"Your Majesty, shall I escort you to your chambers?"
Tourmaline marked the place he was reading and set the book aside. "No thank you. I think I shall spend a few more hours in here so you are dismissed, Spinel."
The yellow-brown crystal pony bowed, stomped one forehoof on the floor and spun around. Once he'd left, Tourmaline waited for a few more minutes before springing up from his chair and navigating his way through the library, checking around him to ensure that he wasn't being watched or followed. His parents possessed an odd fascination with ensuring that their son almost always had a royal escort and, quite frankly, he was sick to death of it. Garnet also received similar treatment, though it was nowhere as severe to the degree as it was with Tourmaline. Was it because he was the crown prince or was there a more clandestine motive?
"Now where is it?"
He searched through the magic section, gathering up every book or scroll he could discover on the topic of black magic and curled up on the floor. A few days ago, Tourmaline was studying on polymorphic theory in his study when he inadvertently enveloped a lamp in a black light and crushed it into a twisted mess of glass and copper. His first inclination was to inform one or both of his parents about it but the strange sensation of déjà vu flashed through his mind and he decided to keep the information to himself. Not only had his scholarly nature been evoked, but there was a feeling nagging at the back of his skull that he was meant to do this. Despite repeated warnings on the taboo subject of dark magic, using it had feel good...natural even.
Closing his eyes, Tourmaline steadied his breathing, focusing on nothing and yet picturing fully what his objective was. His horn crackled with arcane energy and a soft crack-tinkle was heard. He opened his eyes. A cluster of black crystals had formed on the floor in front of him. He laughed in marvel at the new development, unaware of the purple mist seeping from his eyes. A newfound joy entered his chest, filling him to the brim with the kind of bliss he hadn't felt in ages.
"Skuggabarn, ég er með svörin sem þú leitar að."
Tourmaline spun around. "Is somepony there?"
As strange as it was, even though he'd never heard such a language spoken, he knew what the words meant.
Before Tourmaline could question it, the voice began again, this time louder:
"Shadow-child, I have the answers you are looking for."
The stallion shook his head. Was he really going to follow a mystery voice?
"Um, no thank you. I think I'll remain here."
"Are you sure? You feel empty and yet do not know why. You suspect your parents are hiding something from you. When you cast dark magic, you get the sensation of being complete. I can tell you why."
Warily, Tourmaline cantered in the direction the voice seemed to be emanating from, his mind abuzz with questions. He should've been terrified but was mostly curious. Answers were what he needed and by Malachite, he was going to get them. Why did dark magic come so easily to him? Why did it fill a void in his life that family and love couldn't? Why did it feel as though his parents were hiding something from him?
"Follow the sound of my voice. I will aid you in what you've forgotten."
Tourmaline's journey concluded at the very end of the eastern wing of the royal library, where a gilded fence closed off a particular section, one that was expressly off-limits to even him and his sister. The Forbidden Section, a subdivision dedicated to all books, tomes, scrolls and parchments whose knowledge on black arcana rivaled that of the royal library at Canterlot. A chill skittered down his spine. He'd never dared to enter the Forbidden Section, his fear of punishment overruling his natural curiosity and scholarly interests. Now times were different. He wanted answers and they appeared to be just beyond this gate.
The young prince scanned the gate with his horn, revealing a series of faint purple beams that wrapped web-like around the section's gate and fence. This confirmed his suspicions that there was indeed a spell cast on the gate designed to alert the caster of any intruders. He frowned and voiced his concerns.
"I can't get through. Mother or Father placed a warning charm on it."
"Do not let such trivialities halt you. Focus. Use your natural talents."
He nodded and breathed, feeling magic soaking in through every pore of his body, filling it up with a seemingly-endless pool of energy. A sky-blue glow emanated from his horn and flowed into the gate. The strands of the warning charm began to slowly but steadily snap before giving way and vanishing into nothingness. With the web now disabled, Tourmaline went to work on the lock, quickly prying it open and tossing the piece of metal aside before slipping past the gate.
"You are almost there, shadow-child. Just a little bit further," the voice whispered encouragingly.
Lacking any of his former reservations, Tourmaline continued ahead, his soul reinvigorated by the very notion of defying his parents' orders and breaking into the Forbidden Section. The shelves around him were packed full of texts both new and old, detailing the history and methods of spells prohibited by regular society. He paused in front of a horizontal glass case and peered inside, observing a leather-pound book that appeared to be made out of flesh and featured a pony's screaming face for a cover, its mouth locked in an eternal wail. He made a mental note of it and strode forward, for once completely dauntless and purpose-driven.
At last, Tourmaline's hooves planted themselves in front of a glass cube atop a wooden pillar. Inside, there was a book whose spine, front and back covers were constructed out of a series of interlocking black crystals and radiated with a great and terrible power. He could practically taste the dark magic that seeped out of the tome, the book calling to him to pick it up and pour over its secrets. But should he? Was this forbidden knowledge outlawed for a reason?
"You wish to know the emptiness inside yourself? Take a look inside," the voice softly goaded, removing any shred of doubt that the book in question was the source of the mysterious guiding voice that had started him on this journey.
Tourmaline's body began moving on its own accord, every movement languid yet precise. It was as though he was in a dream and yet he never wanted to wake up. He tapped the surface of the glass with his horn and commanded it to shatter, watching almost with delight as the glass shards tumbled to the floor. Plunging both hooves inside, Tourmaline grasped the book and heaved it out, beyond caring that this was the point of no return. Catching the upper right edge of the top edge, he opened the cover.
Images and voices bombarded his head, overloading it with stimuli as he felt himself lifted off of the floor and six feet into the air. He may or may not have shouted but it was impossible to tell over the torrent of visions hammering his skull. He remembered bobbing and weaving between a train of wagons with a small group of foals. A slender mare with a maroon scarf wrapped around her head called his name and he eagerly leapt into her embrace as a heavily built, barrel-chested stallion wrapped his forelegs around the two. They...they were his parents!
The memories turned south, however. Fires raged throughout a snow-covered village, screams of terror piercing the air. He could see his father swinging an axe at some armored crystal ponies, his face covered in crimson war paint. The large stallion managed to take down five soldiers before a reddish-orange crystal pony struck him down with a sword-jab between his shoulder blades. Tourmaline recognized him as General Sunstone, one of his father's-no, King Carnelian's-oldest friends.
Everything came back to Tourmaline: hiding beneath his mother's still-warm corpse, his discovery and subsequent rescue by Queen Aquamarine, being taken to the Crystal Heart and not only transformed into a crystal pony but also having his memories harvested by the royal couple. It would seem that memory erasure would become a pastime of Carnelian's as he would alter Tourmaline's memories every time the prince would rediscover his dark magic or had a nightmare about the massacre he'd witnessed. Cracks leapt across his crystal skin, creating crevasses that spikes of green and black light peeked through. Anger pulsated deep within Tourmaline's heart as a crackling black and purple orb began to encompass him. Overcome by this betrayal, his maw opened up and he released an ear-splitting cry of anguish.
The orb exploded, launching bookshelves, shattering windows and setting fire to books and loose pages as they fluttered in the air. The room's sole occupant slowly descended to the floor, indifferent towards the devastation he'd unleashed and only concerned with what had just transpired. Lumbering towards the black crystal book, which was the only object to survive the burst of dark magic, he wrapped it in a black aura and stuffed it into his saddle bag. He turned and his eyes locked onto the fragments of shattered light gray crystals that lay strewn about. Sifting through the shiny detritus, he retrieved a piece that looked suspiciously like half of his face and peered into it as though looking into a mirror.
The face that stared back owned a dark gray coat with sharp, angular features. Purple smoke trailed out of his eyes, which possessed crimson irises that burned in the darkness like dying embers. Dropping his "face," Tourmaline ground it beneath a hoof, somewhat satisfied at the crunching sounds it made. He wobbled slightly but quickly righted himself, rage fueling his muscles. How? How could the so-called righteous and just rulers of the Crystal Empire do this to him?
As if on cue, a platoon of royal guards swarmed the room, their crossbows and speared aimed directly as the intruder. King Carnelian and Queen Aquamarine followed closely behind, at first bewildered but then shocked when they observed what was unfolding before them. Tourmaline's eyes went from the stony faces of the guards to the horrified countenances of the king and queen. It was then at that moment that he saw what he'd been blind to before: fear.
They were afraid of him.
"This isn't over," he angrily promised, vanishing before anypony could say or do anything.
~*~
Those who lived in the Crystal Empire knew well enough not to travel through the Frozen North at night, especially not when it was still winter. Thus, they considered it nigh-impossible to accomplish. One lone stallion, however, didn't care whether or not it was smart. All he knew was that he couldn't be in the Crystal Empire for another second longer. Once he'd teleported away from the royal library, Tourmaline gathered together his warmest clothes, some food and a collection of bits before storming his way past the royal guards stationed at the city's front gates. The guards did little to stop him, believing it foolhardy to chase after a criminal fleeing into the unforgiving wastes.
He ran through the darkness, tearing a path through screaming winds and antagonistic snow, shoving through the white clumps in order to put as much distance between him and the crystal ponies as much as possible. Despite the sensation of his very veins freezing inside of him, the knowledge of his "parents'" betrayal burned deep within his skull, alighting his insides with the fires of fury and vengeance. He'd tried flying and managed to get some distance before being forced into landing and resuming his perilous trek through the snow. There was a reason that the wind was known as the "Teeth of the North."
The outcrop of a small hill caught his attention and Tourmaline squinted to ascertain the existence of a cave embedded within it. Silently admonishing his limbs into compliance, he trudged towards the mouth of the cave and lit his horn, illuminating the darkness. He paused, knowing full well that something could be living inside the cave and waited. Deciding to put this theory to the test, he released a flare of popping golden-orange that sailed through the cave and fizzled out. Half a minute passed by before he heard the roar.
Something big and angry plodded out of the cave's entrance, standing to its full height. It was a dire-bear, a species indigenous to the wastes known for its sheer size, bone-crushing strength and razor-sharp teeth and claws. Its maw snapped open and flashed its tusks, issuing another roar. Tourmaline offered one of his own and a stream of green and purple flames erupted from his horn, striking the dire-bear right in the face. It staggered back in agony, giving its opponent the opportunity to seize the dire-bear in a telekinetic grip and smash it repeatedly against the cave's upper lip until its spine snapped.
Tourmaline nestled into the cave, feeling quite content with himself. Following his battle with the dire-bear, he'd dissected the animal's body for applicable recycling, using its fat and bones for makeshift torches and its fur in the creation of a toasty-warm blanket. Ponies could, on very rare occasions, survive on a carnivorous diet so he supposed the dire-bear's meat would serve as food for the time being. The storm would eventually pass and then he could see about finding his way out of the Frozen North. He huddled beneath his fur-blanket and basked in the fire's heat.
His discovery in the royal library refused to be ignored so he ruminated on it, his anger at the knowledge increasing with every minute. Yes, they spared him from death but did that excuse their behavior? They lied to him, erased his memories and manipulated him like a marionette, tugging on his strings so that he could dance at their whim! Did Garnet know? No, she couldn't keep a secret to save her life. Celestia? His chest burned at the question and then he ruled her out. Celestia worshiped the ground her mother walked on and would've informed her as soon as possible.
Tourmaline pushed one wing out of the blanket to stare at it, watching the feathers ripple atop the muscles with revulsion rather than fascination as he once did. He recalled King Carnelian's reaction at his ascension. He wasn't struck with awe. It was terror, terror at knowing that an umbrum was granted the power of an alicorn. Tourmaline scowled.
Alicorns….they're the reason things are so terrible! They're behind everything!
Flinging the blanket aside, Tourmaline erected a six-foot-tall crystal and conjured a sword, dipping a foot of its blade into the fire. It didn't matter that he'd lose power, he couldn't go on existing life as one of those...things. He was a shadow pony and he would live as one or not at all. Cramming a leftover dire-bear bone into his mouth, he magically pulled the sword from the fire and stood in front of the crystal, staring into its reflective surface. Spreading one feathery appendage, he raised the sword above where the wing's shoulder socket met the back muscles, his skin crawling from the heat of the white-hot blade.
Tourmaline bit down into the bone and inhaled deeply as the blade descended.
Agony overloaded his senses, plunging him in and out of darkness. He laid atop the dire-bear fur, his stomach to the floor and his mutilated back facing skyward. His severed wings laid crumpled up in the corner. Once he'd had the strength, he kicked them away and piled clumps of snow onto his raw back, ignoring the screaming of his flesh. The initial burns were terrible but it was the stinging afterwards that was worse, almost as if his skin was being repeatedly stabbed by a thousand tiny daggers.
As Tourmaline laid there collecting his thoughts, he realized that he could no longer call upon his title or his foster parents for aid. He was all he had now. The alicorns would pay for their crimes, against both him and Equestria. The Crystal Empire may not have been his by blood-right but it would be by conquest.
"I am no longer 'Prince Tourmaline.' I will use the name my birth and true parents bestowed upon me. I am Sombra and I will have my revenge in this life or the next."