I’ve been keeping track of everything that has happened in my journal, and taking extra good care to hide it when out of my room, or keeping it on me at all times. Princess Twilight had noticed me being distant the morning after the incident, and though I know she won’t dare snoop through my things, I am also well aware that she knew I was lying when I said I was fine. I’m sure she expects me to come clean eventually, but I’m not sure if I can.
After all, it’s not as if telling her that Canterlot castle is haunted by the very stallion she murdered would sound even remotely sane.
Not that I felt sane after such an incident, and despite my fears, I had returned the next night, convinced it really had been a nightmare. There had been nothing in the room, but I could’ve sworn I heard whispers and saw shadows dance. Princess Twilight’s throne remained empty the entire time I was there, and not even announcing myself triggered any activity.
For a while, I was sure it had been a dream, though I still checked the room for the next few days. For nearly every trip, there was nothing, until on what I had decided was my final day. That was when I saw King Sombra again.
He had been on Twilight’s throne again, considerably less lucid than the last time I’d seen him, trembling and much more transparent. He seemed to sway in that ever present yet nonexistent wind, and his eyes were so much duller than they had been before. Deader, even.
I had tried to speak to him, to ask him the questions burning in my mind, but he was all but oblivious of me. On the few occasions he had noticed me, he had opened his mouth to speak in silence, or shaken his head. He’d looked so tired, but the dead couldn’t be tired, could they? Whatever the case, I eventually realized that I wouldn’t be getting anything out of him, so I thanked him for his time and left.
I spent the next night working on my own studies, but my curiosity continued to grow, and I refused to give up on my research. I needed to know how and why these spirits existed, and I knew that the only way to get the truth was through the spirits themselves. My anxiety in the matter was still strong, but neither Sombra nor any of the other specters had shown any true malice for me thus far, so I would continue to try and speak with them.
This was either the stupidest or most brilliant thing I've done yet.
Pushing open the door slowly, I peeked around the room before quietly announcing myself, “Hello? It’s Luster Dawn, are you here tonight?”
I waited a few moments for a response, but none came, so I made my way inside. There were no shadows or whispers, just the usual silence of the night. The moon was nearly full, so the room was aglow in colors. Princess Twilight’s throne sat empty ahead of me. I made my way toward it, expecting Sombra to appear out of nowhere, or for the cold that accompanied his presence to make itself known.
“Why is it that you keep coming back?”
My horn sparked as I turned in surprise, the dead king standing behind me. He looked much more aware today, and considerably more solid than he had a couple nights ago.
I smothered my magic when I saw him eyeing it, explaining, “I wanted to talk to you.”
He blinked, tilting his head curiously, “And why is that?”
“I wanted to know how you were still here.”
“Not how. Why.”
I repressed a frown. He was being cryptic, but I wasn’t sure if I should have expected much else from a manipulative being such as him.
“Why are you still here then?” I asked.
“Why do you think?”
That time I did frown, “Because you’re stubborn?”
He grinned, but it wasn’t malicious. If anything, it seemed cheeky.
“That could certainly be a factor,” He said, “Though I have reason to believe there are others.”
I waited for him to continue, but all he did was stare down at me with his dull, lifeless eyes. He should have scared me, and I think he wanted to, but I wasn’t having it.
“And just what are these other factors?”
“Well, I’d say the method of death is a major one,” He said, grin fading into a grimace, “Very few of my subjects were lucky enough to have a peaceful death, and I can assure you my own was quite agonizing.”
A part of me wanted to defend my teacher, but I bit my tongue at the thought. It was better not to agitate him further, my next question was risky enough.
“How did you die?”
“Painfully. With your teacher smiling down at me as my body was melted into nothing.”
That didn’t thoroughly answer my question, but the pure venom that oozed from his voice convinced me not to pry further. It was probably disrespectful to question the dead about their method of death anyway. At least I had other questions to ask.
“How did you manage to become their king, anyway? You didn’t force them, did you?”
“You’re a curious little one, aren’t you,” He observed, before shaking his head, “There was no cruel intent when I became their king. In fact, they asked me to take the role.”
“Somehow I doubt that.”
Sombra’s grin returned, “That’s because you’re still among the living, little Luster.”
He made his way toward me, his hoofsteps silent and his mane flowing in the imaginary wind that always seemed to accompany him. I took a step back, hiding my fear as well as I could, but he made no motion to touch me. Instead, he walked to one of the stained glass windows. Flurry Heart’s specifically.
Staring at it wistfully, he said, “There had been another before me. A Crystal Pegasus who had lost his luster, one of the few escapees from my Empire before I had laid my curse upon it. He’d evacuated to Canterlot, desperately begging the Princesses to find a way to bring his home back so he could see his family again. They never even bothered to look for a way, and he died before he could ever see the ponies he loved again.”
I was hesitant to ask my next question, my heart skipping a beat at what Sombra could have possibly done to this pony. I couldn’t even imagine how he could have felt, seeing the very being who had ruined his life joining him in the afterlife.
“What happened to him?” I asked, voice quiet, “You didn’t destroy him, did you?”
I wasn’t even sure if the dead could be destroyed, but Sombra seemed amused at the idea.
“Quite the contrary, he was so far gone he could no longer remember who it was he had lost, but I knew,” Sombra explained, “I helped him remember, because I remembered them myself. Crystal Pegasi are few and far between, and I had distinct memories of his wife and child. They had been a feisty duo, and I remember punishing them often.”
His implications horrified me.
“You killed them, didn’t you?”
Sombra laughed, “You may not believe it, but I have never directly killed anypony. Enslaved and manipulated, but never killed.”
“What of the Pegasus? Does that not count as a killing?”
“I think you forgot the part where I mentioned him escaping to Canterlot,” He shot back, a hint of irritation in his tone, “Whatever the case, he’s no longer among us, and his family are safe in the Empire. They may still feel the pain of his loss, but they can recover. The dead cannot.”
“You still haven’t told me what you did to him.”
“Is it not obvious? I helped him move on.”
It took me a moment to catch on to what he meant, but when I did my eyes widened in surprise.
“You- But how?”
He snorted airlessly. “Like I said, I helped him remember, and with that I helped him move on. He’d spent his afterlife so sure his family was suspended in an eternal prison between life and death. It drove him mad, and he was hardly lucid by the time I was killed. By unearthing his lost memories, I managed to reassure him that his family was alive and well, and that the Crystal Empire was under the rule of somepony else.”
“And he just believed you?”
“Enough of this!” He bellowed, stamping his hoof with enough force to make sound. I jolted back with a squeak, “I have answered your question, and given more than enough details on what was done. Change the subject, or leave.”
He staggered back with a breathless gasp after this, his eyes growing dimmer as he brought a hoof to his head. I was slow to respond, terrified by his outburst, but I still stepped toward him. He was momentarily confused by my presence.
“King Sombra?”
My voice seemed to snap him back into focus, and he blinked a few times before settling his eyes back on me. He looked tired and unfocused.
“Forgive me,” He said, voice far quieter than it had been moments before, “I’m still not strong enough…”
“Are you okay?” I asked, only realizing right after that such a question was moot to the dead.
“I’ve used up too much energy,” He muttered, shutting his eyes, “I’ll need to rest soon. If you wish to ask anything else, do it quickly.”
At least he was still allowing me to ask questions, though I had to think of a specific one.
“Do you remember me?” I asked.
Sombra tilted his head, reopening his dimming eyes to look down at me confused, “You’ve been in here every night, of course I do.”
I shook my head. “No, before that.”
His head lolled to the other side in thought, blinking a few times as he racked his brain to remember. I quickly grew impatient, worried that his endless thinking would take up the rest of this precious learning time.
“A few years ago, when I was just a filly, I wandered into this room,” I explained. Sombra blinked again. “I saw you behind the Princess’s throne, and asked if you were alright. You attacked me.”
His eyes widened at the accusation, and his head shot up as if in realization. He looked down at me, his confusion still evident as he said, “I do remember somepony in the throne room, but I don’t remember why or who. I just remember being scared and threatened.”
“You were frightened by a filly?”
“Death is not kind to one’s mind, especially not if you’ve suffered a brutal one. Even now, my mind is often foggy, and it takes incredible amounts of energy just to make myself known to you.”
Well, that explained the last time I saw him at least. He must have been drained that night, but after the show he put on that first time, it wasn’t much of a surprise. At that thought, I suddenly found myself wondering if any of the other specters he’d shown me were even real, or illusions he’d conjured himself.
“Are any of the other spirits even real?” I asked suspiciously. Sombra bared his teeth at the question.
“You dare doubt the dead?” He asked, “I can send some of my stronger ones after you tonight, if you need convincing.”
“Absolutely not! I’ve had enough frightening for one lifetime, especially after that first time,” I said, thinking back on the topic of that first meeting, “You gave me nightmares for months, and I worried my poor parents ragged because they couldn’t understand what had happened.”
“Well, I suggest you appreciate what we do for you while you still have the gift of life,” He grinned, “And as much as I’d like to apologize for the nightmares, I’m much too preoccupied with keeping my ‘King of Fear’ title than I am with caring for your feelings.”
“You’re just as horrible in death as you were in life,” I frowned.
“I assure you, I’m much more agreeable now, as long as you’re not one of my killers,” He said, before bringing a hoof back to his head and shutting his eyes for a brief moment. Upon reopening them, they seemed unfocused and distant, “Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to rest. I have much work to do to help my subjects.”
I nodded, turning away to leave before stopping in place. Another question had wormed itself into my mind, and without looking to see if Sombra was still there, I asked, “What are you going to do to help them?”
He laughed, quietly and halfheartedly, his voice distant.
“I’m going to help them move on, of course.”