The night was rarely ever restful in the Crystal Empire.
Dark phantoms of the past plagued the crystal ponies with horrific nightmares, and their wild imaginations turned shadows into creeping monsters that stalked them in the street.
For a brief time, these horrific visions had dissipated, hidden by the light of hope that bathed the Empire under Skeletor’s short lived reign. He stood as a monster that chased away the demons. Skeletor slayed nightmares with reassuring words and brought blessings from Faust’s garden that could defend them from their own inner demons. Nearly every imaginary horror would shy away at the thought of their lord, bringing relief to many as they reminded themselves of his power.
Things had not been perfect under Skeletor’s reign, but his promises of prosperity showed great potential for their once amazing Empire. The Crystal Empire was bound to thrive under his guidance, becoming a settlement of kingdoms that would grow into a bastion of love that would never falter under the powerful storms of the Frozen North.
Strike Iron, a brown coated mare who had been saved by Skeletor’s wisdom, had chosen to devote herself to following Faust’s favorite champion, joining a group of like-minded ponies who had called themselves by Skeletor’s original name and greatest feat, The Skull Torn.
Ever since Skeletor’s throne was stolen from him, the Empire had greatly declined. Ponies were wrought with mistrust and worry, Skeletor’s medicine was ripped from their hooves, and their true lord had barely been seen outside of the castle.
To make matters worse, the raging storm of nightmares that had been momentarily quelled under Skeletor’s reign had returned with a horrific vengeance.
Despite the reassurances of Lord Skeletor and the two false monarchs claiming that the Princesses survived their last encounter with Sombra, nopony had claimed to see the dream dweller chase away their nightmares. The Diarchs of Dream Valley had either perished at Sombra’s hooves, or they had abandoned them.
Hope for the princesses’ return had died a little more each night, feeding the nightmares that plagued them and giving them fuel to grow.
For a time, some ponies believed that Skeletor’s miracle concoction could prevent those twisted nightmares from taking shape. But, ever since the appointment of the false alicorn and her whorse, their nightmares had grown darker and more gruesome.
Even Strike Iron was cursed with visions of terrible sights, forced to watch as the Crystal Heart was wrapped in chains with Skeletor’s limp body hugging the ground. She heard Dilly Dally and her family cry out in pain, tasted the blood of ponies she was forced to hurt, and smelled the all too familiar stench of death rising into the air. It was as if their nightmares had become true monsters, desperate to feed on their pain with each passing night.
For those who couldn’t sleep well and needed reassurances that they were still free, they would take a quick trot to the Crystal Castle’s plaza to gaze upon the Crystal Heart in the glowing moonlight. And for Strike Iron, a fast trot to the plaza was exactly what she needed to forget about her horrifying dreams.
The brown coated mare blended in well to the darkness, barely going noticed by anypony who had ventured outside late into the night or the restless souls who glanced through their windows.
The Crystal Empire was a much different place in the embrace of the night. Lanterns were sparse in the kingdom, and often reserved for only the guards that went on patrols to save on supplies, so anypony outside of the new regime had to stumble blindly in the darkness if they wished to travel in the moon’s glow.
It rarely pierced through the clouds that hung over the Empire, only coming through on rare peaceful nights where the swelling storm would sleep. Unfortunately, the storm outside was just as restless as Strike Iron, hitting the barrier with a harsh gale that quietly roared through the dense shield.
With only the light of the Crystal Castle acting as her guide, Strike Iron slowly trotted through the city to reach the towering fortress. In the begining of Skeletor’s rule, the plaza beneath the castle would be bustling with restless souls, each one wandering back to the Crystal Heart to make sure it was still there.
As days became weeks, more and more ponies had begun to sleep well without returning to the Crystal Heart, saving their self-reassurances for when the sun rose the next day. There was no need to brave the darkness to confirm what they knew in their hearts.
Most of the previously night-dwelling ponies had returned to their shared homes from then on, hoping to catch a glimpse of the dark coated princess as they battled their own nightmares. There were still those who sought the comforting glow of the Crystal Heart at night, but they were few in number compared to the crowds that would gather in the morning's light.
Strike Iron didn’t expect to find many ponies at the castle’s plaza, and she had been proven right when she finally reached the home of her lord. Most mares and stallions were still sleeping in their beds, or whatever pile of cloth or hay they could find. She would have been one of those mares too if it weren’t for an argument with Dilly Dally.
Another fight with the mare she was destined to be with, another test given to her by Faust to prove her devotion to their relationship.
Skeletor, the champion sent by Faust to save the Empire, had taken one look at them and deemed their relationship pure, a shining example of love and devotion. He spoke of brave acts that she couldn’t recall, a sacrifice that she had offered without hesitation, a desperate plea that had proven to her lord that she loved Dilly Dally.
Neither mare had remembered those moments, and while Dilly Dally had the audacity to claim that Lord Skeletor had deceived his subjects, Strike Iron knew the truth. The moment they were judged had been wiped from their memories, scattered to the wind before they passed through his breath.
There was no doubt in her mind that Lord Skeletor spoke the truth and that her mind had fed her lies. But Dilly Dally believed in the false memories. She would always argue that her mind held the truth and that Skeletor’s words were laced with sweet lies that day.
It was unimaginable. Who were they to claim that their memories weren’t tainted when one of Faust’s heralds had said as much? To question Lord Skeletor was to question Faust herself, and humoring such an idea was the same as defying the blessing he imparted on them.
It was a test of their faith, will, and love, a test that Strike Iron would make sure they both passed. She would just need to convince Dilly Dally of the truth, and they would both be able to receive their lord’s approval.
With those thoughts in mind, Strike Iron had decided to pray at the Crystal Heart, hoping to reignite the love between herself and Dilly so that they could live in eternal bliss.
Come the next day, they would move past their dispute and Strike Iron would endeavor to make their relationship perfect. At least, that was what she had hoped to pray for at the Crystal Heart.
All of her thoughts and prayers vanished when she finally came close enough to witness an unimaginable horror. The free-floating artifact was encased in a steel cage that towered over any guard, locked behind the mythical ore that Lord Skeletor imparted to the Empire. His beautiful gift had been twisted into something malicious and sickening.
Terror wrapped around her soul as she silently quivered in fear, gazing at a nightmare that had crawled into the waking world. The Heart still spun on its pedestal, weakly pulsing with the love of every crystal pony, but it suddenly appeared frailer behind the tall bars.
Tears fell from her eyes as her breath became shallower. Panic raced through her mind as she stared at the mockery of their hopes and beliefs. It was torment given shape, a morbid display of power that made her stomach turn.
Her eyes searched desperately for an answer to her waking nightmare. Relief quickly flooded her senses for a moment when she saw the guards standing nearby. She raced over to the green coated stallion in Skeletor’s steel armor.
“Hey, what’s going on! What happened to the Heart?” She asked in a panic, only to receive cold silence in reply.
She yelled, plead, and begged with the stallion after that, but each cry fell on deaf ears as the two guards stared ahead with lifeless eyes. It was as if she was speaking to a living statue.
Fear encircled her heart as she looked back at the other frozen guard, with thoughts racing so fast that they outpaced her rapid heartbeat. The dead eyes of the guard finally fell on her when she took a step back, staring into her with a familiar contempt that judged her very existence.
She had seen that gaze in her nightmares, from a dark stallion who sat on a throne of obsidian. Her ears began to ring as the pending of her heart became too much for her to bare.
In an instant, her hooves quickly carried her away from the castle as she fought against the haunting memories of her past. And in between the panicked and fear-filled thoughts that flew through her mind, a small resolve gradually grew as she galloped through the streets.
The Skull Torn would not stand idly by and allow their Heart to be taken again by some tyrant.
Fear had slowly crept through the Empire like a fog. Righteous anger and terror filled their hearts, each born of a desire to protect their home.
A well-intentioned deed had sparked off the beginning of a riot, one that would go down in the Empire’s history as one of the Empire’s darkest hours.
Although the ponies hadn’t called out for blood with their voices, their emotions were nearly suffocating, like a toxic cloud of despair that couldn’t be ignored. Whispers of rumors went unheard by the crown, but their unrestful fury had been enough to pull Cadence from her pleasant dreams.
An overwhelming flood of their unified horror had crashed into her, causing her to awake with a startled cry as their fear took shape.
The guards outside her chamber were quick to leap to her aid, galloping into the room as Shining Armor instinctively raised a shield over himself and his wife. Cadence could faintly here her husband calling out to her, but it was drowned out by her own heartbeat and the deafening ringing in her ears.
The onslaught of negative emotions directed solely at her had been too much of a strain on her body and mind. Tears freely rolled down her face as her vision grew hazy, and repetitive bob of her head felt nauseating as quick and strained breaths desperately filled her lungs.
Her own panic became too much to bear, forcing her to blindly stumble out of bed and race to the edge of the shield. Her hooves pressed against the barrier as she tried to beg for air, each cry only coming off as an incoherent mumble as her breaths drew shorter.
She didn’t know what was happening, but she needed to breath. She would have torn down the entire castle just for a hint of fresh air. She needed space, she needed to escape, she needed to get out.
With a pop of arcane energy, Cadence teleported to one of the Castle’s balconies, bracing herself against the quartz railing as she drank in the chilling air like a drunk made. She only had a moment of relief before the powerful swell of negative emotions had rammed into her again.
Vomit violently surged from her dry throat as stinging tears began pour from her clenched eyes.
The noxious poison of the Empire’s emotions lingered even after she severed her ties to the emotional spectrum. A phantom of their pain clung to her memories, far too fresh to dispel as she struggled to breath.
She had never felt such pure abhorrence pointed at her before. Back in Canterlot, there were ponies who hated her and felt jealous of her, but they were sprinkled throughout Canterlot and only interacted with her on rare occasions. She had never known pure hatred, had never felt it stain her soul with an overwhelming sense of powerlessness.
Her limbs felt like paper as she limply clung to the railing, resting her neck against the chilling stone as her rapid breaths descended into slow drags of air.
A flash of light was the only thing that gave her any warning of Shining Armor’s arrival before his hooves wrapped around her tightly.
“Something… Something’s wrong… Get.. Help. Get help. Need air, get help. Need air, get help,” she pleaded repeatedly.
“Shhh, shh, it’s okay Cadence, it’s okay,” Shining Consoled as a hoof ran though her mane.
Her head felt lighter, like a ballon filled with helium, and her pounding heart only made everything feel worse as she tried to fight against the swell of emotions running rampant inside of her.
“Need-need help, air and help, get help,” she continued to beg. “Help, help, help.”
Shining Armor only held on tighter as tried to open her eyes, nuzzling her neck for a brief moment before calling out to the guards.
“Get Crux Heart and gather the rest of the guards! Now!” He ordered.
Cadence never noticed the other ponies on the balcony, but it was hardly important to her. The Empire needed her, the Heart needed her.
She didn’t dare to reconnect to the Empire’s emotional spectrum, knowing full well what waited for her if she tried.
Bile flew from her throat as the vivid memory of their emotions struck her, rendering her as nothing more than a sniveling mess in a heavy crown. Wisps of magic weaved around her, wiping the hot tears from her eyes as Shining turned her around to hug her fully, whispering reassuring lies about how everything would be fine.
She could only quietly sob as she melted into his embrace. Cadence listened to the rhythmic beat of Shinning’s heart through his neck, as her own heart steadily returned to a normal pace.
She felt tempted to pass out in his forelegs, to leave the waking world and retreat to the corners of her mind to hide away from her problems, to crawl under her bed and let a pair of real princesses fix her problems.
Soon, as her eye lids slowly began to grow heavier, she began being mocked or comforted by a loose memory of Skeletor’s own words as she struggled to remain awake.
“I’m afraid, your highness…”
The dawn of a great calamity grew closer by the minute.
There was a festering rage inside the crystal ponies, a deep-seated feeling of rage towards the king that had laid dormant in their minds. And, unbeknownst to Skeletor, he had awoken their wrath and given them a target.
The princess had been paralyzed by dread while the ponies embraced their fury, using it as a shield to stave off their fear as they prepared to dethrone the alleged tyrant.
Skeletor’s greatest nightmare had become a horrifying reality, he had earned their undivided outrage, but it had all been misplaced onto Cadence’s shoulders.
Skeletor, still completely oblivious to the horror that waited on the horizon, slept peacefully in his bed as his shadow snuck away from her post to join the other thestral guards. He dreamt of a life without turmoil, of a family that was alien but familiar.
He didn’t care to question the fantasy of his dream, simply enjoying his time with the friendly strangers he called family.
Unfortunately, he was gently guided away from his pleasant dreams when a faint voice called out his name. The soft whisper was melodious, dancing on a tune of syllables that sang his name with a warm and welcoming tone.
“Skeletor…. Skeletooor,” the voice called out, riling Skeletor from his sleep as he rose from his bed.
“Wha… Emeral?”
“No, Skeletor,” the enchanting voice said, earning Skeletor’s full attention as he looked up at a painting given life.
Any hints of sleep vanished as his eyeless gaze locked on the large alicorn, chasing away any desire to return to his sheets as he hastily braced himself against the headrest of his bed. She simply stared at him with a coy smile, standing proudly at the foot of his bed as her wings settled at her side. He had only seen the mare in portraits and books, reading her achievements and hearing his subjects sing her praises.
Skeletor’s breath caught in his throat as he stumbled to call out her name, as if it would shatter his opportunity to speak to the mare who had built the Empire. “Pr-princess Amore? Y-you’re the princess?” He fearfully asked.
The mystifying and sincere smile on her face only lasted for a few scant moments before it was suddenly replaced with a devilish grin. It felt so unnatural on her face, a twisted parody that made her look grotesque.
“No.”
Without another word, the alicorn’s bright fur dissolved into a foggy black coat, and the colorful mane danced on an etherial black fire. Her face contorted and folded in on itself, revealing the familiar visage of Sombra’s sickening face. “It’s ‘King,’” he grinned.
Once more, Skeletor felt his breath hitch as Sombra’s spirit smiled with a sadistic glee. “Hello again, demon. It’s been some time since our last—“
The havoc staff quickly flew to Skeletor’s hand without hesitation, allowing him to leap from his bed and fire off a random spell at the stallion. Skeletor didn’t waste a breath as he nearly set the room ablaze with a column of fire, letting it run rampant as it scorched the create and barrels that littered his room.
The repercussions of his magic casting had been forgotten by his rage, allowing him to fully utilize every spell in his limited arsenal to attack Sombra as the specter narrowly avoided his attack.
Skeletor continued his assault, launching blasts of ice and surges of lightning in a vain effort to strike the stallion.
The flurry of spells flew across the room as Sombra slipped out of the room, using the cover of the smoke to leap through the wall and into the hallway outside.
“Sombra! Get back here, you pathetic phantom!” Skeletor roared, summoning a portal to leap into and chase the specter through the castle.
The dead tyrant made no attempts to phase through any of the walls or ceiling, and stayed in perfect view as Skeletor threw any number of random spells him. Fire and lighting soared through the air as the specter flew through the halls, narrowly avoiding Skeletor’s attacks as he kited the old lord through the castle.
“What’s the matter, demon? Can’t you keep up?” Sombra mocked, earning a feral shout from Skeletor as he brought the scepter down like a hammer, swiping at the specter in between blasts of energy that sailed past the ghoul.
There was no grace or finesse in his attacks, only blind anger as he tried to kill the undead king with a barrage of spells and attacks. It was something animalistic, a basic desire to slaughter and maim without any care for grace.
A sinister and mad cackle echoed through the halls as Skeletor chased after his prey, reveling in the thrill of his hunt as his spells grew wilder. Lighting and fire leapt from his scepter, spreading wanton destruction through the halls as the furniture, paintings, and curtains caught fire.
“Nye-Heh-Heh-Heh! I’ll destroy you once and for all, you spineless specter!” Skeletor threatened, following closely behind the fleeing demon as it raced up the stairs.
Without even realizing it, Skeletor’s feet had left the ground as he chased Sombra up the staircases to one of the highest floors.
Skeletor’s flight, much like his spell casting, was unwieldly. He would slam into the walls whenever Sombra chose to make a sudden sharp turn, creating an even worse trail of destruction as Skeletor utilized every spell he had learned.
A bolt of lightning raced through Sombra, causing the shadowy spirit to scatter into the darkness as Skeletor overshot the fleeing phantom. He frantically searched for Sombra, letting his rage reach a boiling point as he screamed out. “Where are you?!”
“Over here, demon!” Sombra mocked, causing Skeletor’s skull to snap towards the royal balcony doors.
It was the same balcony Skeletor had used when speaking to his subjects, the place where he had promised the crystal ponies that Sombra was dead. It wasn’t an egregious lie compared to his other proclamations and promises, but it was still one that Skeletor would seek to quickly rectify.
The dark king smiled as he bled through the two royal doors, sneering at Skeletor as he prepared another spell for the wicked tyrant.
“Face me, you cowardly colt!” Skeletor yelled, blasting the balcony doors off of their hinges as he strode out of the castle.
He was surprisingly greeted by a crowd of cheers as he stalked past the two broken doors, a wave of jubilation going almost unnoticed as he searched for Sombra. Skeletor completely ignored the prince as Shining erected a barrier around himself and Cadence, simply walking past the pair as he leaned over the railing to look down at the crowd.
With no sign of him in the moonlight, Skeletor shoved himself away from the railing and turned to the royal pair. “Where is he?!” He loudly demanded, somehow earning a heavier applause from the crowd as a stallion below called out to them.
“Praise be to your presence, your eminence,” the stallion greeted before turning to address the crowd. Skeletor stared down at the purple pony, barely noticing the blue cloak he and a good number of other ponies were wearing. “Is it not as I claimed?! The Skull Torn has come to save us from the oppression of our false rulers!”
“Please, this is all a misunderstanding!” Cadence pleaded, teleporting outside of Shining Armor’s shelled to raise herself on the railing. “Skeletor, please, explain what happened!”
“See! Even now the usurper is trying to control our lord!” The stallion shouted from below.
Skeletor’s anger had slowly bled away, morphing into confusion as the stallion continued to cry out to the crowd. “Those of you who claimed we spoke lies, see now as the truth is revealed! Our gift from Faust, the Skull Torn from her pleasant pastures, has come to us once again to save us in the face of tyranny and oppression!”
“… What?” He asked dumbly, though it went unheard by the loud zealot below him.
Had he seen Sombra? Where was he? Where did he go? His usually calm demeanor was tossed to the wind as he gripped the railing and glared down at the ponies.
“What did you say!? What did you see!” Skeletor called out to the stallion, continuing to ignore the royal couple as he hastily scanned the crowd.
“We saw it with our own eyes, my lord! The Crystal Heart locked in a cage as most of us slept through the night! I was hesitant to believe the words of my brothers when they came galloping to my door, but I witnessed it! And now, our lord has brought one of them down to us! Praise be to his wisdom!” The stallion cheered, eliciting cries of celebration from the hundreds of gathered ponies behind him.
Skeletor’s jaw slowly began to gape as his intense anger had vanished. Confusion and realization swept over him like a cold breeze, dousing any hints of rage as the ponies below continued to shout and jeer.
“It’s true!” Another voice rang out, one that was strikingly familiar to Skeletor. A mare he had remembered very well stepped out of the crowd, wearing the same cloak to hide her chocolate colored mane and coat. “I called Brother Nearside when I was takin’ a gander outside! Most of the brothers and sisters saw it! We tore it down and even have it, Lord Skeletor!” She yelled.
“Everyone, please remain calm, this is all a misunderstanding. Skeletor was the one to erect the fence around the Heart to protect it,” Shining Armor tried to state, only to earn their ire as the apparent leader of the group pointed an accusatory hoof at him.
“See, even now the royal’s whorse tries to sway us with their lies! But we won’t fall for the words of a false prince! And now, the Skull Torn has come to pass his judgment!” He cheered, eliciting dozens of voices to rise from the crowd. “They took the Skull Torn’s throne, stole the medicine he gifted us, and now they’ve thrown chains around the Crystal Heart when it was most vulnerable! And now, our lord has come to deliver swift justice!”
The crowd cried out in joy as the stallion continued to rant, each word falling on Skeletor’s deaf ears as his anger turned to horror.
“Skel…Help,” Cadence said, her own words coming out hazily as panic began to consume his thoughts.
His blood felt cold as he looked into Cadence’s desperate eyes. They stared deep into his soul with a desperate plea. But for what? An answer? An explanation? To save her from his mistake?
His mistake, his misguided deed, his sins, his name…
His name, something that became easier to call with time, was being chanted below. Not out of fear or anger, but twisted devotion as they demanded justice. They called out for retribution, to watch a royal fall from heaven to be beaten and hanged for his sins.
His intimate nightmare, the one that haunted him most nights when he wore the crown, had become real. The common mares and stallions wanted royal blood to spill, and for onc in his horrible nightmares, it wasn’t his they were crying for.
He held onto his desperation and fear, using them in place of bravery as he tried to speak.
“No…”
He needed to beg with them, plead with them, anything to make them stop.
“No!”
He didn’t want to die.
“Stop!”
He didn’t want his friend to die.
“Stop already!”
He was terrified.
“I did it! I—hhnnn!”
The sound of crystal grinding against stone hit his ears before the chorus of gasps and screams that erupted through the air. His own breath came out as a silent whimper, a desperate gasp that drowned in the sea of noise.
There was something kissing his lower ribs, rubbing against the bone as he breathed. It was cold and wet, running down his leg like a weak faucet.
The voices around him grew louder as he stared down, finding a dark crystal bathed in blood sticking through the left side of his abdomen.
His thoughts, distant as he looked at the blood.
No poetic words or laments, just fear and pain.
The harsh winds of the Frozen North began battering his body. The screams grew louder.
The blood was red. His side was wet. It was cold.
He was staring up at the sky as the barrier fell. There was snow. White blob, white and pink blobs hovering over him, blue, blue, lots of blue. Magic, he knew magic.
Magic touching him, lifting and healing.
Ringing, bells ringing in his ears as his vision grew darker.
Blob was moving a lot, a grey blob suddenly there. More magic, more blue.
The blood was red. His blood was still red, as red as the monster's eyes.
Something forgotten, something evil. It was back. It smiled. He remembered.
Broken hero, imposter, monster. Sword, wrong sword. All wrong.
Staring, red. Body trembling.
Hoof, hoof pressing down.
Mind... slipping away to the darkness.
Peacefully into his nightmares.