//------------------------------//
// Chapter 16: Ruins 
// Story: Knights of Ice and Crystal 
// by Leila Drake 
//------------------------------//

Darren slowly unlocked the door to room 103 and pushed it open without a sound. That afternoon had been utterly exhausting. Not physically, obviously, but still. 

The time with the Princess had been a long overdue walk down memory lane. And it was the ugliest of roads, the kind with stones, puddles of mud and ambushes along the way. There was no way to go there and return without feeling the need to take a shower. As Darren sat down on the only chair in the tiny room, he groaned and rubbed his eyes. He needed to unwind, do something to keep his thoughts from circling.

The mirror. It had to be around somewhere. Darren got up and pulled the drawers of the nightstand open. There it was. He used his sleeve to rub the glass surface clean and made himself comfortable on the chair once again, saying, "Jonathan Baker."

It took a while until the mirror surface glowed and rippled. Then, Jonathan's face became visible. In the background, Darren could make out a shelf overflowing with parchment rolls and inkwells.

"Hey," said Jonathan, slightly out of breath. His voice was distorted by the mirror's projection. "Didn't notice you trying to call, sorry."

"You're busy."

"I usually am. Good thing about being your own boss is that you get to decide when not to be." The priest grinned. The image in the mirror spun for a moment when Jonathan sat down on a chair Darren could not see. "How you doing? Settling in?"

"More or less," said Darren hesitantly. "By now, every...pony is surprisingly comfortable with me. The White family especially."

"Those were the ones with Sombra in the basement, right?" Jonathan narrowed one eye, trying to remember their faces.

"The very same. Though last I heard, Sombra is on the loose again... but under surveillance. I managed to catch him." Darren smirked. "At breakfast in front of a café. He was stealing a milk jug. It was almost too easy."

Jonathan shrugged. "Works for me. As long as he doesn't do shit to ponies anymore. He doesn't, does he?"

"He gets his food at the local shelter. I suppose finding a job would turn out to be difficult for him."

"Wow. How the mighty have fallen." There was a pause. "You get a job yet?"

Darren nodded. "Storekeeper. Sort of. It pays alright."

"Go Death Knight." Jonathan smirked, then the grin trickled off his face. "Wait a minute... your eyes..."

Darren could not help it. He simply smiled.

Jonathan hit the table with his flat hand. "Awesome! Man, you got healed, didn't you?"

"I still eat a lot. But the bloodlust has settled down, thank the Light."

"Yeah, thank the Light indeed. Though it must have been the Crystal Heart, too." Jonathan frowned. "You should come to Ponyville. Everybody misses you, Twilight especially. We could go to the lake, catch up some more."

"I will, soon," promised Darren. "In fact, I have an idea with... whom..." He cut off, losing his focus as he remembered his most recent nightmare. He had dreamt of the Whites - and of his own family. Princess Luna had not been there.

"Er, Hello? Azeroth to Darren?" Jonathan raised a brow, knocking at the mirrorframe.

"Sorry," muttered Darren. "I just remembered something."

"Are you sure you're okay? You got that thousand feet stare going on for a moment."

"I used to take my wife and children to Lake Lordaeron," Darren said quietly. "We even got to see the Citadel Barrier once." He smiled sadly. "Darcy loved the colour of the force field. She said it looked like Stratholme Lilies."

"You still think of them a lot, don't you," realized Jonathan.

"Every day." Darren's voice felt like sandpaper.

"Me too. Lizzie, I mean." Jonathan sighed. "I left her behind to study in Lordaeron. And shortly after I was ordained, the Scourge took over. I killed my sister, Darren. My own sister."

Darren nodded, rubbing his nose. "Hm," he said. He had expected something like that after Jonathan had hinted at his sister's death weeks ago. Darren felt sympathy for the young Priest rising up, adding to his own pain. So much for distraction. He cleared his throat.

Jonathan took a deep breath. "Good thing that the Whites don't know. Not that it would help anyway. But it does explain why you're so fond of those kids." He tapped his fingers on the table on his side. "I've been thinking about what you said. About you not having access to the Light anymore. If you don't mind me asking: What were you... before all of it?"

Darren hesitated, frowning. Jonathan leaned back, raising his hand dismissively. "Nevermind -"

"I was a Paladin," said Darren quickly.

Jonathan's mouth formed a silent, "Oh." He blinked twice, then asked, "Well. Maybe... the Light will come back to you, too."

Darren shook his head. "You kept in touch with the Light before and after you died. But you know how the Death Knights came to be, don't you?"

Jonathan gulped. He shuffled around on his chair as he muttered, "Yeah."

"My point," said Darren, raising his brow, "is that there are things you don't come back from. Even if the Light would forgive me for... everything, I still would not dare to wield it."

There was an awkward silence, filling with the things the former undead kept carrying around and did not talk about. Jonathan tapped his fingers again. Darren said nothing, unable to think of a way to change the subject. To his relief, Jonathan had that covered.

"About visiting Ponyville. You can bring any stuff you want me to enchant. Free of charge."

"I appreciate it," said Darren. "All of it."

Jonathan nodded and the corners of his mouth twitched into a brief smile.





The sun was low in the sky and tinted the glittering roofs of the city red and golden. A swarm of birds fluttered into the sky, disturbed by a figure that walked past a group of bushes close to the Barrier. This part of the city was nearest to the force field border and provided the most cover. The green belt that surrounded the Crystal Empire was dotted with villages but hills were scarce. If you wanted to leave the Empire undetected, neither the train nor the exposed meadows were an option.

Sombra could have taken a more direct path but he was in no hurry. After days and nights spent on the street he clung to the glimmer of hope he had found when a small voice had whispered to him in the dark.

There is a fortress in the white.

The voice had echoed in his head, so quietly that at first he had thought it had come from a nearby window. It had sounded different than the voice of the Crystal. Sombra had nothing to lose and the prospect of a house where he could stay, no matter his past, was tempting enough to follow the advice. So he had packed his pathetically small bundle, enough food to last for four days - he had taken it from the shelter when they had served something other than soup - and his too-short cloak.

Sombra reached the Barrier after three hours of walking. He was glad that, for some reason, the cold hardly bothered him. Was it his heritage that made him mostly immune to the ice? It took Sombra a whole day and night to find a collection of large dark grey rocks embedded in the ice, just out of sight from the city.

Go around it, whispered the voice, so Sombra carved a curvy path through the snow with his body as he circled the rocks. His hoof stepped on something wooden. He bent down and pushed the snow off the frozen planks. There was a door. It must have been part of a portal long ago before somepony had pulled it from its hinges. Sombra looked up and realized that the rocks were not rocks but in fact ruins, leftovers from thick walls. He laughed. The voice had been right. Sombra pushed some more snow away and looked around to figure out what shape the building must have had before.

It had been a small house, connected to a wall. A guardhouse. Maybe this was the perimeter of that fortress. There, some dozen steps ahead, were the remains of another wall. The ground rose to become a hill, almost as if...

"It's been buried," muttered Sombra. He looked up and realized how odd the shape of the snowhill was. Did magic hold it in place? He walked towards it; the snow shimmered in the sun. Or was it really the sun? It was hardly visible in the overcast morning sky. How could it make the hill glitter and glimmer that much? Carefully, Sombra inched forward. Another step, and another, and the snow shimmered even more. The closer he came to the hill the harder it was to make it out. Eventually, the illusion faded away and he stood in front of more walls. Dark stone, similar to the spikes that dotted the landscape of the Frozen North, was the buiding material of the ancient fortress that stood in front of him. It had been preserved from time by the spell that had banished and hidden it. It stood on an actual hill, rising at least five stories high, and was surrounded by two thick walls. Sturdy towers marked the five corners of the fortress. There were hardly any windows, probably due to the weather conditions. Am empty flagpole was erected on the largest tower, a rectangular shape that must have been the last line of defense in case the fortress was ever under siege.

As Sombra marveled over the magnificent yet somehow gloomy sight, the voice killed the moment.

"We are not alone!"

He narrowed his eyes. Slowly turning his head, Sombra cast a look at the trail he had left in the snow. A second set of hoofsteps branched away from his own. Somepony must have followed him and hidden behind the guardhouse ruins. He smirked and lit his horn.

"Come out!" he called against the wind. "I know you're there!"

Something rustled behind the corner of the wall. A blue earth pony in a thick woollen cloak slowly showed himself. He was carrying a polearm. The curved double blade looked sharp. The pony did not bother pointing the glaive at Sombra. For one, he was out of reach, and secondly, Sombra could easily disarm him with his magic.

"Hey, Mister Shard," said the pony. As he stepped closer, he had the swagger of a well-trained, strong guard. "I guess I could pretend to be here by chance but what's the point?"

"Why did you follow me?" demanded Sombra.

"Orders. You're free to go anywhere you like. But you do understand the city needs to keep tabs on you, right? At least for a while, to make sure you're done with being evil." The guard did not look the slightest bit intimidated. How long had he been on Sombra's tail? He had probably witnessed his daily visits to the Shelter. Sombra's insides turned into acid at the thought.

"Mind if we get into the castle?" asked the guard. "It's really cold out here."

The magic around Sombra's horn faded away. He cast a skeptical look at the guard. The voice said nothing so he decided to take a leap of faith. It was not as if the guard could report anything right now.

"Alright." He frowned at the guard once again, then he turned around and frowned at the portal in front of him.

"Wow, that thing looks old," said the guard with awe. "I had no idea they built anything outside the Barrier."

"Neither did I," muttered Sombra, bending forward to inspect the lock. He peered into the keyhole and grimaced. "Step back."

The guard took half a step away from Sombra and waited, his face unreadable.

Sombra focused and cast a small spell. With a 'clunk', the lock opened. "Hah! It worked!"

"Good job." The guard's tone was mocking but Sombra could also hear some relief mixed into it. Both of them pushed against the heavy door but nothing happened.

"I think it opens the other way," said the guard.

Sombra blushed. "I knew that," he said.

"Yeah, right. You just needed the exercise."

Sombra scoffed and pulled at the portal's handle. The door opened with ease and both ponies went inside.

"I'm Abrasive Paper," said the guard while Sombra unlocked the second portal. "Might as well get comfortable with the thought of me hanging around. I brought my own food." He grinned wryly.

"Fine. Just keep your distance. I'm Sombra," said Sombra, "but you can call me Shard."





The next day, Darren kept his promise to work longer and left Peppermint's store an hour after it had closed. He glanced at the next clock, which happened to be the school's clock, and picked up the pace. As the bell struck Seven, he jogged along the road. The ponies that he passed turned their heads, slightly curious, but left him alone. A few seemed to recognize him. He paid no attention to them. Instead, Darren scanned the houses left and right until he discovered the sign he had been looking for.

Feather Cloud - Pillows, Blankets, Furniture.

Darren slowed down when he was only a few steps away from the door. Taking a moment to catch his breath, he peered through the wide display window. It showed what the sign said: A comfortable couch and two chairs were grouped together, with pillows and blankets expertly draped over them. The colours of the blankets were still strong so apparently the owner changed the decor once in a while.

The doorbell jingled when Darren entered. Silence greeted him. A pony trotted closer, her hoofsteps muffled by the carpets on the ground.

"How may I help you?" Her voice was steady but her smile a little too wide to be entirely convincing.

"Hello," said Darren. "I would like to buy a carpet."

"Do you have anything specific in mind?" asked the clerk carefully, her smile still plastered onto her face.

Darren smirked. "Actually, yes. It should be as long as that couch over there and sky blue. On both sides."

The pony nodded. "I see... er... on both sides?" Her grin wavered. "I never heard that kind of request before," she admitted, slightly confused.

Darren waited.

"Though we have a few blue carpets over here." She directed Darren to a far corner of the store and showed him a rack where dozens of carpets were rolled up. "This one," she said, straining a little as she lifted one of them, "is a soft plush carpet imported from Equestria. It's very in season and you can put it anywhere."

Darren rubbed his neck, tilting his head. "Do you have anything... tougher?"

The pony's eyes widened, then narrowed as she thought quickly. "Uh... yes!" She beamed again and lifted another carpet. "Here. This carpet is wool and linen flatweave. Specially made for high-traffic areas. You can put it in the Train Station's foyer and it will stay alright for years."

For years? Darren was sure that was an exaggeration. But it did not matter that much.

"High traffic sounds good," said Darren. "May I?" He stretched out his hand and rubbed the carpet's corner between his fingers. The threads were twisted together and woven very tightly. The knots were done by an expert. "Very good," he said. "How much is it?"

"One hundred and fifty-four bits," said the mare, her tone neutral.

Darren felt heat creeping up his ears. "How about a carpet half the size?"





Darren eventually settled for the larger carpet. The shopkeeper had offered him to split the payment into two. He would pay the second half in a month. As he carried the rolled-up cloth on his shoulder, Darren thought about his conversation with Jonathan. He almost walked past the Valiant Prince and only noticed where he was when a pony bumped into him.

"Sorry," muttered the mare at the same time as Darren said, "Excuse me." Then, they both looked at each other.

"Hi, Darren," said Feather, chuckling. 

"Hello," said Darren. "Did you work the late shift?" he asked politely.

"Yes. It was exhausting. I'm on my way home. Oh, I see you bought a carpet? Does that mean you've found an apartment?"

"The carpet is not for the apartment. Which I do not have yet." Now was his chance. "Feather, I intend to pay a visit to Ponyville this weekend. If you wish, you and your family..." He hesitated. Feather looked at him with expectation. "...could come along," he finished quickly. Why was it suddenly so difficult for him to ask? There she was, a little turquise pony, and he felt as if he was facing a horde of Nerub'ar spiders without his sword...

Feather tapped her chin. Then, she smiled. "I wouldn't mind a little trip outside of the Empire. I need to talk to my husband, of course. The foals would love it for sure. They have never been to Equestria before. I can tell you tomorrow, say, after work? Or I'll leave a message if you are busy."

"Splendid," said Darren. "I will wait for it. Good evening, Feather."

"Good evening. See you then! I'll tell the foals you said hello." Feather gave Darren a friendly wave as she walked by.

"Please do." Darren smiled at the pony.

As Feather continued on her way, the smile slipped off Darren's face.

Did he have the right to do this? To just butt into that family? Was it not enough that he had to keep an eye on Eclipse? But Feather had actually seemed alright with the invitation, even appreciated it. If Darren had learned one thing about the ponies it was that they were extreme amateurs when it came to faking emotions. If things went south, he could always take his leave. He was bound to no one. Darren frowned darkly as he realized that this was also the downside of his situation. A pony that passed him in the hallway of the Prince flinched when he saw his expression. Darren quickly nodded a greeting and hurried upstairs.