The undulating shadowy mass birthed a crystal pony. Its body skidded across the ancient ice, its armor scraping and grinding until it stopped barely three hooves from the abyss. It trembled. It twitched. It bled. The lights of its eyes shone only faintly.
“Perfect.”
Rabia became corporeal. The sky howled at her presence, unleashing a blistering gale that caressed her frigid form. She cast her gaze across the moiling shadows. Thousands of eyes stared back—pinpricks of ghostly light like so many barren stars. She locked her stare on one pair in particular. “Ira,” she said, “come forth.”
A reddish head—equine in shape only—rose from the mass. The face was akin to a corpse, emaciated and decayed. Her dead eyes betrayed nothing. She leapt from the group, flared her gossamer wings, and fluttered down on the opposite side of the pony. “Yes, Mother,” she said, bowing low.
Drifting forward, Rabia beheld the pony’s face. It sniffled, its tears lost in the melt wetting its cheeks. Rabia pinned its skull to the glacier with an audible crack. The pony roared and flailed weakly. Glaring deep into the pony’s eyes, Rabia said, “Take it.”
“Mother,” Ira said, “we don’t know what will happen. Perhaps a lesser umbrum than I should—”
“Do it!” Rabia screeched.
Without further hesitation, Ira approached. Her skin flaked and scattered like dry paper, whirling around in her own ethereal breeze. Bulging and morphing, her mane and tail coalesced into one. Her body twisted. Her wings broke. The very image of Ira mutated into nothing more than a wisp of darkness. Only her eyes remained, and they shone a haunting white as they loomed over the helpless creature.
Quick as lightning, Ira latched onto the pony’s face. Her form split and crammed itself into the pony’s nostrils, ears, mouth, and eyes, tearing the surrounding flesh to make room. The pony gurgled, which rose into a strangled scream. Its limbs thrashed and its wounds sprayed blood, staining the snow. The surrounding crowd moaned in delight. Rabia watched closely as Ira’s essence wriggled beneath the pony’s face. Her grin widened as the last traces of darkness vanished from sight.
The pony went limp. Rabia lifted her hoof away and stepped back to the edge of the abyss. For several long seconds, nothing happened. Gritting her teeth, Rabia shouted, “Rise!”
On command, the pony’s eyes flickered open. Crimson mist clouded them. Ira’s essence seeped from the pony’s wounds like thin plumes of smoke. The pony pushed to its hooves, turned to Rabia, and smiled.
Rabia approached and held the pony’s chin. “How do you feel?”
“Strong,” said the scratchy voice. “Very strong. Although its love is agonizing. I don’t know how long I’ll be able to stand that.”
“Just long enough, I’m sure.” Rabia turned to the roiling darkness. “Remember this day, my children! At last, we have found our true power. With this weapon, nothing will stand in our way—least of all that vile empire. We will reclaim the tundra for our own, as our ancestors long intended. The umbrum shall rise again!” Thousands of shrill voices cheered. Umbral heads rose and sank in the shadowy sea by the dozen, whinnying their victory chorus.
With a ghastly sucking sound, Ira pulled free from the pony, materializing at Rabia’s side. The pony collapsed, its chest heaving. Rabia snapped her head sideways. “Hmm, now what to do with you?”
Coughing up a dark red splatter, the pony wheezed. In a hoarse whisper it said, “Let me go, please… My f-family needs me.”
Rabia lowered her head until the streams of shadow bleeding off her muzzle licked the pony’s flesh. She felt the warmth of its hope and love even now. “And if I allow you to leave,” she said, “do you promise not to speak of anything you saw here?”
“Y-yes!” the pony said. “I won’t tell a soul. Not the captain. Not the princess. Nopony.”
“Good.” Rabia’s eyes flashed. She crumbled into her own wispy essence and tore her way through the pony’s face. Her spirit entwined with its in a macabre dance. Darkness pulsed like blood, permeating the creature’s entire being. What little hope and love remained in its heart flickered—a candle to Rabia’s blizzard.
Seeing through its eyes, Rabia rose and trotted to the abyss. She beamed down into oblivion. “But just in case, let’s make sure you never get the chance.” In one fluid motion, she threw herself over the edge and pulled out of the pony’s form. It unleashed a soul-splitting wail as it vanished into the chasm. Its cry echoed into nothing, quickly lost in the wind.