~ IV ~
Sombra the Giant
The train pulled into the veil of black paint, itself taken into a world of nothingness, no stars or light. It was a complete absence beyond the windows of the train. Were it not for them being in the cart, the duo would have fallen into the void.
It wasn't healthy for children to contemplate the pure nothingness of death at such a young age.
Much less summon an existential deception for it.
"It's been a little crazy, hasn't it?" Shining tried to offer to his wife the opening of the conversation, finding that, despite their shared state, the same stimulus fed to them both—their interpretations would still be different. Those gone without expressions drives many to madness. "Woken in the middle of the night. Fused into a two-headed being. Sharing everything like a truly jointed couple."
Cadance ended up throwing her hind leg on the seat opposite, the other following afterward, all while she laid back the best that she could. "I enjoy it. Being close to you as one... y' know how I used to yell about this." Her muzzle turned and she smiled up at him. "How we'd need to be stitched together for us to spend more time with one another."
Shining smirked. "Think Flurry's heart took that to mean literally?"
"There's always a strong possibility." Cadance's eyes flicked downward. It didn't feel like they were moving beyond the faint momentum of the train pulling in their stomach. The view beyond the window never changed. "But being alone meant that... when we came together... it was because we actively wanted it. Looking out that window leaves me feeling like this is the end of everything."
"It's not."
"But it feels that way and... usually when I feel this way... I'm able to cuddle you." Cadance giggled in a whimper. "But it's just not the same when we're like this. Hard to feel you around me... when you're half of me. Your touch just isn't the same—like me touching my own body."
"But you say it feels different when I'm watching you do it, right?"
"That is the sweetest way to break my woes, sweetie."
"Point is it doesn't matter if the hoof was your own or someone else—it was just the feeling of more that comes with being someone else." Shining leaned his head away, not to become further, but to allow them to come closer. "You can still lean your head on my neck and make those little sounds as I stroke your mane, right?"
Cadance's expression was sad and happy, a mixture of bittersweet, one that won out on its sweetness. Her head leaned into his neck, which she snuggled into, finding a soft, warm, fuzzy patch to get drunk upon.
The sensation was tingly to them both, its euphoria spreading in them both, compounding from their jointed experience. Both of them were awash in the love they felt for each other, consuming the two into one, a peacefulness allowing them to drift away.
Even being in a dream, they had yet to sleep, and this was their first to nod off, together, the best they could.
The trained pulled out from the painting of the abyss, fears of that being the end of their lives now removed though, snuggled together, they were strangely prepared for it. Death didn't come and life went on.
The station loomed in the distance.
The trained pulled into the tracks, slowly, an automatic rhythm to it. Shining had been gazing out the window for the last hour, a foreleg around his wife's chest, brushing her coat, hoping it helped her sleep.
Before shaking her away from it.
"Cadance... baby... we're here." Few gentle shakes to be safe. "We're here. Wake up now. Time for us to finish this."
Cadance roused slowly from her slumber with a cute yawn and the rubbing of her eye. Her lips smacked together from the dryness of sleep. Mane frizzled in a way that drove him crazy in love, he slowly moved to stand—and she did the same.
The two gave a bow to the dragon on their way out, stepping out through the doors as they opened, feeling them close behind seconds afterward. The train pulled forward again after a chime, beating ahead no matter the weather.
It disappeared into the painting of the abyss, stranding them in the place, supposedly, called home.
Trekking across the station showed it to be barren, the snow around looking painted on, everything looking as if moved inches to the left. The duo took down the street to the homes, feeling hollow on the eyes, existing to prove they were there—but not feeling functional in the slightest.
"What do you reckon?" Shining tossed the question to his wife, who looked around as he kept ahead, freed to do as she pleased so long as her legs kept forward. "Many buildings but none that feel like homes. Seeing them from her room... but never knowing the ponies who live in them."
"Maybe that's the case," Cadance flicked back in a small voice, "or maybe it's Sombra who's tricking her view of things. Either way, we'll talk to her deeply once all this is done. Quell all of her fears and answer all her questions. We can be sure anything he tacked on can be removed that way."
"Always talking things out... knew you were my better half for a reason."
"Hush with that."
"Dad jokes never die, hon."
The trip had been a slow one through the empire, the places unchanged despite their hollow state, the feeling of exploring the out of bounds section of a world. It beckoned for them to head to the spire itself. Looming in the distance, the place where they belonged, where the world wanted them to be, somewhere safe despite the misery oozing from the structure.
The two-headed being didn't know how or when it happened, but they broke into a sprint, together, reading the mood and, feeling the same, the suddenness of a dash broken into, together. Being this connected had taken them back. The same impulses caused their feelings of connection all those years ago.
The bottom of the spire was empty, no guards and no heard, nothing loaded in at all. Only the doors to one of the pillars being open, an ascension they took into and upward easily, beating against the steps, ascending quicker than needed.
They exited the spire to the hallway, an exact replica of home, only this time, none who made this place home were here. No guards or maids or the objects and mementos taken from a life lived. Nothing like that. Just the functions of the structure remained.
Be it Flurry's reflection or Sombra's will.
Unknown.
The two came to the towering doors of the throne room and, spinning together, bucked the doors back as the scene opened. Walking down the spacious measure of the room, they had locked eyes with the beast, the one sitting on a throne crafted of his own.
Sombra's form consumed most of the throne and the space of the room, an utter giant of evil while purple mists billowed from his eyes—which were a sheet of stale green. His mouth opened and laughter erupted. Hearty chuckles capable of shaking the ground.
Next to his head, and hanging from the ceiling, was a cage, little and round and meant for birds... only holding their daughter behind bars. White forelegs wrapped around it, clinging to steel, needing to keep to something as she was scared.
"Welcome... welcome! Knew it would be a matter of time before your kind infiltrated my defence." Sombra leaned forward as his powerful pecs tensed from the shifting of his body. Elbow laid on his thigh. Cheek laid into his hand. He looked at the two with bemused interest. "It would appear I wasn't the only one transformed by this little brat."
He flicked the cage with an ebony hoof, it swinging, in a jerk, left and right, the fill within more rattled than the bars. Shining strode forward at once—held back by the other half not following. It was her patience that compensated for his haste. Not allowing for a defeat... or, at least, not an early one.
"Relax! This little brat ensured my magic was locked beyond the veil of her consciousness." Sombra bemoaned upon sitting proper, his form, shape and muscles, filling out the space of the throne. "My form is a rendition of the torment the little one envisions me as. Giant and scary and powerful. Not the worst exchange of my life."
He flicked the cage, harder, and the cry of a daughter... sparked the rage of a mother.
The two dashed forward at the beast without needing to say a word, the giant rising in pride at finally finding a fight—one that wouldn't prove so quick a defeat. Being the king of nightmares meant torment to others was easily, and challenges came rarely.
Shining felt the circle of a shadow pass over him, the jolt sending his wife leaping to the right, his own legs following in suit. But then jolt struck him in demands to jump left, which he did and, trusting in his wife—dashed them forward.
Sombra stomped in the same place to the cracks appearing beneath his hooves, deepening in every stomp, head lifted in dark laughter in amusement of destruction. In the exhaustion brought on himself, his left slowed and, feeling the time to be right.
Shining made his strike. He dashed in hops, left and right, gaining more air in every succession. On the final one, he beat against the ground, soaring into and through the air and whipped their body around. Their hindlegs struck against the expanse of the thigh, through skin and muscle to the faint cracking of bone.
Laughter then groaning as the gigantic hoof slid out from the giant, and he fell to his side, his colossal frame clattering on the ground. The duo didn't waste any time in climbing the back of the beat, clambering over the edge of his arm, together, and dashing across the surface.
"Insects!" Sombra barely rose his head from the ground, his gaze settling on them, anger flushing in purple fog from his eyes. "Begone!"
He flicked his arm upward in a decision thought to be wise, that was, until giving the couple a desired trajectory and momentum. They spun the air not from losing control but encouraging the gaining of kinetic energy compounding within their movement.
And striking, with the full might of their fall and form, into the base of his horn, where its redness had dimmed—and the crack across it remained. They deepened the line, causing it to spread, crack to crackle, the snapping of a stick.
The couple's hooves broke through the slice of the horn, falling over and onto the ground, the screeching of crystal sounding beneath their hooves. They slid back without losing their balance or their expression of determination. The clatter of the horn followed the groaning of the beast—its arms up, clasped over forehead and horn, leaving a gap down his middle, the center of his chest exposed.
Words were, once again, not needed.
Both of them broke forward in a run, not pushing their limits for that wasn't the intent, just the right speed to make this work. The giant horn twirled on the smoothness of the ground, around and around, spin after spin. Seconds this kept the same, the flatness of its base glinting for the seconds it faced them.
That was until they threw their faces against it.
Their joint body came against the massive object, something that, handled alone, could not be moved. But in their strength and their will becoming one, they bore enough power to stop the momentum of the thing's spin.
They pushed on it, ever forward, across the sleekness of the floor. Pushing and yelling as the fallen king did the same, unaware of their plan, barely moving his hooves to see. It was too late as, by the time he spotted them, he'd also detect the sharpness of the horn dipping from his view and piercing into his chest.
Getting the instrument wedged as profoundly as their strength would allow, the two backed away, in leaps of three—avoiding the sweep of the large hand. Sombra growled as he rose and slid back himself, grasping the pillar of horn in his chest. He fought to pull it, pink mists flooding out from the puncture.
Shining and Cadance grinned to each other, one coming to wipe the snout of the other, sweat done away with. They tensed again in their readiness to finish this. But a sound caught them. One draining adrenaline from the heart and the excitement of being a hero from the head.
It was the sound of a filly crying.
Both of them looked in the same direction for both of their ears, independent from the other, were tuned to hear her fears. The sounds of a daughter deeply loved and cherished. Gazing right of the scene, there the cage laid on the ground, broken from its chain, the filly inside, crying, for one simple fact.
Not because of the nightmares that surrounded her.
Or being caged by a giant as scary as Sombra.
But in seeing her parents fighting.
The cage, cracking, then burst into dust and pixels and glimmering dots of white. She sat on the floor with forelegs covering her crying face, unable to handle it all anymore, the breakdown of strife and dread hitting its apex in enduring it for so many days.
Both of them rushed over to their daughter, not needing to feel the cue from the other, but rather, a natural instinct blowing them forward—connection or other half be damned. It was this that truly united them. Not needing to be of the same body to rush to their daughter, to be a parent to her.
It was an automatic thing rendering them the same.
They came behind and cradled her in the middle of their body, the divot and divide between them which the child then filled, allowing a sense of wholeness, one true and not forced, sparking genuine connection. Something all eagerly felt and desired and provided for one another.
Back on the throne, which Sombra had sat back, the feeling of its power needed to grant him comfort... he pulled the horn from his chest. The wound healed seconds later. He chuckled, the evil laughter returning, this time, however, sounding lighter on the ears.
Suddenly. Lightness. Sombra glanced around with vast sways ceasing to as such. The throne grew around him, no amount of shifting could his body occupy its space, his power and form unable to fill it. Smaller and smaller he was becoming. Shrinking. Dwindling into squeaks—which fit the size of a mouse well.
And just like one, he scampered from the throne, running away, squeezing himself into a hole created in the wall.
Shining and Cadance continued to stroke their daughter's back, feeling the harsh sobs become smoother. Sudden gasps reduced until she was breathing normally. Soon the pent-emotions were being expressed and, pleasantly emptied, the little girl passed out against their belly.
Both of their horns glowed, each surrounding half of the filly's body, lifting her, gently, onto their backs. The world groaned as things returned to normal. The throne shrunk and windows returned to the room. Walking together, the family left, out into the hall to where the balcony loomed.
And through it, they pushed out, into the starting of a new day.
Twilight stood on the balcony on the other side, the glimmer of teleportation fading from around her, Sunburst on her back. Below were the streets filling with Crystal Ponies, the houses creaking as they shifted into homes. And in the distance, the sky kissed by sunlight, brought about an orange glow on the horizon.
The sun then slowly rose in the hazy state that those, braving through the night, can only see it as.