//------------------------------// // Act 2: The Great Destroyer // Story: Spare Him His Life // by Ice Star //------------------------------// Princess Luna stood alone on a cliff overlooking the Crystal Empire. Harsh winds blew around her, carrying biting flecks of ice and snow she had grown numb to over the course of the past few days. She wore no scarf or cloak. Her mouth turned downward in her customary frown, though she did not like that was so common for her. The Alicorn mare's blue coat and flowing mane were overshadowed and blotted out by the storm. It was only when one looked closely — provided that they had good eyes — that through the snow they might catch glimpses of jagged black crystals and the orange skies that marked the days here. No mornings had really dawned in years. Each was accompanied by angry black clouds that dumped constant snow on the miserable city. It was as if the enslaved residents needed yet another reminder of their plight. All of this was the perfect atmosphere of hopelessness for a city that might as well be named Agony. Luna was almost surprised to find out that the nights were clear here. They were cold, but normal compared to the wretched weather of this silent land. The wind howled even louder. Well, it wasn't always silent at night. Only the wind seemed to speak here, and the silent princess lent it her ear. She hardly seemed to breathe, such was the still stance of the goddess. For the past few days, Luna had been under the disguise of a crystal pony stallion who spoke even less than his mute brethren, partly to hide the effeminate voice that she would reveal. Even in the foreign Crystal Empire, a pony who was believed to be too shy or silent slipped from the notice of the herd mortalkind maintained. He faded into the background in all things and lingered only on the fringes as the others suffered in silence under the reign of the tyrant. In all the time Luna had begun her infiltrations, she had only caught sight of him on a stolen grand balcony, whose nature was even more mysterious than the circumstance. But nearly every day, crystal ponies disappeared. Sometimes, these were the slaves. Other times, it was those who lived scavenging in the ruins of their once-great city. While it was normal for ponies to disappear amidst the constant mare-eat-mare inevitability of anarchy that had consumed the city, those deaths were from expected causes. Accidents, starvation, suicide, abandonment of extra mouths, drowning, ponies fighting one another, poisoning, and so forth. The ponies who disappeared all went into the castle — that was what little was known. Either way, neither of those slaves or skeletons of citizens ever made it out. Oftentimes, one of the ponies amid the ruins would find the eviscerated and brutalized remains of those they once considered kin, and they were always found with one of the most popular tools of butchery — dark gray-black crystals only one creature could produce. Luna wouldn't have been able to help even if she wanted to—not without a home-field advantage and proper intelligence on her foe. Otherwise, she would not be able to save the maximum amount of crystal ponies behind enemy lines. She and Celestia only knew about the previously unknown Empire's struggle because one crystal pony mare escaped this horror. Somehow, she managed to make it to Equestria. There, the United Triarchy's leaders only dismissed her like a mad babbler and directed her to the Everfree's borders, where Luna and Celestia were to take her like she was table scraps. The mare, Golden Mile, struggled to get to even the edge of the forest. She had managed to make it past the foot of Canterhorn Mountain that housed the enchanted city of stone, Canterlote, and stumbled into the plains around the Everfree Forest. Winded, emaciated, and alone, she was found by a patrol of the sisters' personal guards, then brought right into the new Castle of the Two Sisters. Golden Mile pleaded, with a raw throat and more ribs than skin as paranoia and fear burned in her eyes, that the two goddesses—who were previously unaware of the existence and plight of the hidden Crystal Empire—use their vast power to save it. Golden Mile, who had made every hoofstep count, was spent. She collapsed in a guard's forehooves, where she died. Eight years—that's how long this tyrant's reign had been going on. Celestia — everypony's beloved noble — made public decree after decree of how she and her sister would save this land. More than that, Celestia added how they would help incorporate this foreign land into Equestria, as a colony of the Triarchy. The public ate it up. Poor settlers eagerly volunteered their service for when an army would be needed. Only when Celestia pointed out the resources to be reaped did the Triarchy consider the possible conquest to be worthy of their time. The nation's official armies were readied as a third wave, to be used once the Alicorns deposed the tyrant. Luna's hesitant agreement, as with everything else about her was barely spoken, and went entirely unnoticed. In the times when Luna and Celestia wandered the world—and the moon princess still thought of Celestia as her beloved and caring sister—Luna would act as a scout. This was due to her skills and different nature. She was still better at these tasks and in a rare vocalization—and even rarer consideration on the ever-busy Celestia's part—Luna was allowed to elect herself to scout the Empire so they might have knowledge about their enemy. Celestia actually agreed to allow this. A great charm was wrought. Not only would Luna be in the guise of a young, washed-out colored stallion, but all her magic — with the exception of that needed to raise and lower the moon — would be sealed within herself with complex charm few Triarchy archmages could come close to mastering, due to the sheer power they would have to contain. Her magic would return and the seal would break when Luna was ready to release it. The princess had spent three weeks here, in this gods-forsaken tainted land. It was the final day. Her eyes flicked up to the sky, where the muted outlines of mountains stood as somber and stoic as the saddened princess among the snow. Luna felt grounded and trapped as of late. This prison-body was worse than putting a grown mare in an infant filly's gown — to throw the guise of a mortal upon a goddess was hardly different than permitting oneself to be crippled. There was still no sign of Celestia. Surely, the second half of this counter-revolution would be here soon? It had already been six days since she received the message carried in a sunbeam and seared into a pile of kindling before it returned to ashes. It hadn't taken the young princess that long to arrive, and Celestia was already three days behind schedule. She waited for hours. ... There, through the barrages of snowflakes was the hint of radiant white light shining forth and framing the pure-white coat of an angelic, winged being. Princess Celestia entered from that light, her horn aglow with a golden aura and her mane and tail rushing blurs of vibrant and bright color. Her expression was instantly stern as she surveyed her dismal surroundings. When her hooves touched the mountains’ surface, the heat of her magic dissolved the snow under her. Celestia held a tattered sheath in the grip of her magic. Without so much as a glance in her sister's direction, she tossed the object towards Luna. Then, Celestia looked out at the city before them, magenta eyes brimming with concern for all the ponies trapped under the reign of such a foe. Luna's own magic caught the sheath and withdrew a familiar sword of plain silver. She slipped the correct loop on the sheath's harness over her head. It was nice to have something familiar by her side. "I take it that this was just in case?" Luna asked, her voice low. During her time in disguise, Luna had temporarily adopted the singular pronouns of common creatures and mortalkind, as well as the smoother language used by the Crystalline citizens. Their speech was refreshingly reminiscent of the language that Luna and Celestia had grown up using, as much as the elder wished to deny that part of their life. No 'thous' and 'thees’ or other elements of the tribes' twisting, stumbling dialect could compare to the fine tongue of a lost world. Celestia didn't answer her question. "What hast thou learned of the tyrant?" Upon their joint coronations as ornamental Princesses of Equestria, Celestia and Luna had both combined their constant usage of the majestic plural with the common language used by Equestrians. Very rarely did they ever revert to any other speech. Luna ever felt that the downgraded dialect of the Everfree language contributed to her isolation as much as Celestia's insistence on decorum did. Perhaps one day their titles would mean more, and they would get to rule as much as Celestia's effort into polishing their pointless manners implied they did. Until that day came, the Triarchy's grip remained a chokehold on Equestria. "Not much," Luna confessed. "He never appeared. Not where I might have found him. All I know of him is that he is mad, bloodthirsty, and sadistic, with a nature that cannot be predicted. It is said that the wind's howl is nothing more than an effect of his crazed and constant laughter. Yet, from what I do know about him, he appears to have no control over the weather. The constant storms seem to be a result of something else, or a mere side effect to his power, if they are related at all. Nor have I heard any of his fabled laughter." Celestia displayed no visible reaction, but merely uttered, "We see." Her words were obviously reeking disappointment with what she considered to be a lack of adequate knowledge on her sister's part. There was a brief pause between the strangers that had once been family. Yet, only Luna noted this. Her ear flicked tentatively. "What will we do then, Celestia?" She hadn't called her Tia in many years—though for lifetimes Luna had called her nothing else. Another stretch of silence followed until Celestia spoke. When she did, it was closer to the language variant the sisters shared in the earliest days of their youth. "The castle will be stormed, regardless of what little knowledge our sister managed to collect. This tyrant may be in power, but he is just one mere mortal in the face of two goddesses delivering righteous judgment. We may lack a fully formulated strategy and knowledge of his strange magic, but he shall fall despite these shortcomings, as all evil must. We pray that you understand this, Luna. The cruelty that goes under the name of King Sombra will fall because there is no good in him. He is the opposite end of ourselves on the scale. Our battle is the perfect measurement of the two absolutes. He is completely corrupt; he gets no forgiveness or mercy, for he deserves none. Evil is what lurks in the darkness and refuses, nay, denies the inevitable right that is the light so very much like that of our sun, if not exactly so. In the name of Equestria We, Celestia, vow that the innocents will be freed and see the sun once more." Celestia finished this speech with a grand flourish of her hoof as her gaze towards the tainted city never once ceased. She thought only of the kindness that would be given to these oppressed souls when they discovered the charity Equestria would offer them. In no time at all, these Crystalline citizens would find themselves under the stable hooves of the Triarchy. Luna stood aghast as her own gaze met the contemplative Celestia—who did not notice. How could somepony who had once been so dear to her say—no, think such a thing?! There was no honesty in those words. Would she really continue to align herself with those that disgraced and shunned Luna and made her blood boil? The snow stirred one last time as the two Alicorns took off into the skies. Their powerful wings dwarfed the effects of the storm. Both sisters headed towards the malicious and twisted crystal edifice that loomed in what was once a great city. ... Princess Celestia had few thoughts as the cold air hit her face and her lashes batted her eyes free of snow. The few that she did were visions of success and the smiling faces of crystal ponies. Their eyes were all tinged with joyous and grateful tears in her fantasies. Perhaps they would sing ballads. Really, anything cheerful that would get rid of this unbearable silence would be wondrous. After all, she was Celestia, Princess of Equestria, Goddess of the Sun, and immortal champion of ponykind. Goddess… Immortal… After centuries of innocence, she finally knew their real meaning: duty. There was no good that could come from such otherwise-monstrous capabilities — except to bow to that sense of a greater good. To live for anypony else was the only worthwhile way to spend forever, and Celestia did everything to re-cement that within her mind. The mantra was now so interwoven within her that it might as well be pulsing in tune with her heartbeat. Her sister's thoughts were much different as her forehooves brushed up against clouds. Luna's mighty wings captured the shape of the air, triumphing over the unruly northern winds. She did so soundlessly, while the noisy wing-beats of the mare beside her could not be hushed. Who is it they would end today—and what would they use as their justifications? This was the first real threat they would face alone as mares, and there was so much mystery surrounding him. With Tirek, they had been aided by Scorpan, who warned them of his brutality in advance. The terrible Reaper had been defeated by the two goddesses during adolescence, and they hadn't had to worry about destroying anything. Nothing in the land of the three tribes was sacred or worth protecting. Here, they had to prevent any more ponies from dying or being used as leverage. King Sombra—that was his name. Luna could not stand the thought that she might be bringing death to a total stranger. She needed that certainty before any righteous justice could be carried out, and that could only come through confirmation. Meeting the tyrant and really engaging with King Sombra would surely provide that; nothing was ever as black and white as Celestia wanted it to be, not that anypony else in the world ever cared. What was he like? Was he wrathful, greedy, or something else? Perhaps he was a higher kind of monster—one whose mind was consumed with perverse lusts that led to violence and other sadistic things. Was this the path he chose—or was it one that he strayed to? Does he know regret? What does he think about? Does this king see himself as the villain he is made out to be? Can he comprehend what he has done? Was he made into this? How did he come to where he is today, where hundreds of ponies are dead directly by his hoof alone? She took a quick, sharp breath so as not to disrupt the silence. It was only now that she didn't mind it. Luna flapped her wings harder. She wanted to know who this pony was; he couldn't be just another face. As awful as they were, ordinary ponies did not do such things. Everything about what King Sombra had done was separate from all the tyrants that Luna had known before, and made each one appear no more fearsome than a foal who had yet to be weaned. At least in some respects. As much as Celestia wished to be wishy-washy, what the tribes had done to one another was close enough to genocide—and that was not the only sickness that transpired there. None had gotten to the scale that King Sombra had in such a short amount of time, though. The castle came into view. It was a depressing and overwhelming structure. Every surface was armored with thick layers of smoke-gray crystals that bore no signs of gloss or luster and hid whatever the original shape was. The top was a closed and deadly-looking crown of thorns nopony could hope to bypass. What has happened here... 'tis positively awful, thought Celestia with a rise of burning anger. It looks like more of a prison than the rest of the Empire, Luna observed, unable to look away. As they soared closer, the sisters discovered the gold-wrought balcony. When compared to the rest of the castle, it appeared to be relatively unchanged. What does it look like under all of this? Luna thought. They were close enough now that Celestia had folded her wings and prepared to land. Luna was a few lengths behind her. As soon as she landed, Celestia recoiled in pain as an unnatural red and purple flame scorched her foreleg, leaving bleeding and blistered skin in its wake. Her jaw clenched, and her horn lit up with the same gold aura as before. It smoothed over the marred flesh until it was repaired, even if the coat would take a while to grow back. It wasn't worth worrying about at the moment; she had a much bigger task saddling her. Princess Luna hovered nearby. She lit her own horn up with her natural turquoise magic. Dissatisfied at the resulting amount, she charged her horn up with even more, enough to overwhelm any mortal creature and cause portions of the glow to change to brilliant white—the same color her eyes now glowed with. Their hue was much purer as a result of the sheer power overflow at her disposal. The younger goddess let the blast fly in the form of a many-forked bolt of lightning. This hit the balcony and caused it to shake, Luna’s magic only served to show the now-glowing white outlines of runes that were laid there at an earlier time. The spell caused the runes to glow so intensely Celestia averted her eyes. She was forced to shield them with her oversized wing as they burst into short puffs of smoke, leaving only the golden surface they thought they had seen. Celestia's jaw clenched tighter behind her wing. She had counted on there being traps deeper into the castle, of course. But not pre-laid ones, and with the amount of smoke that was released... The newer the spell, the less smoke her sister's spell would have produced. Luna blinked, making no effort to control the expression of shock she had. She read the spell's results right as well. This particular surprise was only a few days old. Unlike her sister, she was more willing to tolerate an alteration in plans that were made beforehoof. Celestia uncovered her face, revealing a composed expression that contrasted against her sister's currently open display of emotion. Luna's eyes followed the last bit of smoke. Her eyes now looked into the chilling and silent archway that led from the balcony into the prison that this king dwelled in. She knew exactly what this meant. King Sombra is waiting for us, she thought. This magic meant he knew somepony was coming. ... To say the castle was unwelcoming would not suffice. There were no sounds other than the sisters themselves. The unwavering, eerie pressure of the silence kept them mute with the sheer sense of fear its presence carried. It, too, knew they were here. There was hardly any light on the inside, except for a few flickering orbs of the same never-before-seen fire that scorched Celestia. It did not crackle or spark and was quite poor at its job, but perhaps that is what was intended. The only excuse of real light came from all the way outside, from fractured and broken beams that barely made it past the dense layer of clouds. They were lucky enough to be able to see in front of their own hooves. Luna blinked once. She could see at least nine lengths of her leg down the brightest hall, where what were once windows were buried under the chilling grey crystals. Were it nighttime, her eyes would have then been touched by the inborn power that rendered her eyes more felid. Ponies loathed the look of her eyes then—but let them. She could see in the darkest places, and they never would. Such an ability would be a blessing now, Celestia shifted slightly, watching their crooked shadows quiver. "This place is repugnant," she whispered with as much disgust as her words indicated. For another moment in this silent waste, they did not move from the throne room. There, its stolen throne sat emptier and colder than the air itself. There was no tyrant in sight. It was smothered under curtains of darkness. No hoofprints were near it either—only empty halls that extended before them. Each enticed nopony to go deeper into what Celestia found to be a lair befitting the wretched monster that lived here. What could one mortal unicorn possibly do to two immortals, except fall before them? Celestia cleared her throat. Luna's eyes widened at the sound, which seemed to echo forever. They shouldn't be making so much noise... It didn't feel right, especially since they could use this silence to their advantage. What else could such a smothering atmosphere possibly have? "There are two of us," Celestia began. She did not care to speak quietly, even though her eyes shifted through the halls where a foul creature hid from them. "Only one tyrant stalks these corridors." She ended just as simply as she started and looked down at Luna, who knew exactly what her sister was suggesting. It didn't sound like such a good idea to her... not that she would ever be asked for her input. "We will be splitting up. Then it will be easier to track down and slay the abomination that sees fit to walk among fine animals such as ponies and kill them so wantonly. None should have any right to corrupt nature in such an evil process as this. Soon, this city shall be restored to its most good and harmonious state, and its ponies shall be taken in by Our benevolent land." Luna nodded, but didn't look at her sister. Instead, she only watched as Celestia strode off towards a hallway on the left. It was a bit difficult to make out her sister’s defining features as the curtain of shadows rolled over her and the last color of her pastel mane vanished. Luna was alone, and that was alright. She didn't need to light her horn, since her vision in such places was beyond her sister's — a sure sign that Celestia was probably lowering the sun right now. All that gave Luna was the perfect opportunity to bring forth an unscheduled night to better enhance herself. If her sister was going to partake in such heavenly manipulations, Luna could too. While she would rather have a longer chance to bring forth a proper night, she was able to at least guide her most favored possession forth without ever having to look at the horizon. There were three hallways that remained. The first was short and turned off in what appeared to be the same direction Celestia had gone. The next was twisted with especially jagged crystals that looked like needles. Last was a hallway with the same crooked crystals. However, they were not needle-like, but instead were cracked, broken, and grown together to form a crumbling barrier to a path where no light shone through. It looked like whoever made it didn't care to do so properly. In fact, it also looked like whoever went down that path — however long ago that may have been — did not wish to be found. And so, Luna chose the hallway she believed would lead to the entity she knew little of... King Sombra. ... Celestia's hooves struck the crystal floors in perfect rhythm. She marched through the once-grand halls in search of where the tyrant could be hiding. Now that the throne room had been discovered empty, she had to work at a stiff and speedy gait that left little time for inspection. The faint glow of her horn guided her onward, but she knew not where she was heading. This castle was a dim world—one she could neither dawdle in nor investigate thoroughly. Not when the lives of ponies were at stake. Potential torture chambers and even greater traps likely desecrated these halls. This monster would meet his fate. She could be sure of that — but where would she meet him? Her mind was not focused on the time, but the possibility of what he could do with it. Each layer of dreadful uncertainty was coming undone within Celestia's head. The nastiness of her worry was a sick feeling that pared each away with a painful, stomach-churning sensation. The monster of a King had set a trap for them. He had known, but how? Was Luna not careful in her undercover conduct? So far Celestia had encountered nothing at all... Unless he was watching her... She came to a halt and looked around, just to be sure she wasn't being trailed. Every bit of this castle looked the same to her: tainted with grotesque, impure magic. Never before had Celestia seen the likes of it. The Crystal Empire was stolen from the mortal ponies that resided in the malicious shadow of the once-bright castle. The ponies here were happy once, and he took that from them. The princess only had one sign of what it had been like before: a particular piece of not-wholly-magic and something rather techy reminiscent of... before the tribes. The world then had such devices as the crystal shard that Celestia had been given—one that, when flooded with the proper amount of magic, revealed spectacular maps and interactive sights. Golden Mile had given it to Celestia using her own bizarre magic, which Celestia had not seen in any other pony race. That feeble magic—one of light and crystals—brought the prism and its holo-spells to life, dazzling a crowd of guards who could not fathom such an advanced trinket. Worst of all of this was that King Sombra had done the unforgivable: he had killed without reason and hurt those that could not protect themselves. He had stolen the most precious gift a creature could have: their own life. Celestia scowled, which was a rarity to see on her—something she preferred to go unwitnessed. With the new, yet slow-growing renaissance under the aid of Alicorn influence, schools were starting to improve. Magics and other kinds of knowledge were being rediscovered and crafted anew. All of this was happening for the first time in over a millennium. Even if these mortals — along with the Two Royal Sisters, to some degree — had no definite idea of all they had lost, the latter pair understood where such investments could lead. One of those things that were in the realm of 'could-be' was especially horrid, lingering in the tallest of tales and fringes of possible potential of magical power. The mere chance of this was enough to spark outrage in Celestia. Magic life. Nopony currently alive knew how to create it—thank goodness—but it changed nothing. Magic life was the idea that somepony could create an entire flesh and blood creature out of magic. Unlike any phantom-like construct, it would be an independent being with a soul. Celestia shuddered every time she thought of it. It was the perfect word to describe this—which wasn't life or magic at all. It would be beyond a monster: a demon, who forever and always would remain utterly heartless. A kind of imitation of a real creature — and it would hurt every animal it found, much like this tyrant. Thankfully, it was only a possibility. She looked around again, trying to ignore the bothersome cold air. "How can anypony live here?" she whispered, teeth chattering. "They don't ever stay, actually. I kill them." Celestia snapped to attention. The light on her horn grew until she saw the tyrant king at the other end of the high-ceilinged hall. Shadows highlighted the unnatural purple smoke pouring from his eyes and broad white smile. She stared at him—her enemy. What kind of magic was that?! He stepped into the light, as if pining for a dramatic reveal. All his attire was over-the-top,—as if a greedy little child were trying to figure out what royalty looked like—with a helmet-like crown and a ridiculously styled mane that hid his ears. There was also the matter of his horn: it was curved and tipped in red. No pony had a horn with a curve or color like that; what greater sign of his ugly soul did she need than an equally hideous exterior? Even in the ever-dim light, Celestia was able to catch a brief glimpse of what looked like dark circles from lack of sleep under that smoke. Had he been fretting about their arrival? How long had he known?! "It's very nice of you to stop by," he began, talking to her as if they were old friends. She did note that he spoke unlike any royal she had ever known, without a single hint of formality in his tone. That only made more disgust brew within her at his sheer impolite conduct. "I'm sure you don't remember me. But that doesn't matter, since I get to kill you anyway. After all, life is so boring without somepony suffering so violently in front of me. Then, they die afterward, preferably by my hoof. You know, the usual. Just think of it like being able to create your own song. One fit just for your ear—and bringing it to the sweetest possible end." He still acted as if he knew her. Didn't he know she was an everlasting being whom no amount of deaths could conquer? And the way he spoke certainly did sound familiar... But the King wasn't anypony she knew, nor did he resemble anypony she had known. Celestia made it her business to remember important ponies, and he was far from important. To decree that any evil could come close to the word was sickening. She wouldn't need to tell him she was immortal—or anything else. He could die, and she could not, and that was all that mattered. The King would perish in this encounter, and she would not. That was the pure simplicity of their duality — and the outcome Celestia felt was inevitable within her heart. Celestia wanted to see blood, and the King wanted to see the same. How wonderful it was to meet such an agreeable foe. ... The King dodged a blast of light that fired from Celestia's horn with ease. For a moment, the whole corridor-turned-battleground was alight, before darkness resumed. Another ball of light, and rich flames of pure gold headed in the direction of the King with his power-hungry gaze and sadistic smile. It hit the castle instead, fragments of the strange crystal raining down below, dripping downward, but never shattering. Celestia was confused. She'd wiped out the first Everfree castle of their parents with much less force, and now this crystal only crumbles?! This crystal—which seems to come from nowhere, can be controlled so easily, and covers everything—somehow attempted to defy its nature. How was it resisting the power of a literal goddess? "Do you want to know how I got my new name?" he asked quite casually, contrasting with his chilling voice. The King did not even wait a single second for the princess to answer. "I stole it." Thief. "Nopony would fear me if I used my given name. I had a new start, and I needed a new name with all this ruin. Sombra just came from nothing! It didn't use to mean anything. Now, it has the same meaning as—" Her grim expression twitched. How dare he try to make idle chat like this! Why did he act as if he were fit to even live in the same world as her? "MURDERER!" she screeched, the Royal Voice echoing throughout the length of the corridor. The King saw this, smiling wider. She saw his teeth shift into fangs — something only a monster could possess. "Why, yes, I am! I enjoy it very much, since it pays so well. I could just do this... well..." He bared his fangs even more menacingly, like they could drip poison."...I guess forever, since nothing else could be enough." He teleported farther down the hall, until all Celestia could see were those glowing eyes of his. The glint of that smile managed to bite into her despite the distance, sending a chill shooting down her spine. She hated that smile almost as much as one who took lives as cheerfully as he did. He didn't deserve to live any longer—or to have lived in the first place. Admittedly, it was a little late for that, and this so-called King most definitely did not deserve an extended fight. From here on out, things would be very brief as she purged the false King from the world. Only then could the empire of crystals be claimed for the Triarchy; it had to be free of darkness to be swallowed by the light of the harmonious southern kingdom. Celestia's eyes were shining even brighter than her horn, showing a furious white glow obscuring her irises and pupils. The edges of her mane no longer waved recognizably, but were like a roaring fire. Steam emitted from the ground as she stood. Each color of her mane was tinted with a gold sheen that curled through the typically soft pastel with a molten-fierce hue. The room around them was no longer blanketed in shadows, instead consumed by an orb of orange-gold light — Celestia's vicious, smoldering magic. More than that, her magic was so strong that it physically manifested as an excess of her godly powers — and was causing the dark-hued crystals to gradually flake away. Oh, had this been any other mortal's domain… Celestia charged after him, bounding down the halls with long, quick strides, running faster and faster. She didn't know that she was using more magic than she ever should have channeled. ... Every step the wrathful princess took left hoofprints melted in the outer layer of the dark crystal. She was chasing him now. The King disappeared further into the darkness, never once coming in contact with Celestia's lethal light. Her magic highlighted the difference in this particular hall. Unlike the last one, it was lined with many doors, many of which were currently burned into oblivion. Through this veil of blinding light, she made out the silhouette of the king vanishing behind the next inevitable victim of her divine power. Her righteousness. The room was not spared either. It didn't matter that the original door wasn't going to fit a creature of Celestia's height. The door, along with its frame, didn't exist anymore. Not after having come in contact with the epicenter of the distant-hearted princess' magic. It would have been a spacious reception room under the reign of the previous monarch—whoever they had been. There were other doors leading to neighboring rooms and a closet. Tables and chairs—as personal as chilly wind, and as meaningless as stone weathered beyond any hope of individuality—sat unmoved and covered in dust from nearly a decade. On the table, in the middle of the room — which was a smooth, opaque slab of crystal that was really more of a monolith — the armor-clad hoof of the Enemy rested on the surface. There was only the roar of the magic, which wouldn't be able to sustain itself for much longer. A fireball flew from her horn, whistling through the air with the same anger that resided in the caster. It sailed past the King's broad and toothy smile—the one that was only present when others were in pain. The fireball screamed with golden fury, about to make contact with the face of that grinning tyrant and end him. The gray monolith came up, dust churning in great waves with its flight. It was turned into a shield by one who had even less heart than the inanimate object he used to shield himself. It was there that the fireball landed, ripping apart the cold and abandoned furniture like a hot sledgehammer would tear through a single stick of warmed butter. Chunks of scorched, liquified crystal were sent flying. The tyrant dodged — much to her frustration — escaping without a visible scratch. The few solid remains of the table clattered to the ground, which only intensified the returning silence. Celestia made her next move quickly, leaping over the ruins between them. Her focus was the only way to secure freedom for the crystal ponies. She stretched out one forehoof as she prepared to land as gracefully as possible. Her magic still burned for a mere second longer, utterly overcharged. Then, before her eyes, it flickered out, stunning Celestia so deeply that she misstepped and fell in a clumsy stumble. The King saw this. In that same instance, a door was flung open; Celestia hit her head once and looked back toward that door in a heavy daze. There wasn't anything behind the door. No room of any kind lurked behind it. Only a wall dimly reflecting her wavering, dizzying reflection back at her. She would have had to turn to look away. Celestia didn't—or, rather, she couldn't. The gray gem at the top of the door's frame shot out a blast of magic she knew was the king's — and then, that was all the princess knew. It had her mind. The King withdrew a wicked knife from under his cloak, its thick, serrated edge exactly the tool needed to cut down to bare bones. An odd sound, unbefitting of the image of a warlike tyrant this heartless individual had created, escaped the King. A foalish giggle, loud and edging into a cackle. Celestia sat staring at the wall with a blank look in her eyes. Each was green-tinted with purple smoke wisps streaming out from their sides. She couldn't do anything — and there was nothing more that the King could have ever wanted from anypony—except that helpless, submissive state. Everypony bearing the life of a corpse and scattered before him was greater than the wealth of a whole cornucopia at half-remembered harvest feasts of his youth. He didn't know that she was immortal, that any wound would not kill her — or that, even if he lopped off her head, there would be no finality. Not for a goddess. Her soul would wander, coalesce, and renew the body she had lost just as she would have been before his mutilation. However, anything he did would hurt more than most could comprehend. It would still hurt her, and all the King ever wanted was to hurt others. Nothing existed to trim his words with anything but that singular, raw want. He knew her as well, no matter how much this goddess would deny, deny, deny her past. It wouldn't matter if she didn't remember him — he didn't care. Perhaps she would soon enough— and then things would only delight him further. The King used his magic to hold the knife to her throat, utterly drunk on everything that could be done to dissect a goddess. A single, thin trail of blood coursed thinly down her neck, marring Celestia's smooth, white coat — and she could still feel and know nothing. How precious that even this goddess was no different than each of the mortals he had slaughtered with the exact same tricks and traps. For a brief moment, his smile faltered. No, he couldn't start with slitting her throat. That would end everything too easily; he would never get to see all that could be wrenched around her and eviscerated for nothing but satisfying himself, the King of Kings! It would be no fun; there wouldn't be any screaming! Even when the King had the time to really torment her enough that she regained consciousness, what fun could be had with somepony who did not obey, beg, plead, and descend into losing their mind with every way he threw off whatever shred of restraint he could see in himself? If she was still alive... If I can keep myself from ruining her flesh too much before— He ran the knife — which was really more of a small saw — down to her wings. This blade could cut through bone, and he was using it to ruffle her feathers, of all things! Her wings would be an excellent place to start. Without them, the King would have just so many more ways to maximize her misery and humiliation. All the mixed-blood crystal ponies that bore pegasi heritage had been slaughtered in the days when he first took over. Those had been few and far between, and de-winging them lost its luster, to the point that it became standard procedure in their treatment. Many had died too soon after, while Celestia was a toy he could splinter in a thousand more ways, if the King wished it. She sat, unflinching, utterly unaware of anything beyond her new delusions. There was only a faint look of terror in her eyes—but that too was distant. The door would keep her mind far away for a long time. She wouldn't realize what was happening until it was too late, and he could just snap her back with a pull like a lever — that pull being a knife slipped between her ribs. He didn't realize what was happening until the knife fell to the floor with a modest clatter—and he fell with it. The dark energy vanished from his eyes. He hated this. It rarely happened, but he still hated it. More accurately, he hated him. ... Luna's horn did not flicker, for she had cast no light. It would have been a foolish choice to consider such a decision in the first place. She did not fumble, for she could still see clearly where to place her every step. The atmosphere was not a pleasant one. The moon princess did not mind the cold or dim surroundings, but this castle was a rare exception. Everything she saw was drained of all warmth, and if she had no view of the ground beneath her, she could have sworn that the floor was no more than ice under her bare hooves. Bare... It was not a fit word to describe this place. The only thing bare here was her hooves; her regalia was back in the Everfree Forest since it served no purpose here. Still, this ominous castle made her want to hold her breath in order not to dispel the heavy silence. That was not bare of anything. It felt too heavy with everything instead — too smothering, too sad, and wholly uncomfortable. Luna exhaled slightly and watched her breath form fog. It was really freezing in here, and so desolate. The air was still, but not stale. Even somepony as solitary as her couldn't stand to be here long. Could anypony, really? It was not only as silent as a grave, but if what intelligence she had to go on was true, then it truly was one for many of the crystal ponies. She kept walking. Privately, Luna wondered how long she had been creeping through these halls. All the while, she was trying to avoid any scrapes that would be the result of coming in contact with the many splintered crystals that poked out of every wall. For the most part, they were barren of anything else. Every now and then, she came across the remains of a tapestry. Other times, she saw what was left of its frame was broken, which was also usually askew. Sometimes, the few traces of fabric that did remain were charred beyond recognition. It saddened her to see this, since she knew all too well what it was like to see one’s home destroyed. Sadness aside, Luna couldn't help but feel nervous in this prison. That's exactly what the Crystal Empire's castle was — nothing more than a prison. Did this king realize he was most likely digging his own grave? How could he stand being stuck here for so long? Why did this tyrant live like this when he could surround himself with sumptuous spoils? Was he really so heartless that he couldn't feel the poison of this place? The princess looked up. The hallway was ending soon. There was something else in the end; she could see the start of a larger room. She also saw something else: a flicker of light. A white tinge in a colored blur. Somepony had started up a spell of some kind. Somepony that wasn't her sister. Luna quickly ducked behind a cluster of crystals, then inched along the walls as carefully as possible. It was harder than it seemed due to the unnatural crystals poking out in random places, which created a jagged, maze-like obstacle course for her to navigate. She didn't want to risk using magic right now, in case of there being an enchantment nearby triggered by such an action. Luckily for her, she found a cluster of crystals near the entryway to what she could now see was a rotunda. This, of course, was covered in rough layers of the same dull-gray crystals on which she was poised behind. Unlike any rotunda she knew, there was no light shining down from above. Nor were there any windows that escaped the spread of the harsh, alien crystal. She glimpsed two balconies on higher floors around the rotunda that remained intact. They could prove to be useful later. They were unbearably cold when her coat brushed up against them. Luna shivered and folded her wings even closer to her body. Now she heard the faintest echo of hoofsteps. The king was wearing some kind of metal shoes, perhaps even a full suit of armor — not that it would matter. Luna figured it was safe to refer to the sound's owner by title alone, since nopony else would be in the castle, judging by its state. Even the fire blazing on one of the balconies high above matched the same green-purple hue of the one outside. Everything she had seen thus far indicated that he was maintaining the castle all by himself. She had picked up no rumors of servants while shadowing among the slaves, but much of the temperament and nature of the monster who dwelled in the castle. Judging by what I can hear of the way he walks, he either has not encountered Celestia yet, or has escaped her without injury. While that proves to be unlikely it is not an impossibility. The hoofsteps grew closer. She could safely say that her foe was somewhere under where a skylight might have been. Thus, he was now safe to target. She unfolded her wings and darted out from where she had been waiting. There definitely was a pony standing unmoving in the middle of the floor. He was unusual-looking enough, but she wasn't close enough to make out all of his features. The deep, vibrant red of his cape spilling over his withers was enough of a marker of his station. It stood out against his long black mane and the dimness of the castle in a most spectacular fashion. Not a single shred of doubt remained in Luna's mind that this was King Sombra, and the solidity of how he stood there was a sign he was no mere illusion enchantment. Luna's horn charged with blue magic. While the edges of her sister's aura often burned with a flame-like appearance, Luna's sparked with lightning, growing bright enough to illuminate half of the rotunda. This display was so bright that she could see the blurs of color that were her and the king in the crystalline surface. She dove forward, using her wings to pump her body upward and make her leap toward him more powerful. A metal-clad forehoof reached out and grabbed Luna, whose mind was only set on coordinating her attack as she bounded downward. He was quick for someone so heavily garbed in a scarlet robe and the armor he wore, and the sensation of his grip was frightening and choking. The spell died, although her shock was clear on her face. She was forced to skid to a stop as he grabbed her roughly and pulled her close enough to make direct contact with his crimson gaze. "I do hope you realize I can sense magic. Any stealth you ever attempt is utterly useless against me."