A bit earlier that day, Twilights basement.
“Spike, temperature?”
“342 Kelvin. Pressure and colour?”
“One bar and one hundred pascal. Colour begins to shift towards red. Could you please hand me the blue focus crystal? Temperature?”
Spike quickly moved the crystal into Twilight’s line of sight before returning to his spot under the table.
“Here you go Twi. 346 Kelvin, it looks like it is slowing down. 350 Kelvin, 353 Kelvin, yeah, definitely slowing down. Pressure and colour?”
Twilight floated the foci to herself and channeled her magic through it, deactivating the magical sound muffler.
“Thanks. The pressure is dropping to one bar and ninety-six pascal. Colour now nearly completely red. You think this is it?”
“Yeah, I guess so. 356 Kelvin, no longer climbing. Seems like we’ve done it. Now, what the hay is this?”
As they took their googles off, Twilight explained, “Well, you remember those black crystals Sombra used? I wanted to know how they suppress magic, so I decided to create a fluid that–”
“Alright, got it, something I don’t understand,” Spike interrupted. “Now, can I finally- Twi? You look worried, what is it?”
“I- I’m not sure, there is this building tension in the air. Don’t you feel it?”
“No? Maybe it’s magic?”
“Perhaps... But it does- ARGH!”
Suddenly, Twilight held her head in her hooves. A moment later, when the pain disappeared, she took a deep breath. Spike looked at her worriedly.
“Twilight, are you ok? What happened?”
As she shook her head, Twilight answered, “I don’t know. One moment there was this tension building in the air, then there is this flash of magic. Weird. I’ll see if I can find an answer in one of my books.”
With that, she headed up to read all about unnatural bursts of magic she could find, leaving Spike to clean up their experiments.
Somewhere in the southern San Palomino desert.
Tirek hated sand. That stuff got everywhere. If there was one thing he hated even more than not having any magic, it was sand.
And yet, here he was.
“If this turns out to be another dead end, I swear,” he grumbled, before puling out a map to check if he was still going in the right way. Looking up, he noticed that the sun stood to high to pinpoint directions.
“Of course. It seems I’ll have to take a break.”
He looked around and spotted an overhang he could rest under. The moment he laid down, he felt the soreness through his body, only one of the disadvantages of his weakened form.
Once he felt rested and the sun moved enough to show where south is, he got up and moving once again.
“Only a few days before I arrive, if the map is correct. Oh, I so hope it is. Artifact magic isn’t the best, but at least I can drain them if they are useless,” he told himself while he started to, once again, walk through the endless masses of sand.
It was a boring time, alone in the desert. He knew he had to be patient if he wanted another chance at stealing Equestrias magic. Still, he wanted something to happen, if only to disrupt the endless walking.
He didn’t know it yet, but his life would very soon stop being boring.
When he laid down again as the sun settled, he felt something. Magic. It wasn’t much, but it was there, and it grew.
Where does it come from? Eh,doesen’t matter, he thought, Maybe I can drain it if it becomes stronger. Jep, look like it. Just a bit more aaaand there we go.
For about five secounds he drained the magic, before it suddenly became much, much more powerful. Then, the magic, now visible as glowing white tendrils, surrounded him and begun to pull.
It did not pull at his skin or bones, but at his mind, his soul. While there was no pain, it was a weird feeling like being carried around by a strong wind.
He struggled against the hold, but without his magic to help him, it would not let go. He was to weak and drained to fight back any longer, and was immortal as far as he knew anyways, so he gave up and let the magic do whatever it was doing.
The pulling increased and something changed, then the weird sensation stopped. The pulling became weaker and let him slip into unconsciousness, but he could spot a last glimpse of his surroundings. Weirdly enough, it didn’t seem to fit into a desert at all. The last thing he saw was a lot of white.
With that, he left it all behind. Gone was his body, gone was the sand, gone was the desert.
In the frozen north, west of the Crystal Empire.
“This is it. With this plan, victory shall be mine! Muahahaha, ahahahah, AHAHAHAHAH! I will win, WIN I say!”
And as he continued to chuckle like the mad pony he was, he begun his trip towards the empire. His empire.
“They won’t know what hit them, nono they won’t. I’ll break them like they broke me. I’ll use their own strength against them. A dark crystal heart, how glorious, how cruel! Dark crystal...” While saying this, he suddenly stopped walking. A moment later, he broke out into mad laughter, his voice distorted by dark magic. “HAHA, Crystals, ahAHAHaH, cRysTalSSssS!”
For some reason or another, he found that word funny. He himself didn’t know why, he just did. Was it because of a spell? He did not know, but he was sure it was because of a spell.
If I could just think clearly for a moment, he thought, Then- Chrystals! Glimmering, shim- NO! Concentrate! I- Shimmering crystals! Chrystals! Hehe, CrysTalss! cRystAls! CrysTalSS! CRYSTALS!
And he tried to understand, what would he want to think of other than crystals? But he couldn’t, and the insanity returned, driven by the corruption he cursed upon himself, and unhindered by his weak soul.
That is the price one has to pay for using the darkest of arts. The damaged soul and corruption, not insanity. That came later. How’d he known that? Why had it come? He didn’t know.
And so he carried on, towards his empire.
There was another shadow who tried to stop him. It is no longer. There was another monster which tried to stop him. It is no longer. There was an unicorn who tried to stop him. She is no longer. In fact, she’s short of a horn.
I’ve become quite strong. Yes, crystals are strong. Yes, crystals are good. Crystals, heh. Wait, what is this?
He referred to the increasing magic that appeared from the south. He blinked a few times, and then looked east.
It’s not crystal. Crystal, hehe. No, it is not. But strong. Can I use it? No. Can’t use Light. It’s not crystal. Or shadow.
Then, the magic begun to encase him. When the pull appeared, something held him back, didn’t want to let go of his soul. It hurt. It hurt a lot.
What is this magic? It’s not cry- NO! Not now! This is a transfer. What kind? Where will I end up? South... hehe c- Canterlot! Celestia! How did she know? And why does it hurt that much? Ow, ow, owowow, make it stop, MAKE IT STOP!
He summoned his own power, wrapping his forelegs in shadows and creating crystals. He cut the light with his shadows and smashed it with his crystals, but it just came back. Again and again he cut, crashed, ripped, smashed and blocked them, but the tendrils of light kept coming. Finally, they got a good hold on him, once again pulling at his damaged soul.
NO! I won’t lose! I can’t! I am the King of shadows! I am the crystal lord! I won’t lose him! Nonono, I won’t, I WON’T lose myself!”
He fought for controll, but ultimately lost as the pain proved to be too much for him to handle. He blacked out and collapsed into the snow, his magic still raging in blind fury. As the light pulled away, shadows tried to hold it in place, but none were strong enough. One after one, they snapped. When another presence, another mind, eventually appeared the weakened shadows grasped it and pulled it inside.
After everything was over, he just lay there, unmoving. A thin layer of fresh snow settled down on top of him, and after only half an hour he was buried under it.
Like he was never there in the first place.
The Badlands, central hive, Chrysalis personal chamber.
The last few months had been disastrous for the changelings. A lot of them had died after being thrown out of Canterlot, and it became even harder to steal any kind of emotion due to better security and paranoid ponies. Adding to that was the low number of infiltrators the hive had left.
The love reserves of the hive were low, lower than any changeling could remember they’d ever been. But the one who had it the worst was Chrysalis: Suffering from an illness known as “pure love withdrawl” and not having enought emotional energy to properly sustain her body, she couldn’t even leave her bed without collapsing after the first five steps.
“My Queen? Can I get you something, maybe a glass of water?”
“Thank you Cicada, but no. Take care of the other survivors of the attack first.”
“As you wish.” The servant bowed and left the room.
After the door closed, Queen Chrysalis addressed the two mindless drones that quietly stood next to it.
“Drone #2367 and #8465, I have an order for you. Visit the infirmary and drain Scorn of her energy. Her wounds would not heal anymore, she would die either way. Make it painless. Understood?”
The two drones bowed deeply and simply replied, “My Queen.”
“Good. Now go.”
Chrysalis let out a heavy breath. While it was useful that she could feel it when the other changelings were beyond saving, it also hurt. Not because she felt their pain, she didn’t, but because it was a constant reminder of her failure in Canterlot.
She didn’t need that now. If she wanted to have enough energy to plan the future survival of her changelings, she first needed to rest.
“I wonder how much time is left for me,” she later commented, speaking to the empty room.
“Not much, that is sure. Will my changelings be able to survive on their own? Without guidance, without a Queen? It never happened before, so probably not, or at least not the drones, they are just mindless husks. This can’t go on like that. We need a source of love, and we need it fast. We could try Dodge city ...”
Lost in her rambling and thoughts, the changeling queen slowly drifted asleep. Her dreams were not pleasant that day, images of the princesses and royal guard haunting her and her race down. As time went by, the dreams faded and left nothing but a black space, no light, no direction, just darkness.
Huh, she thought, That is a new dream. And it’s an unusual one, having no body but being able to move. Joy.
She explored the darkness, but found nothing. There was only black, no matter how far or fast she went. As she decided to run strait upwards, she felt something coming.
What is this? It feels like... affection? No, not like that. Friendship? Is this part of the dream? Eh, whatever, can’t hurt to take a bit. And when I say “a bit” I mean all of it! Hmm, tasty˜
As she drew the love out of the weird presence, she noticed that it was not only coming closer, but it also became visible, looking like a head-sized ball of light.
Shocked by the appearance of the strange light, she retreated as fast as she could.
What the hay?! What is a light doing in this darkness? And why does it taste like friendship? Wait a secound, blackness, white light... No, it can’t be! That’s not fair! I can’t die now, I still need to prepare my changelings! I still have time left, at least a few months! Why do I have to die now?
But the light didn’t answer or stop, it just came closer, reaching out for her. Thin threads of light begun to stretch out and wrapped themself around her body, refusing to let go.
No, this can’t be! N- Not now! Please, someling, someone, help! Help! Make it stop! Make it stop! I don’t want to die! Please!
She begun to struggle against the hold. She shapeshifted into different sizes and creatures with completely different bodies, only for the threads to adapt and trap her once more. As she saw that it didn’t work, she tried to rip them of or chew trough them, or at the very least not to get pulled away.
Unhindered in the slightest, the light slowly but surely pulled her soul away and dragged her along, leaving her home, kingdom and lifeless body behind.
Canterlot Castle, throne room.
It was a day just like any other. And just like on every day, Celestia sat on her throne and listened to the problems of her ponies. In the last hour, she put a fight between two nobles to rest, denied another one a request for lower taxes, and permitted her favorite bakery to call their cakes “Celestia approved”. All in all, it was a slow day.
As she was talking with her assistant, Raven Inkwell, she felt a disturbance in the thaumic field.
She determined the ripple to have originated from the south and couldn’t help but smile. Twilight Sparkle, she mused, What are you doing?
“Princess?” Inkwell waved a hoof in front of her face. “Are you listening?”
“I am sorry Miss Inkwell,” Celestia replied, “I was thinking about my personal student.”
“Twilight Sparkle?”
“Yes. She has managed to come so far in her studies, just now I felt an magical ripple from Ponyville.”
Raven was speechless for a moment. When she did answer however, her voice was full of surprise. “Over such a distance? But how? She would need to channel raw mana! The knowledge for that has been lost for ages!”
“Yes, she would need to,” Celestia giggled, “But do remember, I am an alicorn and therefore can-”
Suddenly, she stopped talking, so big was her surprise about the strength of the sudden burst of magic that traveled through the thaumic field. Realization of what had happened hit her only a moment later, and she charged her horn.
“Raven, chancel day court. I need to talk to my sister, do not disturb us unless absolutely necessary!”
“But princess, what-”
In a flash of light, Celestia teleported into Lunas private chambers and begun to search for her sister. She found the alicorn of the night standing at the draped windows of her bedchamber, her horn glowing a faint blue.
Without even greeting her sister, Celestia started to speak, panic creeping into her voice, “I have-”
“We know,” Luna stopped her. Unlike her sister, she was calm as could be. “We felt it too. One of them is out there.”