//------------------------------// // Chapter 50: It Begins // Story: The Life of Penumbra Heartbreak // by Unwhole Hole //------------------------------// The great shield of the Crystal Empire shimmered in the distance. From afar, it resembled a dome of pale energy, patterned not unlike light cast through water- -though the pulses of the light were too fast, and the opacity was too great for it to seem beautiful. Instead, it only appeared vaguely sinister, perpetually giving the impression that it had been existent for far too long. Yet it lived on. Far beyond the shield lay endless wastes. Ice and snow stretched out in every direction for untold distances until they reached rocky, lifeless mountains. Those could only scarcely be seen through the snow, their sterile peeks perpetually standing sentinel over a realm where no pony was meant to live. The sky was gray, and though it was snowing strange lightning streaked from cloud to cloud. A storm was brewing. Celestia shivered and pulled the collar of her thick robes up to her neck. As an alicorn, she was not truly subject to injury from cold, but she disliked it regardless. She found herself jealous of her older sister. Nightmare Moon stood at her side, clad only in gleaming mithril armor, her astral mane slowly flowing in the breeze. She did not even shiver. What Celestia could not have known was how deeply Nightmare Moon hated the cold; she had simply grown used to it, as she brought a light that would never warm. The army marched behind them, dressed in strange clothing and thick fabric. They were cold too, but Celestia saw no sign of complaint from them. They were the ponies that served her sister: those that bore the wings of bats, among others, all led by elite knights clad in silver armor. Among those, in turn, stood one clad in white. He approached Nightmare Moon, and somewhere deep inside her Celestia felt an entirely different sort of jealousy. “You do not need to be here, sister,” said Nightmare Moon, staring out at the Crystal Empire. “I mean you no insult, but you simply were not made for this.” “For what?” “For war.” Celestia frowned, looking out at the distance beside her sister. “Then all the more reason for me to be here. If it truly is that horrible, I cannot allow you to face it all alone.” A thin smile crossed Nightmare Moon’s face. “Because together, we will overcome all.” She turned to her knight. “Begin preparations.” “Yes, my queen,” he said, bowing and obeying her orders without hesitation or questioning. “There is not much you can do,” said Nightmare Moon, once again addressing her sister. “My forces will attack at midnight, when the night is at its darkest.” “Sombra’s soldiers use enchanted masks. They can see in the dark too.” “But his commanders cannot, and do not. The ones in masks are but slaves, unable to respond to attack in any timely way. We will attack swiftly and overwhelm them.” “Then I will support from the rear and sent reinforcements as needed.” Nightmare Moon raised an eyebrow. “And how do you intend to do that?” Celestia raised her horn and it glowed with solar light. Suddenly, across the endless permafrost fields, magical spells erupted- -and resolved into portals. Hot breezes poured through, and ponies began to march from the rifts. Others appeared suddenly, flashing into the distance as Celesta teleported them directly to the field. They were clad in gold armor, and among them were earth-pony warriors standings beside powerful unicorn mages, some of which were purest white. In the sky, formations of armored Pegasi arrived through the portals, and behind them drifted in an armada of zeppelins and balloons of war. Celestia smiled. “You are not the only one with an army.” “They are here,” whispered Eternity, giggling slightly. “Look at them all...so shiny...I hate them so much. With their legs...and eyes...and ink. I want to make their ink come out...I want it out so baaaaaad!” The steward did not respond, because there was no need to. Eternity saw all that was- -and, perhaps more terribly, all that was and all would be, though only sideways through the prism of madness. For her, the battle was already decided. The future had already happened. Yet the steward did not dare ask her. She had once been a mage, and knew of the cost that even a single sentence of foreknowledge could bear. So she ascended the stairs in silence to take her place. In a previous life, she had been a princess; that is, a daughter of a unicorn king. In those days she had never dreamed of what she would become. She was the steward, and, for a day at least, the field marshal of the Crystal Empire. Even without knowing the outcome, she would do everything in her power to punish the heretical princesses for daring to challenge the glorious and eternal king. The center of the room held a broad, circular platform made of tiles of opaque, matte crystal. In the center, a machine already held her palantir, interfacing it by wires and cables to the system that would make her command interface. Around the base of her platform sat her subordinates, those tasked with executing her will. Two were unicorn thralls of a unique type, their minds broken and fused directly to the processing systems. One was a crystal pony who sat in a perfectly pressed uniform, ready to serve. It was only the final member that gave the steward pause, because she was not precisely sure what he was. She understood that Emeth had created him, and that this thing was a machine- -but it was not like any golem she recognized. It was too advanced and, worse, spoke with a voice that was not Emeth’s. It called itself Asahel. Beyond the control consoles of her underlings were windows, formed of transparent crystal. Nothing was beyond them save for a rage of swirling clouds and occasional silent flashes of deep-red lightning. The steward stood for a moment, watching the gray and darkness in silence. Then she spoke. “Open a channel,” she ordered. “Connect me to the propaganda dismemberment loudspeakers.” The uniformed crystal pony flipped through several switches. “Channel is open, mistress.” The steward stood tall, staring out the window and tapped her earpiece, making sure it was seated. The dull buzz confirmed that the crystal radio inside was fully operational. She was connected. “Attention all citizens,” she said, speaking the whole of the kingdom at once. “I am your field marshal, known also as the steward of this kingdom. I have no name. Beyond our borders, the forces of foul heretics in service to their false-gods are gathering. The war will begin shortly. Prepare yourselves. But know this: “We are not the aggressor in this conflict. The Empire seeks only peace, prosperity, justice and freedom. These are the ideals of our king. The unspeakable tyrants Celestia and Nightmare Moon have come to take what is ours. They will take our lands for themselves, and cast each and every one of us to poverty. They will laugh as you are set adrift, given lives with no purpose, with no protection from pain, hunger, or disease. They will watch as you atrophy without benevolence guidance and cast you out into the cold as they horde the crystals that rightfully belong to us! “They are driven by hatred, jealousy, and greed- -but know that we are kind. Their soldiers have simply been deceived, convinced that we are the enemy instead of the monstrous alicorns they worship. So I implore you all: grant the Equestrian soldiers mercy. Please. Bring them a swift and terrible defeat. Bring them agony, and leave them broken and ruined in the shadows of those they serve- -and know that in their screams, they are thanking you. Thanking you for teaching them that the way of Sombra is TRUTH. “We are the righteous. Our cause is just and pure. You stand with Sombra’s divine vision, and you do not stand alone. For all that you hold dear, defend our kingdom- -and our eternal king. That is all.” She motioned for the transmission to be cut. It was. “A rousing speech,” said Asahel. He sounded like a machine- -and as though he was about to laugh. The steward shivered. Every instinct in her pony body made this uncanny thing seem so deeply unnatural. “I find the paradoxes endlessly amusing. Slavery is freedom, I suppose?” “Freedom cannot exist without slavery. Only a slave is truly free.” The golem shrugged. “You would know, I suppose. You’re so silly.”