most part. It's such a cold phrase, especially from a stallion who thinks he can call the world a 'problem'.
"...and I have to say, it is one of the few that is true if you disregard that knowledge is ultimately better than power."
As if you have any right to speak on the matter.
"So, what I really want is for any..." he swallowed noticeably, "...any foal of mine to be able to learn. As a mother, I'm sure you have the same wish for your daughter," he said with an oddly nonchalant shrug, eyeing her again. "And I can't imagine that I'm the only one who worries about the numerous issues in the society you have built, regardless of what partial information those in question would have. Maybe Moon Pie's family wonders if her former school could have done more to help her, no matter the optimism that they carelessly splashed on everything that leads them to believe anything might have been done at all... and if they don't? Celestia, do you really think there isn't one lone, isolated creature who holds these thoughts inside them, even if they are never acted upon?"
His aloofness had largely reconstructed itself, as had a nagging at the back of Celestia's mind.
Back to normalcy, it said. Back to normalcy...
"I think your efforts remain misplaced."
His scowl was aimed at her again, the focused anger in his eyes like arrows blaming her for something, or that was what she made of it. "You wanting me to support Purple Eyesore goes against everything that my efforts for Equestria are supposed to be, and you've made that clear yourself. Putting all my work into a particular idea beyond all repair for something I shouldn't and will not have anything to do with is no different than having me write open love letters to a world I hate. Purple can obtain criticism from me if she wishes to deal with me at all, and that's it."
Selfish, Celestia's thoughts probed into her attention with a sharp hiss, every whisper a dart to her. So selfish, so selfish... can't you do anything about this? So selfish...
"May your next suggestion be less self-absorbed and hinged on falsehoods. If you are to help Equestria, think of Equestrian values, and aid this land as an Equestrian would, because you will need to start presenting such in your propositions to a true ruler of Equestria if you hope to ever move up. Even as you sit before me now, you can't be much more than an enemy of mine after all... this." She waved a forehoof about clumsily with frustration, not even entirely certain what she wanted 'this' to constitute.
These are the words that she would speak harshly to the few who saw the princess and managed to pull such a tone out of her. She would heap her frustration on them as she wished and split their will to go on speaking as an ax cleaved flesh and split past bone with grisly, heavy swings. Who could imagine their eldest and lightest princess dissatisfied? Who could ever anticipate her ever being annoyed?
None of them could. She was the mare of gentle light and smiles, who protected all from evil and scum, eradicating the immoral, and humble in disposition. To see a pony who displeased her was a little different from seeing a criminal, in a way. Those that were scorned by her and scolded, that made her dare reach into herself to hurl out of what vile feelings clogged her so she could watch them stick on such repulsive ponies and mark them as unapproved of, was noted by those in her great herd of subjects. They looked upon the scorned, they stepped away from them and against them, leaving such a pony to face silent, passive ostracism.
In all the years that Celestia brought out such ugly pieces to communicate disdain at those who were selfish, attempting to weasel their way to status, greedy, determined to waste her time, and whatever else required a touch of venom in how they were treated, she had never seen the face of any of those ponies again. She heard their names die in quiet shrouds of whispers, and she knew they were pointed at and used as examples of poor behavior and were never seen again. Still, she had not heard of any that made it to great success and ever lived out their dreams. When she thought of them, she thought of how their flickering presence and how abruptly the light in their eyes was snuffed when her passivity crumbled.
Sombra was not one to have such a response. His jaw clenched and his magic wrung his wedding ring about and he glowered at her from under his mane, gears of thought whirling even more than before.
"Leave, then," he said with a clear edge to his tone, and one that few would dare to cross. "We're certainly done for the day, so take your leave... unless my presence is somehow required for something else." He raised one eyebrow skeptically, eyes still looking like he'd rather tear her apart with his gaze alone. "I'm hardly in the mood to deal with you right now."
His ears were pinned back in a clear warning of his mood, and he was holding back a strange curl to his lip that Celestia had seen enough of to recognize as belonging to an angry predator.
But could she really back off now?
Just now?
And should she?
More importantly, could she?
She was still the princess, first and foremost, and she would not forsake her duties as though she were not obligated to dedicate her entire self to them. One such duty was to be the one to pull the rug out from the malicious and fallacious like Sombra just as much as she was meant to shield the peaceful and soothe them with smiles and words of praise, kindness, and everything that opposed the thought of those who were so foul and low.
As that shield, she had long learned it was not up to her only to shadow the eyes of her subject from that which could taint them and was certainly unlawful, but to bash those that were on the despicable side of the eternal binary of good and evil. She was not simply to bludgeon such creatures violently and condemn them and banish them, as she had in the days when she bore the Elements, but to bar them from any contact with those they deserved no association with — the normal, good creatures that lived pleasant lives — and ensure that such beings, pony or otherwise, were edged into isolation and set towards the path that urged them toward their destined downfall. Of course, it was not with a bang or violence that this should be done — not ever — but with a whimper, a word, and a barrier.
The refusal was passive, but powerful, and rarely brought any unneeded harm. It was a safe thing, just as much as Sombra was dangerous... and she was not going to let such danger slither about so smugly, a spirit without even the hint of a crack. It would be downright irresponsible of her to not do her part as the princess and offer up words to play her part. He needed a lesson thrust into his face, and the princess knew just what would suffice.
Despite how he was dressed, Sombra was no less intimidating. A cragodile was no less dangerous if somepony placed a flower upon its head, and a demon was the same. Parts of his mane were already starting to shift to shadow, and traces of purple smoke lingered in his eyes. Combined with his pinned-down ears and expression of restrained fury and so many other emotions she could not manage to read, she knew he was holding back vitriol as he bristled with the temper he was holding back.
In contrast, the princess held a calm that bordered on blithe at its very most, even if no smile was present. She rose with her mandatory, and let the momentary tension between them only extend briefly so that her legs could feel at ease. Did anypony actually find her height enviable? She and Luna both rose above anything ponies could ever hope to achieve, but only one of them was a giantess in comparison. If she were not so out of shape — at least by Alicorn standards — then she knew her leg cramps would be much less frequent.
Between them, silence rotted.
The last few threads of her small plan quietly fell into their places. Now that she had risen, Sombra's glower only left her to drag towards his study's exit: a clear sign demanding her leave.
However, he was to get no last word in any of this. With a quick spark, a thin layer of gold aura sparkled to life on the princess' horn.
Sombra sensed this, and the distrust in his eyes was brighter. Truly, the prince would hardly ever progress unless he trusted her, for it was she who should not trust him. Must his views always be so fallacious? He had opened his mouth to say something against her, or perhaps scream at her. It was no secret around the castle that he had a terrible temper. The poor maids had certainly been treated to some of his verbal abuse.
Sombra. Abuse.
For once, the princess managed to wipe the emotion those words brought to mind, and all the horrible 'what-ifs' that sprung from those two words away for later.
Later. That particular word left its sick resonance of terrible thoughts to come before fading away.
The trash can erupted its contents across the creature's study as she fished out what she was looking for.
Sombra's eyes now turned to look at the trash scattered all over his study with something like surprise. "What in Tartarus' name did you do that for? Just leave!"
He nearly seemed hurt that now garbage was scattered across his work here and there, eyes roaming in a currently futile attempt to note all that he would have to clean up. Old foodstuff dripped here and there. His ears drooped while his muzzle bore the start of a mess between a frown, shock, and a snarl.
His tone carried a growl, but before he could do or say anything else, the princess thrust the front page of the The Canterlot Chronicle right into his face, aiming towards his left as she clutched it firmly in her aura. It too was still covered with garbage, and though it was in plain sight, Sombra still jumped backward considerably, stumbling in a rare example of clumsiness from him.
"Do you see what this is?" she hissed.
Though the paper was in his face, Celestia was able to see him swallow. Why were his eyes so wide?
He only nodded in a sloppy gesture of acknowledgment.
"This is generosity," she said carefully, displeasure ringing in her voice. "This is kindness. This is loving your fellow pony and you buried it in the trash like it was nothing. I know kindness, and I know mercy. You certainly do not. If you approved of Twilight Sparkle's plan, you would have a chance. If you paint Equestria and its fine system as terrible? Never."
Sombra fell backward, slumped haphazardly in his chair again. There was something intense in his expression she did not know. Everything had bled together to her, leaving the tricky demon who was barely understandable as it was a mess of emotion before her with his forehooves clutching at the hoofrest of his chair far too tightly and desperately, red eyes glued to the headline. From his eyes were the budding wisps of anxious purple smoke that vanished just as quickly and awkwardly as they had arrived.
She imagined them like bubbles. Pop, pop, pop!
"Never," she repeated. "It is never Equestria that is wrong, but there can be many monsters. For every good subject in my good country, I sleep and rise knowing that there are evil ones and that my ponies will be hurt. We may not live in the Tartarus on Midgard that was the despair of the Tribesponies, know that." You beast. "And yet, unjust and evil things still happen in Equestria, and always will, if never on the horrible scale that it was, there will be thieves, there will be rapists, and there will be those who take lives. You hardly seem to grasp this, so let me tell you now: the greatest problem that I face is the greatest problem there is: it is the problem of evil existing, how horribly inevitable it is, and that it must be combated."
And you are part of that problem. Those words ran in her mind like fire, urging her onward. Was this not her purpose? Was she not enforcing the greatest good? Was he not trembling before her, or was it the intoxication that each firmly spoken word made her think so?
Was this not perfect?
"My ponies live in a blissfully happy world, each of them wholly good and to be revered as you are feared. Every day, I have always tried to keep them safe as a precious heirloom is guarded and wisely locked away. All of this is a noble cause, and I would encourage anypony to rise to do the same and strive for such selflessness, not that you would understand why it is ideal. We have a wonderful system in Equestria to take care of the good around us. When tragedy happens — and any innocent life lost is the greatest tragedy — no matter what kind, many of my subjects are almost ignorant of it. They do not know murder, they do not know rape, they hardly know violence, and they do not know depression and melancholy of the spirit or how it can impact others, beyond it being wrong, because they live so happily and safely."
She paused for a quick swallow and shook the paper once, noticing the beat start slightly when she did, his eyes glued to the headline.
Good.
"My heart aches for those who suffer under my sun, even if I cannot understand all their plight. Their tragedy isolates them from their peers, and they no longer fit into the system and cannot lead their lives. Instead, they are shattered, hurt, and confused. You do not know what it is like to suffer." Though, you claim to love somepony who has suffered much and remains so alone...
"In my kingdom, where all is well and good, there are always places meant to help those who have suffered where the bulk of society cannot aid them because there are few who could understand these losses. There are therapists, clinics, and so many wonderful establishments that you cannot even begin to dream of to help soak the wounds of evil away and offer as much understanding as possible. You say Equestira is in some way undesirable when it is not, and we have a low crime rate, much lower than many other lands can claim."
Taking one last deep breath, she pulled the article away just enough to get a larger glimpse of where the beast was frozen and tongue-tied, searching the front page with wide eyes still. Benevolence of any kind must be so foreign to him that he could only muster this kind of reaction.
"Today, a shelter in Manehatten that offers all its aid and compassion towards helping those who have suffered any kind of sexual abuse and assault recover and heal received the startling donation of two-hundred thousand and fifty bits — a massive fortune, as you would know, and the biggest donation any such establishment in Equestria has ever gotten, second only to some of the donations Luna and I make to other locations. And instead of having whatever celebrity or massively wealthy patron give their name, in an extreme gesture of humility, this donation was given anonymously and without a trace! This is kindness! This is empathy, and you would do well to learn anything from it!"
Celestia looked down upon the demon, who had an oddly anxious air about him. Though that was to be expected. Her mane was curled with small hints of smoke she had carelessly allowed to slip, a faint leak of magic that was not as fearsome as mortals found it to be, and she had nearly slipped into the Royal Voice of Alicorns, something he might not have much exposure to with the solitude he preferred.
Within the gleam of the emeralds on his circlet, she was able to see the faint impression of how her eyes smoldered with a brief intensity she rarely had for anything.
To have such a maleficent being sitting in her shadow was such an enormous relief. No, he wouldn't look at her, and maybe that was peculiar for him, but here she was. This was a kind of progress, after all the trouble she had with having to have him as a prince.
"It is not by what you think constitutes as the effort that will bring success."
And this, jabbed a whisper, is coming from you, the serpent of a mare who climbed the stairway to the crown by slithering through the Unicorn's Court bearing venom as well as smile. Hypocrite.
She allowed her rush to wash the ugly critique away.
"No crown of Equestria, not my crown, nor Luna's tiara, or your circlet shall ever be made to represent anything less than Harmony and its ways. And do you know something?" She fixed her gaze on him as directly as she dared.
Sombra finally had shaken most of whatever spell had overcome him, but he was breathing quite raggedly as the look in his eyes cleared. His mouth opened slightly again, but hardly enough for him to do much more than exhale, but it was clear he aimed to move shortly.
Voice as swift as a whip's lash, swift as she desired, and with more of a deadly calm than she had used to speak with him in the past few moments, she put in her final word. "With your ways, you will not soar to the heights you want. Why, with all your behaviors it would almost be fit to make a wager of sorts, but I am no gambling mare. Instead, I would beg you to think of our interactions much like chess. I know we utterly oppose one another, but in the end, one of us will not get what we want. I have so many ponies around me, and yet you have none. So, I ask you this: which of us will be standing here in three hundred years' time?"
A hoof connected with her chest in a rough shove with a strength she should've expected from this stallion, whether he was armor-clad or not.
She made something that sounded like a gasp or a yelp to her ears, but even after the surprise faded could not decide. A brief bit of dizziness had overtaken her, because his movements had caused her to step backward, and her composure to fall over her like a sheet thrown over her head.
His touch was repulsive and sent a wave of alarm through her, and she felt her wings unfold slightly. The thought to flee whipped through the rest of her thoughts like a gale's wind, but she fought them until she felt they were properly suppressed.
But Sombra stood before her again. His breathing had an odd unsteadiness, and he was clearly gritting his teeth. There was a stormy look in his eyes that kept a feeling of fear in her, even if she was not what he looked at. The purple smoke ebbing from the corners of his eyes was considerably more steady.
Reddish aura mingled with that of dark magic clutched the crumpled newspaper, and she could see sparks of dark fire dancing there, singeing the words.
His tail waved with faint traces of shadow, and a low growl echoed through his study. It was not a thunderous sound, but a chilling one.
There was still something newer about Sombra that Celestia found disturbing, but could not properly place beyond the quick, frantic guess that such effects were part of his divinity: the crimson hue of his aura a touch more intense, the start of a quick flash of the color in his iris, and a fierce presence in the room seizing her senses so there was such an intangible aura of foreboding that touched her she felt her wings drop suddenly and heard herself inhale sharply.
It was dread.
"Get out," the monster said with a growl in his words, and it was the same growl that could still tease fear into her.
This time, she listened, and her thoughts fell to nothing but the single urge to leave until she gripped the door of the monster's lair in her magic, knowing he stood where she had left him, surrounded by his machines, his books, and the garbage that had been strewn about.
She had said what she needed to, and when her eyes found a hall clock outside, she saw she had not really wasted any time or thrown off her schedule. Good. She had managed to push back his efforts with her refusal to, which was the one other thing that she could congratulate herself on.
She had just about slammed the door with her magic before she heard the sound of something being thrown violently, and the distinct noise of something breaking. Barely escaping through the last crack of the door, before the noise-canceling barriers worked their literal magic again was the sound of a scream.
It was a distraught, guttural, angry sound. Frustration and pain were evident in the feral cry that sent a stab of fear through Celestia again.
Even after the door was slammed, it was the sound of the scream that lasted.
The hallway felt colder every time the sound of that monster's bizarre cry of torment and savagery rang in her ears. Her own breaths came with quick shapes until she began to force a normal, drastically less emotional expression to overcome her features.
All the little whispers of her mind, her doubts, her worries, her mumbling crashed into her mind as she lingered, frozen for just a moment longer.
That had not been the noise of any natural creature, not to Celestia's ears. There was no pony, Alicorn, griffon, changeling, seapony... any kind of...
Her throat felt tight.
She had places to be. The gears of normalcy did not run with idle cogs. One step after another took her father away from that door, but the sound still stuck with her. Even that cursed, eldritch feeling that Sombra's divinity — or the glimpse of it — brought was cut away as soon as she had closed the door.
The princess thought of redemption. It was not something that was passed out freely, nor was forgiveness. Never in Equestria had such a thing be true. There were always punishments for deeds and condemnations, never was there anywhere where mercy existed without the prospect of punishment.
Luna liked to say — to hear and to anypony, and she imagined that Sombra would have heard his wife's adage as well — that forgiveness did not mean anything if the prospect of punishment was not equally possible, but those words came from the mouth of a mare who believed in more than ivory and ebony and spoke fiercely of justice over kindness.
Of good and evil, only one side would ever come out forgiven. Luna was a good mare, and Celestia pitied her in all ways, and for all the troubles she had known. She had married a monster and stood alone in the world of her own accord. Her future held no love, and she was not properly assimilated to duty in the ways that Celestia was; Luna thought she could wear a crown instead of letting the crown wear her, as Celestia thought of it. She was an intense being... and sometimes...
Celestia couldn't stop herself from thinking of fangs and a nightmarish helm...
Sometimes still, she is absolutely frightening... and I will never, ever tell her such.
Spirit was a dangerous thing, and impurity to be tempered out of anypony with time. Luna's only grew with the ages.
As more halls of the castle passed Celestia's view, she thought of Discord. Like Luna, he had done things landing him in places out of the light, but Celestia knew him better. For the appearance ponies always thought strange, Celestia found a snaggle-toothed smile and the fun and levity she never had anywhere else but so craved above all else, when she allowed it. He was not a cruel soul, but he had been misguided.
Never had they been monstrous. Both had her welcome, her friendship, and her forgiveness in spades. Dissy had her love as Luna had her kinship. It was a simple, blissful thing.
Had anypony really stopped to think about things, to pry into the dark corners of history all but lost, they would know there was evil other than the likes of Tirek, windigos, Sombra, and the more fantastical entities of the world... something she begrudgingly grouped the demon into; she wasn't that picky with analysis.
The princess had encountered all this evil. As soon as the crown was first on her head, it was not a choice to fight evil and eradicate it from the lives of those who did not deserve his cruelty. With those first years, before she stood without Luna any longer, she had fought with all the fire of the sun and the mob cries of her subjects against such forces.
But after Luna, the quiet affairs began. There were monsters shaped like ponies. They violated and brought violence. They killed and reaped woe and fear. Not a single one deserved life, that much was clear and absolute. Even Luna had always agreed with her on that, though they reached the same destination through different paths. She never cast her agreement with Celestia's wisdom on all being in absolutes, sadly.
...That knowledge never eased anything, though. Not in one thousand years. It did not mean that the princess never had to chase these ponies, to see their work, to mourn their dead, to console the victims that she could save, and when they were caught... she was the one who had to delve into their existence. She was the world's filter, and never had she been cleaned. For all the work the local guard did, the obsessions and lusts of these monsters and what must be done to catch them fell upon her the hardest. It was she who had to pull away the festering layers of her psyche about them, to be exposed and immersed in their foulness in something terrifyingly intimate that left her forever feeling tainted.
She would always be the last to see them alive, after all.
She would have to hear everything.
Taking a life was never an absolvable offense. Such violence spelled out the evil within the soul. Evil was a brand, and after a while, it didn't matter what exactly she said about the brand, so long as evil was evil.
Forgiveness was for the injured, the accused, the misguided, the misunderstood, and all those who need be under her sun when their lives should have been filled with innocence and gaiety rather than the tangles of emotions, traumas, and so much more that Celestia and her mask alike could never untangle, understand, or become personal with.
So she beat on the monsters instead. They tired her in all the worst ways, leaving her more empty and alone than she usually felt.
It wasn't like they didn't deserve it.
Everything fell down to one real truth in Equestria, the shadow of the kindness and nation of peace she slaved to create. It was a rule about monsters, something the demon assuredly was.
No monsters would be forgiven.