//------------------------------// // Chapter 4: The Dead City // Story: Broken Crystal // by Sylvian //------------------------------// Chapter 4: The Dead City   Smiling brightly as he sits in the shade of one of the many trees in the garden of the Castle of the Two Sisters, Sombra cannot help but feel a deep feeling of peace as he watches his son and daughter play, his wife’s sun streaming down from on high to give their game of tag that little extra bit of energy as they teleport and fly around as only alicorn foals can. Everything had turned out alright, all the adventures, wars, and hardships he had faced in the past, and now he was able to reap the rewards with this small period of peace. “Be careful you two!” A voice comes from behind Sombra, followed by a large white alicorn mare laying down beside Sombra, a pristine white wing settling over his back as she pulls him closer. “But mama!” Sombra’s daughter whines as she teleports behind her brother, “we’re being careful!” “My dear husband,” the mare says, causing Sombra to look up at her face and smiling at the sight of her mischievous pink eyes, “please tell your children to be careful.” “I don’t know, they seem to be doing fine to me, Tia,” Sombra says softly as he leans up and kisses Celestia gently, causing her wings to flutter softly, “and I like where I am right now. Beside the most beautiful mare in the world.” “I like you where you are too,” Celestia retorts with a blush and bright smile, “but they really do need to be careful, we can’t have them getting hurt before our trip to visit your mother.” “You are right my love,” Sombra sighs softly, his lips a hair’s breadth from hers, “as always.”  Kissing her one last time, Sombra rises, and stretches his wings, the light gold primaries fanning out as he groans and shivers at the feeling of his wife’s sun against them.  He then trots off at a quick pace, looking around slowly to find his children have wandered off somewhere, and that he’ll have to track them down now. As he makes his way through the garden, the foliage grows thicker, the air heavier, the sky darker. He pays this no mind, until he hears a scream from nearby, and he breaks into a gallop as some primal part of his brain identifies it as his daughter’s voice. Rounding the corner of a hedgerow, Sombra finds his children backed into a corner by a cloaked figure of flickering shadows.  Charging forward, horn alight, Sombra throws a shield up around his children, watching a spark of hope grow in their eyes as they see their father. Yet even as that hope grows it is extinguished as the figure’s own horn, twisted and blood red, ignites and smashes through the shield to take his children’s lives. And as they scream in anguish, the figure turns to look at Sombra. And Celestia’s husband is horrified to see his own face staring back at him.   The feeling of sunlight drafting across his face, the warmth and faint smell of ozone tickling his nose, causes Sombra to slowly rise from the depths of his dreams. Or perhaps nightmare, if he is being honest with himself. Yet, the feeling of the plush bed, and the soft scent that can only be described as her tickles his nose as well, and puts his mind at ease.  Taking a deep breath of the lingering scent of his love, the pillow and bed he had slept in being the one she had slept in as a filly, he feels his resolve reform and become strong again. He is here for her, and for their future children should they have any.  The fact that her mother was alive and well had boded well in his mind, the stories she had told him while they had sat before her fireplace last night had only reinforced his desire to do what needed to be done. Lady Aurora, once the Goddess of the Dawn of Equus, deserved far more than to languish in this darkened and dead city. Yet, she had refused and rebuked him last night when he had told her his plans, clearly she was not thinking properly after all these years of isolation. It was up to him, then, Sombra decides as he rises from the bed to dawn his armor. Lady Aurora will not help him, give him no shelter beyond this night nor any aid in fighting his foes. His task will be harder for it, but after last night a new determination had taken hold deep within him. He was not only fighting for his home, his people, and his love anymore. Now, his love’s mother needed him to help her be free of this place, even if she would not admit it. His children should know their grandmother, and she should know them. By the time he is shrugging into his cloak, Sombra’s mind is made up, and  he  heads for the door to start on his quest in earnest now that the goal has grown more important. Entering into the hallway, he slows his stride so as to not make noise, but also to look at the time worn paintings and objects that the lady of the house had found valuable enough to keep hanging, even now that the city is dead. In the light of the new day he can see that most of the items remaining uncovered and still on the wall are paintings of her family, or of ponies that Sombra is more than sure are long dead now. There are a few of Star Swirl with a mare Sombra has seen many a time portrayed in stained glass too, and Star Swirl decides when he gets back he’ll ask about Aurora from the old coot. Provided he doesn’t come back with her. A few paintings also portray a tall white alicorn stallion, his piercing red eyes giving him a hard and disciplined look that reminds Sombra of one of his drill instructors. Silently, he hopes he never has to meet him. Going farther down the hall, an open door catches his eye and he pauses a moment to peer inside.  Beyond the doorway is a dark wood room with a faded blue carpet, large floor to ceiling bookshelves and a desk occupy most of the room, along with a large fireplace full of slowly dying embers. In the middle of it all on the carpet is a bed roll big enough for an alicorn of Aurora’s size, the blankets and pillows askew but no alicorn in sight. Why she is sleeping there, in this room and not in a bedroom puzzles Sombra, but is a question he decides to answer later. The rest of the trip to the stairs, and then down it to the first floor of the apartments is uneventful, silent. For a moment Sombra is afraid that Aurora was going to come out of a dark room and haul him back, forcing him to stay in the apartments until he agrees to leave the city. Yet the downstairs is just as devoid of her, no attack from the shadows comes, and by the time he makes it to the large family room he is sure that he has outsmarted the old goddess. He pauses a moment beside the ash filled fireplace, the dying embers glowing weakly within it taunting him with the last warmth he will feel in this city. With one last look to the painting of the happy family, he turns and heads to the door, opens it, and heads down the winding staircase to the ruined main floor of the tower. However, once he gets there, he realizes he had been too quick in believing his luck would hold out, as a large cloaked figure blocks the door to the outside, a disapproving frown on her scarred muzzle. “I had prayed to the Cosmos you would be smarter than this, my little pony,” Aurora says  softly, her voice carrying through the deathly silence of the shroud strewn floor. “But, then, I guess it was too much to ask for a colt such as sure of himself as you are to listen to this old broken Goddess.” “I listened,” Sombra offers as he draws closer, head held high. “I heard your words, and I saw to their heart. You are broken in more than body, Lady Aurora. Your spirit has likewise been torn, and you now lack the will to do what must be done.” “And pray tell, little pony, what must be done?” Aurora asks gently. “So you still intend to stride forth and fight the shadows themselves? Do you believe yourself strong enough to destroy the Umbra? That your pride will not be the death of you?” “It is not pride,” Sombra says, “it is duty, the same as what has bound you here. Duty to my family, as well as yours. I shall not let your daughter, whom I love with all my heart, be threatened by this gathering shadows that you have grown too weak and frail to slay.” “Perhaps you are right,” Aurora whispers softly, “perhaps I have grown weak in my time here. Perhaps  I am no longer able to slay them. But even at my weakest, I am stronger than you, little shadow. I beg of you, do not go out there. Whatever conflict you foresee for the world beyond this city, fighting the Umbra here shall not stop it. This is not the answer you seek.” “Then I shall fail,” Sombra replies, coming to stand before her with a sad look.  “I cannot afford to fail. I must slay them, for my kingdom, my mother, my love. And for you, for now that I have found you, I cannot let my Tia’s mother languish here, alone and with no hope.”’ Sighing softly, Aurora sits down and  lowers her head so that her veiled eyes are level with Sombra’s. “This is not the answer to your vision, and while I am honored to be included in your list of those you must protect, you shall serve no one by dying here. Leave, little one, please. For my daughter’s sake if no one else’s.” “I cannot turn back,” Sombra replies sadly. “Then your path is set, your fate decided,” Aurora whispers, “I shall stand in your way no longer. I only ask you to leave with me something, to ensure your return in victory, or to give my daughter in death.” Thinking a moment, Sombra reaches into a saddlebag and takes out an object wrapped in a sheet. He starts to levitate it towards Aurora, then stops. “You won’t let me leave unless I give you this, will you,” he asks. “No,” “Fine,” he sighs, levitating the object the rest of the way to float between them. He unwraps it to show off a finely crafted golden necklace with a pendant in the shape of the rising sun. “This was going to be my engagement present to your daughter. I was to propose to her, but the vision I had got in the way. If you truly wish to hold onto something to ensure I return to you in victory, then hold onto this.” “And the sheet?” Aurora asks, leaning her head to one side. “It uh…” Sombra says slowly, “it was the bedsheet from our… bed in Mirrormere. It… smells like us, and she gave it to me as a token to remember her by.” Smiling gently, Aurora’s magic takes the sheet and necklace from Sombra’s. “I shall guard this token from your Princess well, young colt, worry not.” “See that you do,” Sombra says gently, “I shall return for them when I claim victory, and inform you that you are now free to return to the world at large.” For a long moment, Aurora is silent, and Sombra starts to walk around her before her voice drifts from beside him, forcing him to pause for a brief moment. “I hope you return, and that someday I might call you my son,” she whispers softly. With nothing more needing to be said, Sombra walks past her and to the door, which swings open in his magic, and over the threshold into the ruined city beyond. Once beyond the walls of the tower and into the city proper, Sombra draws his blade and takes a deep breath. Now he must be on his guard, for danger beyond any he has ever known lurks just beyond his sight and lingers in the shadows of the broken homes and pockmarked streets. Yet for all the danger, the only sounds are his armored hooves upon the snow-covered streets, the beating of his heart and his breathing. The feeling of eyes upon him, though, fills the air louder than any noise, and he cannot help but slowly wonder if Aurora was right. Is he the right stallion to do this? Can he truly face them down? Shaking his head, he tries to imagine the city at its peak. The wondrous and beautiful city he had heard and read about in the books in the library at home. Slowly, he interlays what he imagines over the scenes of death and destruction, his mind's eye playing out scenes of every-day activity in an effort to distract him from the dark eyes staring at him just outside his view. But beyond lessening his anxiety, his attempts to imagine this city as it was helps him to navigate through the landmarks his mother had told him stories about, and slowly he is able to make his way deeper, and deeper, into the city. Before long he comes to the edge of what must have at one point been a beautiful public garden or park in the center of the city, a great structure looming up from the center of it like the bones of some long dead dragon. His first steps into the garden dispel the happy image he had crafted in his mind, as the crunch of the dried leaves and snow force him back to reality. No one had maintained this place in the ages since its fall, and the very ground beneath his hooves feels dead even to his unicorn senses. Resisting the urge to shiver and turn back, Sombra readies his blade and prepares a few spells to defend himself against ambush as he pushes towards the structure. As he does, the shadows around him seem to lengthen, the gnarled shadows of the trees seeming to stretch towards him and he can see flashes of movement all around him. The air fills with a chorus of voices, whispering all at once of promises and threats of his family and of his future. He ignores them, his ears lowering as he grits his teeth to drown out the chattering. And then, he reaches the door, which stands before him open into the dark and dangerous interior, the den of the foe he has come to meet and vanquish. “Come,” the voices all whisper as one. And he does. Prancing in place with barely restrained excitement, Radiant Hope cannot help but look up to the hill she knows her brother will soon be coming over. It had been weeks, a month even, since he had walked out into the frozen wastelands that made up the world to the north of their Empire. The others had given up hope, but not Radiant. Nope, she had held onto it, kept the hope of him returning alive for Amore and Partner, who had missed him terribly. Even Celestia had started to have doubts, but Radiant had kept them at bay for her teacher and friend, telling her that Sombra was going to return without a shadow of a doubt and then they’d be a big happy family again.  And today, her faith had been rewarded. Her brother was coming home. Her reflection is broken by the sound of cheering and a soft nudge from the tall stallion beside her. “Lass, the scouts just crested the hill, yer brother shouldn’t be far behind,” Tartan whispers in his gravel-soft voice. Nodding Radiant stands up on the tips of her hooves, struggling to see up and over the hill from her position at the edge of the city limits. All around her the citizens of the city had gathered, some curious about why she had run to the city limits with a full complement of guards, others brought by word of mouth once word had spread that their Prince would be returning to them. So far, all she can see are the scouts at the top of the hill, their heavy hooded cloaks hiding everything but the tips of their horns as they wait, one looking behind and gesturing to somepony unseen. Then another figure crests the hill, his tattered and worn black cape fluttering in the wind  at the top of the hill, the armor she can see beneath covered in frost and bearing the scars of battle, yet beneath it all she can  see her brother, and her heart fills with joy and warmth at his  appearance. She fights the urge to run forward as he nods to the scouts, clearly saying something at the way they salute him before he starts down from the hill. The urge to run to him grows only stronger with each step, and before he makes it to the city limits Radiant rushes forward. “Brother!” She shouts, eyes alight as she teleports the last few yards. Yet the instant she materlizes before the cloaked form of her brother, Radiant is hit with an intense feeling of unease and nausea. All at once her excitement flees her, and she takes a few steps back as her brother lifts his head slightly, his ashen-grey muzzle splitting into a fanged smile. “Radiant,” Sombra’s voice rumbles out of the monster in front of her, “dear sister, come to welcome me home?” He steps forward, and Radiant steps back. “Do you fear me, sister? You need not, my eyes are open now. I know the truth now.” Continuing the backpedal, Radiant looks to the scouts that escorted her brother, or whatever the spectre before her was, to the Empire from the wastes. Yet, when they look back at her she is horrified to see their eyes shrouded beneath sickly green and purple magic. Turning, she makes a run for it as Sombra starts to laugh behind her, the dark and cruel sound so unlike her brother’s voice, yet still hauntingly familiar. “Tartan!” Radiant shouts, her pace picking up as she starts to hear hooves behind her, “Rally the guard! That is not Sombra!” Even before she reaches the large form of Amore’s personal guard, the stallion is already drawing his blade along with the others, civilians already fleeing towards the safety of the Crystal Sanctum. She passes by Tartan, sparing a glance behind her as the large pony moves into place to block her attackers, who turn out to be the scouts that had found Sombra. The sounds of steel on steel, and ponies crying out in anger and pain, soon fills the air as the scene of battle is quickly swallowed up by the mass of fleeing ponies around Radiant. Yet, right before her vision is blocked she spies Sombra advancing forward, shadows  spilling forth from beneath his cloak. Continuing her frantic pace towards the Sanctuary at the center of the city, Radiant is forced to teleport once or twice to avoid large groups of ponies, or to get around defenders urgently rushing towards the sounds ever nearing of battle. By the time she reaches the edge of the great plaza, she is out of breath and sweating and is forced to take a moment to stop and breathe. As she does, she spares a glance back out towards the edge of the city where Sombra had entered, and is dismayed to see a growing mass of rolling storm clouds steadily inching their way towards the Sanctuary as the cries of panic and battle inch closer beneath them. As soon as she can breath steadily again she makes to move towards the entrance to the Castle, only to find Amore standing tall beside the heart, a deep worried frown on her face. “Amore!” Radiant cries out to her godmother, rushing over and embracing the taller unicorn, “Sombra! He-” “I know,” Amore says softly, “I can feel it… he did not heed the warning, and has returned to us corrupt.” “What do we do?” Radiant asks, tone pleading, “is there any way to save him?” “I do not know it if there is,” Amore says softly, sadly, “Hope may have… but… she is gone, and the Heart is silent.” “What do we do then?” “We stand, and fight,” Amore says softly, releasing the smaller unicorn as her face grows somber, resigned. “We can do nothing more than that. Or,” she says softly, looking to Radiant, “I can do nothing more. You… you can yet avoid the worst.” “What do you mean?” Radiant asks softly, looking up at the Queen of the Crystal Empire with worry. “Go. Flee to Canterlot, warn Celestia and Luna,” Amore states calmly. “Inform your father the worst has come to pass, he must make ready to fight and avoid the same fate for the fledgling kingdom in the south.” “I can’t jus-” Radiant starts. “You can, and you must,” Amore states firmly, “go. I will not lose my son and my god-daughter on the same day, Radiant. Go! Go and warn them. Go and live. Survive.” Radiant shakes her head, but starts to power her horn as the sounds of battle grow closer. As the aura around it grows to its brightest, she hears the dark chuckle of Sombra from the entrance of the courtyard, and right as her teleport spell is at full power she turns and casts one last glance to Sombra. And then she is gone in a deafening peal of thunder and a bright flash of light. Thousands of miles south, in the stately stone throne room of a castle surrounded by wood and thatch houses, she reappears upside down and crashes on the back of her teacher. “Radiant, we didn’- ” Celestia starts, smiling brightly at her student. “Tia!” Radiant shouts, the fatigue of the mana drain her teleport required catching up to her, voice strained as she fights to stay conscious, “The Umbra have returned! Sombra - my brother has failed…” “The Empire has fallen.”