King Sombra, his dark mane flowing, lounged in his throne. Across the room, his ponies--heads shackled with mind-controlling helms--stood at attention. Puddles pooled around some of the Helmed's hooves. He sighed. Although he could control minds--sending clear instructions to fight, defend, or march--mastery over base bodily needs still escaped him. Overcoming that difficulty was an interesting challenge, but one that extensive testing suggested might not be solvable. Ponies were mortal. And mortals were weak creatures.
He examined his hooves. Once he had taken over the Crystal Empire, he'd had purpose. He used its populace to manufacture weapons and helms. Equestria had been unable to withstand him. Celestia had bowed and been helmed and shackled. She rotted in his dungeons.
Celestia's sister had been a feisty one. She led a resistance, and she menaced his dreams until she forgot that although she had mastery over the night--he was master over the shadows of darkness itself. It wasn't long before he'd affixed a bit and stirrups of darkness to her side and rode her to her death--she'd tried to take him with her. A pity. He'd only intended to break her. She had nearly been his equal. Many long nights, he reflected how he could have loved her. If only she'd seen things the same.
Warm feelings evaporated with a warm summer breeze through the windows of the room, and he snarled. All he had left were slaves and "yes-mares." So many simpering "yes-mares" wanting to clutch on to his strong, cold darkness for protection. His magic, though impressive, could not support helms for every pony, so simpering supplicants were permitted. They managed trivialities and cared for the bodily needs of his helmed guard, feeding them through the slits in their helms, carting away their waste and so-on and so-forth.
King Sombra had conquered the world, but he had nopony to share it with. His last partner, Radiant Hope, had died centuries ago, before even the Crystal Empire and he had been occluded. He had foolishly thrown her aside even though there had been benefits to having a near-equal with whom to share the delights of power. He longed for someone like her who could challenge him intellectually. The yes-mares always let him win at crossed words and competitive maredoku. And not just win... he annihilated them. He'd taken to executing ponies who performed atrociously and had placed their empty heads on display. But the quality of his challengers had barely improved.
There had been but one who could match his wit: a pegasus. Cozy Glow, he recalled her name. She beat him soundly at chess--that should have been expected, given her cutie mark was that of a rook. But Cozy Glow was not around any more. She used an opportunity to remove his phylactery collar. But it was a false phylactery, not holding the part of his soul that helped him re-form. He had not intended to slay her, but she was so vicious and turned when she should have twisted and his restraint had a stronger effect on her emaciated body than it would have had on a healthier pony. On a whim, he had a statue-topped tomb constructed in her honor and he gave a speech to ponies to implore them to "Strive for the brilliance of Cozy Glow, with the loyalty of the Helmed! That is the way to enrich and encourage your LORD KING SOMBRA." He'd finished her memorial with a tiny epitaph bearing her favorite phrase: "Golly!"
"Golly, indeed. What did it mean?" He pondered the neologism and regretted he had never asked its meaning. Then, a pony came to him bearing news of the hinterlands.
"It is said, great and powerful King Sombra, that there is a pony, claiming to be 'Great and Powerful,' who has been traveling through your territories, crafting strange magical displays and bringing flame to the heavens. When confronted by guardsmares bearing warning to express proper humility and to not use magic except that which is permitted by the King, she guffawed and blew a raspberry--literally--a raspberry exploded against one of the guardsmares' faces. Then, four doves flew from her cape and eliminated on the Guard in a pelting barrage. After that, she threw a flashbang and disappeared, covering the coughing Guard with glitter."
King Sombra leaned forward, a frown upon his visage. "Glitter? Like a clown?"
"Yes," the pony agreed.
"I once enjoyed clowns," Sombra said.
"The last professional clown was executed after the Uprising, along with all other performing--"
Sombra glared, "Bring me this clown."
"Indeed, my liege." The pony bowed and, simpering, backed out of the throne room.
King Sombra, while stretching and exercising, mulled over the story of the arrogant pony. A smile twisted at the edges of his snout.
Later, a menagerie of mares waxed King Sombra's chiseled figure, cooing over him. He had what most stallions would consider a joyous time, but he found his mind wandering to the upcoming challenge. And he slumbered with that on his mind.
Once his contingency spell informed his helmed guards he had drifted off, as instructed, the guards removed the mares. Then, he was safe and alone, as he was every night.
"Dance for me, ponies!" Sombra laughed as his nerve-wracked subjects danced. One stumbled and fell, and he guffawed. The unicorn stumbled to his hooves and resumed dancing.
"Bump him again!" Sombra ordered.
The other dancers complied, and the stallion went sprawling.
The routine was repeated several times. The stallion, laying on the ground, fixed an angry eye at Sombra and ignited his horn. Sombra's anti-magic field flared into being. The stallion's magic snuffed out and he hung his head. Several mares kicked him unconscious.
Then, that entertainment was done, Sombra was bored, and Sombra's guard captain entered. "My liege," he said, "The rebellious mare has been apprehended."
With a smile, Sombra ordered, "Ready the helmet!"
Prodded and poked by pikes, the mare shuffled into the room, objecting, "This is not an appropriate way to treat a pony who voluntarily came here!"
Sombra raised an eyebrow at his guard captain.
"She was apprehended at the front gate.... After presenting herself."
"Very interesting," Sombra affixed the mare with a steady stare. "Who are you, and why do you seek me?"
"Presenting the Great and Powerful Trixie, a wandering magician," she bowed a simpering descent, deeply to the ground. "After being informed you were the iron-hoofed master of these lands, Trixie determined it would be most appropriate to present herself and seek your leave to perform."
"Are you a clown?"
"Celes--By Tartarus, no, King Sombra," Trixie fixed a toothy smile.
"If not a clown, then what do you intend for these 'performances'?" Sombra brought forehooves menacingly together beneath his snout.
"Trixie intends to wow and awe her audiences,"
"Very well, clown," Sombra smirked and gestured for her to demonstrate.
Trixie's left eye twitched, but she smiled and produced a handkerchief. She passed it between her hooves and then one handkerchief became two, then three.
Sombra snorted. "Any unicorn can do that. Who would enjoy such triviality?"
"No," Trixie shook her head. "Trixie is special."
"Not so special without magic!" Sombra activated his anti-magic field.
Trixie smiled, and she repeated the trick.
Sombra's nostrils flared. "How--how could you?"
"It's quite simple." Trixie put away the handkerchiefs and took out a colorful tube, then she placed the tube between her hooves and pulled back and forth. It stretched tight, then loose. She moved her hooves together, sneezed, and she was freed.
"It does look simple," Sombra said.
"Will you try?"
He gestured for her to approach, keeping the edge of the antimagic field between her and him. She passed him the contraption, stepped back, and watched with a grin.
He struggled and strained to remove the contraption from his hooves. The stronger he pulled against it, the more it strained. He twisted and pulled and frowned. "How dare you!" he asserted.
"You are the only one who is taking actions," Trixie said. "You're entrapping yourself."
Sombra's keen hearing picked up on a giggle emanating from somewhere in the crowd. One of the yes-mares was getting uppity. Asserting his strength, he redoubled his efforts, snarling, twisting, pulling, and tugging back and forth. Then, he disintegrated the contraption with a blast from his horn. "It is nothing against my magic."
"True," Trixie smiled. "No pony is a match for 'your' magic. But no pony is able to replicate 'my' magic."
Sombra raised an eyebrow. "I wish to see more of your magic, mare."
"The Great and Powerful Trixie, please."
"I am great and powerful!" Sombra slammed his hooves down on the forelegs of his throne.
Trixie didn't flinch. "And so am I. Of course, you are the most powerful with 'your' type of magic. But I am powerful too."
He stared at her and met her gaze, noting her quivering lower lip. "You are right to fear me, mare. Guards, hold her tonight. Forgo the helm. We will have a private performance tomorrow." Indeed they would, he planned--after he located the uppity yes-mare and ensured she would not dare mock him again.
That night, he lay with his mares and surveyed them, their hides, their attitudes. They were nothing compared to this Trixie.
Before Trixie's demonstration, King Sombra met with his guard captain. "How goes progress with locating the loudmouth?"
"None recognized the voice."
"I would prefer not to punish randomly," King Sombra said. Then, he shook his head, waving away the captain. To an audience chamber of just himself and the helmed, he had Trixie brought before him.
"Now, for your performance, pony," he ordered.
She performed magical tricks--stage magic--for him aplenty. Cards and disappearing-reappearing bits and more. His eyes danced with delight. She sang, and she danced. And he laughed and he clapped.
"Your exertions, without true magic, truly are something I have not seen before, pony."
"The Great and Powerful Trixie is truly unique and accomplished."
"And she will be rewarded. Take this gem."
A guard stood beside her, presenting a necklace with a red gem ring cinched at its center.
"Oh, I couldn't."
"It is required."
She put it on. And her unicorn magic dimmed. She wouldn't be able to cast magic--the gem suppressed those powers.
"Will you have a new performance for me tomorrow?" Sombra asked.
"Of course." Trixie flinched and tugged at the gem. "But, I can do better if I have certain supplies."
"Yes," Sombra's brows knitted. "Provide a list to my captain of the guards. Oh, and, you're sleeping with me tonight."
A gurgling sound came from Trixie's throat. "King Sombra, I beg, not that."
"Why?"
"Because, King Sombra, I need to be well rested to make the show especially great and powerful and befitting of your imposing stature."
King Sombra swelled. "I understand. You lack the endurance of a King."
Trixie hung her head, and prayed a little prayer to Celestia under her breath.
"Very well... 'Great and Powerful' Trixie," he said the words in a mocking lilt. "Slumber in my guest quarters."
At night, King Sombra could not rest. He found his mares distasteful, and he sent them away. And, he brooded about a light-blue hided pony who brought him joy and excitement--and a thrill of rebellious intelligent danger.