The beautiful red glow of the sunset over Ponyville was partially obscured as the local pegasi shipped in the fresh supply of rainclouds for the evening’s scheduled shower. Beams of pinkish light shone through the few gaps in the cloud layer, illuminating the town below, as well as the forest surrounding it.
But the beauty of the sunset was lost on Sombra, who squinted as he followed Blueblood and Chrysalis through the woods. “Rrgh… why could we not have travelled during the night? My eyes aren’t used to such bright light,” he growled.
The Voice replied from ahead “If we were to wait for nightfall, we would waste valuable time. And I grow impatient of not having a body of my own.”
“Besides,” Chrysalis added. “With the ponies I have in mind, it’s necessary we find them before sundown, before they get called inside.”
Blueblood glanced at her. “Would you mind actually telling us who this pony is that you have in mind?”
The changeling queen grinned. “Oh, you’ll see soon enough. We’re almost there…“
The quartet of ponies continued on in silence, through the darkening trees of the forest. Chrysalis led the way, with Blueblood walking behind, carrying their Master in the red amulet around his neck. Sombra and Gilda followed up at the rear.
Gilda stepped slightly closer to Sombra, speaking in hushed tones, “Hey, buddy.”
The unicorn glared at her through green and red eyes. “I am not your ‘buddy’, griffon.”
“Okay whatever,” Gilda muttered, rolling her eyes. “Look, I’ll level with ya: I don’t have much of a clue what this is all about, and honestly I don’t really care. As long as I get what that talking ruby promised me, I’ll go along with it, but I do like to know who I’m working with on… whatever it is we’re about to do.”
Sombra continued to stare at the griffon, his face betraying no emotion. “So you wish to know more about me?”
She nodded. “Yeah, like who you are, how you’re involved in all this… speaking of which, it sounds like you know who that Voice is, like you met him before. Just who is he? And what’s this war he keeps muttering about?”
The unicorn thought for a moment before answering. “I am King Sombra, the rightful ruler of the once mighty Crystal Empire. The Voice belongs to my master, a powerful unicorn who was once a great king of these lands.” He paused briefly, his face darkening and his voice turning into a low growl. “Until we were both betrayed, by the very same ponies who now rule as the Princesses.”
“Celestia and Luna? What’d they do?” Gilda asked.
“They resented the power we held, my master and I. So they sought to claim by force what they could not claim by right. They banished me to the Arctic Wastes, overthrew my empire and murdered my master in cold blood.”
Gilda raised a brow. “Really? Huh, that doesn’t really sound like the Princesses to me… Aren’t they supposed to be all peaceful and benevolent and all that stuff?”
The dark-furred unicorn looked away. “There is much about the Princesses that you don’t know. My master and I know them better than anypony.”
When he turned his face back to the griffon, Gilda saw that his frown had softened ever so slightly, and his eyes had a faraway look to them, as if reminiscing on a long-forgotten memory of better times. But before she could enquire further, Chrysalis’ voice rang out from ahead.
“Here we are!”
The four of them gathered at the fringe of the trees, ducking behind a low bush. A simple wooden fence stretched along the edge of the woods, beyond which lay acres of fields filled with corn, wheat and all manner of vegetables. And beyond those in the distance could be seen endless groves of apple trees, all surrounding a large farmstead. And beyond that, the outskirts of Ponyville could be seen.
“Hmm, the town seems to have recovered well since the last time I was here,” the Voice said with some interest.
Blueblood glanced down at the amulet. “What do you mean?”
“Well, by some strange coincidence, I have wound up in Ponyville several times before. The first time, I was taken and used by a travelling magician who sought to use the Amulet’s power for her own gain. She was an ambitious little unicorn with delusions of grandeur, but ultimately pathetic and easily undone. The second time, a curious jeweller found me and studied me. But when she tried to use my power, she could not control it. The magic surge levelled her house and killed her.”
“And then you found me,” Blueblood replied. “Third time’s the charm, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Indeed. So then Chrysalis, what is your plan?” the Voice asked. “Where is this pony?”
Chrysalis peeked her head over the buses, peering out at the farmstead. “Oh, she’s close… she’s very close indeed, I can almost smell her… She’s over at the farmhouse.”
“How can we get over there without being seen?”
Sombra stepped forward. “I can take care of that.”
As his horn erupted into life, crackling and glowing with dark magic, the other three backed away in surprise as Sombra’s body began to lose shape. First his hooves and tail, then his body, and finally his head, all dissolved into a mass of inky blackness, until only his eyes remained, glowing in the middle of the darkness.
“…Huh, so that’s where he gets his name,” Bluelood deadpanned.
Quick as a whip, long black tendrils of shadow reached out from the shadowy mass that was King Sombra. They snaked along the floor, like shadows cast by some unseen monster, until they came into contact with the shadows of his three cohorts. The tendrils yanked back and their shadows came with them, pulled into the dark mass. But as they were pulled along, so were the shadows’ owners. First Blueblood, then Gilda and finally Chrysalis, were yanked forwards through the air and swallowed up by Sombra’s darkness.
The black mass then sunk down into the ground until it was nothing but a literal shadow. To the unsuspecting eye, it could be the shadow of a cloud in the sky. The shadow slid along the ground at breakneck pace, through the fields and into one of the many apple orchards that surrounded the Sweet Apple Acres farmstead.
Taking cover behind another bush, the black mass rose up from the ground again and expelled its occupants on the ground. As they shook their heads or rubbed their dazed eyes, Sombra shrank down and reverted back to his equine form.
“Woah… what a ride,” Gilda muttered feebly, her feathers very much ruffled.
Blueblood brushed his limbs and body off, even though there was very little dirt to be seen. “Yes, well, that was an… interesting experience.”
Sombra gave a rare smile. “Having been turned to shadow by the Princesses has its benefits. So Chrysalis, lead on, where is this pony?”
Before she could answer though, the four ducked down behind the bush as the sound of laughter came from nearby. Peeking her snout through the leaves, Chrysalis pointed to the three fillies who trotted past. “There she is! The one in the middle!”
Blueblood snorted. “A filly?! You brought us all the way out here, and the pony you have in mind was just some little brat from some backwater town?!”
“Quiet, Blueblood!” the Voice whispered frantically. “They’ll hear us! And it matters not who the bearer is at the moment. All that matters is that the wear the Element, and that is all I would need to tap into their magic and regain my body.”
“I dunno,” Gilda muttered, shuffling her claws in the grass. “This does’t really feel… I mean, does it really have to be a kid?”
Chrysalis giggled in a way unbefitting of a creature her size. “Really, Gilda? Foalnapping is where you draw the line? You’re part of a conspiracy to bring down this country’s rulers, it’s not like we can get much worse!”
“Besides, the Amulet will ask her if she accepts the Element. It’s not foalnapping if she comes willingly,” the Voice added.
Blueblood raised a hoof. “Well actually, according to Equestran law-”
“Silence.” Sombra growled. “So, what next?”
Chrysalis beckoned, and the four of them scooted closer together into a huddle. In hushed whispers the Changeling Queen explained her plan. As the huddle broke, the other three could only stare at her in horror.
“So, what do you think?” Chrysalis asked with a faux-innocent grin.
Blueblood gaped at her, his jaw flapping as he struggled to find the words. Gilda’s beak hung open, speechless. Only Sombra wore a face impassive and emotionless.
“It will suffice,” the Voice answered.
“Excellent,” Chrysalis said. “You three can stay here. Sombra, you come with me.”
Sombra nodded, and the pair snuck after the three fillies. Gilda and Blueblood watched them go from behind the bush.
Sombra and Chrysalis hurried across the open yard towards the side of the barn. Hugging the wall, the two followed after the three little fillies, until they reached an old discarded plough and ducked down behind it. Silent and still, they listened to the voices on the other side of the plough.
“Hey Big Mac, can ya help us with these here boards?” called a young voice with a strong country accent.
“Yeah, we got some repairs to do at the clubhouse.” added another voice, much higher and squeakier than the previous.
“Eeyup,” replied an extremely deep voice.
Peering between the steel bars of the massive plough, Sombra could see the three fillies, just on the other side of the yard barely fifteen metres away, by a small shed next to the farmhouse. They seemed to be loading up a small red wagon with wooden planks, paints and all manner of tools. A large red stallion, larger than any he had seen before, was trotting over, apparently lending a helping hoof.
“I can’t get a clear shot from here. That stallion is in the way.” He growled.
Chrysalis tapped a hoof to her chin in thought, before grinning again. “I know just what to do. You wait here, and be ready with that spell. When you hear the words ‘we’re over here, y’all’, do it!”
Sombra nodded silently, and Chrysalis hurried off. As she went round the corner, Sombra could just hear the familiar swishing noise as she teleported. He turned his attention back to the four ponies that were loading up the wagon before him and waited.
With another flash of green magic, Chrysalis found herself once again among the familiar surroundings of the farmstead. She was behind a large building, the farmhouse. As she peeked her head around the corner, she saw the same sight of the three fillies and the stallion loading the wagon, but from the other side. And over by the barn on the other side of the yard, she could see the abandoned plough where her unicorn companion hid.
Showtime, said the little voice in her head. Clearing her throat, she remembered back to her last encounter with Twilight Sparkle and her friends. All she needed was a voice, a little sound-bite of a memory. That was all it took.
“Yep, let’s go! You, big guy, come at me!”
There she is. That mellow, slightly deep country-mare voice. Easy enough to imitate… Just one other…
“Sweetie Belle! We’re here for you!”
And there’s the other one. Delicate, refined, a little bit prissy. Just what I need.
Coughing once more, Chrysalis licked her lips and called out, in a perfect impersonation of Applejack’s southern drawl, “Hey, Big Mac! Rarity’s here, could ya help us out with somethin’?”
She suppressed a giggle as she watched Big Macintosh raise his head as he heard his name, almost like a dog hearing his master’s call.
Quickly putting on Rarity’s refined tones, she called out in a sing-song voice, “Oh Sweetie-Belle, time to go home!”
She could hear the young filly groaning as she heard. “Sorry girls, I guess I gotta go. I’ll see you here, same time tomorrow!”
Sweetie Belle waved as she trotted after Big Macintosh, her friends saying their goodbyes. Chrysalis waited until they were almost around the corner, and then sprinted along the farmhouse wall, ducking behind a rain barrel, just next to the back door of the house.
Sweetie Belle and Big Macintosh came around the corner. “Rarity? Hey Rarity, where’d you go?”
And here we go. “We’re over here, y’all!” Chrysalis shouted in her Applejack voice, as loud as she could. The filly and stallion looked to eachother, a little confused about where exactly their respective sisters were, but shrugged and followed the voice. Chrysalis pulled the door open and rushed inside and out of sight, before teleporting away, to where Blueblood and Gilda waited in the orchard.
“So, did you do it?” Gilda asked.
“Sshh,” Chrysalis shushed her, “Just wait, and listen for the sounds of screaming.”
“We’re over here, y’all!”
A voice thick with a southern drawl called out those words, which echoed through the farm to where Sombra was listening with eager ears.
Hearing the signal, he sprung into action. His horn aglow with purple, green and black bolts of dark magic, he peeked over the top of the plough and took aim at the filly.
“A shame Sweetie Belle had to leave. I was really hopin’ we could get the clubhouse all fixed up fer tomorrow,” Applebloom said as she watched Sweetie Belle and her brother rounding the corner. “How are we supposed to get our cutie-marks in squaredancin’ if we don’t have somewhere to practise?”
Scootaloo shrugged. “It’s no big deal. We can fix up the clubhouse tomorrow morning, and we’ll still have all afternoon to-“
“Ow! Hey, watch where you’re putting that board, Scootaloo!” Applebloom interrupted. “You just jabbed me in the shoulder with that thing.”
Scootaloo frowned as she slid the last board onto the wagon, resting against the wagon. “What are you talking about? I didn’t even touch you with it! Anyways, it was starting to get a bit dark, and to be honest, the woods around the clubhouse can get kinda, y’know, creepy when it’s-”
“AAAGH! Wha-what’s happenin’ to my leg?!”
Scootaloo’s ears pricked up as Applebloom cried out. Leaping over the wagon, her eyes grew wide as she saw Applebloom.
Right at the base of her left foreleg, her yellow fur was fading to a dull yellowish-grey colour. The blotchy grey marks were spreading down right to the hoof, until her entire foreleg was grey. Even as the strange effect began to spread all over her body, the colour of her fur and her mane fading almost to grey, Applebloom raised a forehoof to her horrified eyes. “Scoot! Applebloom wailed. “What’s happenin’?! What is this?!”
“I-I dunno! Just try to stay calm… lemme see what it-“
But as Scootaloo reached out and tried to touch Applebloom’s leg, it cracked and crumbled under the pegasus’ touch.
The young pony screamed in pain as her leg fell to a pile of sand beneath her, and she stumbled to the ground, more of her body crumbling as she hit the ground.
“Applebloom! Oh no, Applebloom, what did I do?!” Scootaloo cried, frantically running back and forth in a panic. “HELP! PLEASE, SOMEPONY HEELLP!”
“Scoo…Scootaloo! Please, oww, it hurts! Please, make it stop!!” Applebloom screamed as her back legs and her tail fell into piles of dust.
“J-just hold on, Applebloom! I’m here, I’m here!” Scootaloo crouched down by her friend, not bothering to hide the tears now streaming down her face. “SOMEPONY HELP US! PLEASE!!” she screamed at the top of her lungs.
“Scoota…loo… I can’t see you!”
The pegasus looked helplessly on as she saw the filly’s eyes slowly fading, turning to fragile balls of orange and white sand. As Applebloom tried to blink, she screamed again as the clumps of sand that were once her eyeballs crumbled and streamed out of her eye sockets in a cloud of dust. Scootaloo fought the urge to vomit as the sand poured around her forehooves.
“P-please Applebloom! I don’t… I don’t know what to do…I don’t know what I did! But I’m sorry, what ever I did I’m sorry! Please, don’t give in!” Scootaloo whimpered, holding onto Applebloom’s remaining forehoof in desperation. “SOMEPONY PLEASE HEEELLLP!!!” she screamed skywards again and again.
“Scoot…”
Scootaloo looked back down asshe heard that faint voice. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she saw Applebloom lying before her, her entire face now faded and cracking. “I’m here Applebloom… I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”
“Scoot…aloo… I-it’s... It’s alr-iuughhh…” But Applebloom could say no more as her voice was choked by pinkish sand that had once been her tongue. Her mouth collapsed. Her ears crumbled. Her cheeks caved in. And last of all, the hoof Scootaloo held crumbled and slipped through her grip.
The little pony stared with eyes wide with shock, pupils shrunk to the size of pinpricks, at what remained.
A vaguely pony-shaped pile of sand. And a little pink hair-ribbon.
“N-no…” she whispered. “No… This… this isn’t possible…” She desperately scooped and scrabbled at the heap of sand before her. “What happened? Wha-what did I do?! No, please, come back…”
But it was no use. The sand simply poured between her hooves, mingling on the ground before her and blowing away in wisps on the wind.
So she did the only thing she could think of.
She screamed.
She screamed long and loud, a scream born of pure anguish and despair. It echoed through the entire Sweet Apple Acres, all the way to Ponyville, where every heart skipped a beat as the heard it. She screamed until her lungs gave out and her throat was sore, before devolving into silent sobbing.
Even as she wept, she failed to notice the tiny, shimmering blue light hovering in the air before her. It was only when it expanded into a bubble surrounding her did she open her eyes. The last thing she saw was Sweetie Belle and Big Macintosh rounding the corner and skidding to a halt as they took in the scene before them. Then, a blinding flash and everything went black.
For what seemed like an eternity, the little filly floated in the darkness, alone, scared and distraught. Then, lighting up the darkness, was that same blue light again. Emerging from the darkness below her, its source was a tiny sapphire, carved in the shape of a vulture.
“Scootaloo.”
She opened her eyes as she heard a voice say her name. It was a voice wholly unfamiliar to the little pegasus. And yet, for some reason, she took some strange comfort in its voice. It seemed soothing, protecting, almost motherly.
“Scootaloo. You have fallen into grief and despair. Despair beyond measure.”
Scootaloo tried to say something, but she was still in shock. Nothing came to mind, and even if she could think of something, her throat was hoarse and painful from her screaming.
“Now now, dry your tears, I am a friend,” the Voice said. “I know your pain. I can sense your sorrow. Your love for your friend ran deeper than even you knew.”
She gaped dumbly at the jewel as it hovered before her.
“Share your grief with me. I can make the hurting stop.”
Sniffling, she wiped her tearstreaked cheeks with a forehoof. “…Really?”
“Yes, I can,” the Voice replied. “Accept me, and I can help make the pain go away.”
“Y-you can?”
“No more hurting. No more pain. No more sorrow,” it said, as it hovered ever closer to Scootaloo. “Will you accept my offer?”
Swallowing painfully, Scootaloo nodded, still very much dazed by her experience. Reaching out to the sapphire, it moved closer in, until it touched her outstretched hoof. It felt warm.
It passed by her hoof, until it touched her chest. Bands of iron expanded from the jewel, wrapping around her neck like a gentle embrace. They connected at the back with a clasp, and the jewel began to glow stronger and stronger, until the blue light was blinding.
Bearer of the Element of Despair: Found.
As the light dimmed, Scootaloo opened her eyes once more, to find herself in an unfamiliar grove of trees. She looked around and saw the high walls and white towers of Canterlot not too far away. And all around her, among the trees, were others. A few she recognised, but may she did not. Even as one of them stepped out of the shadows, revealing herself as the Queen of the Changelings, the very one who kidnapped her and her friends, she could not bring herself to react. Somehow, all emotion or thought seemed… exhausting.
“Who… who are you?” Scootaloo asked, her voice still hoarse.
Chrysalis smiled what was most likely an attempt at a warm, motherly smile. Any of the others in the grove at the time would attest that it was even more terrifying than her malicious, evil grin. “We’re your new friends, little one. Don’t be afraid.”
“It is time,” said the Voice, Blueblood’s amulet glowing stronger than ever. The amulets of all five present began to glow fiercely in response. “Everypony take a place around the circle, each of you at one point.”
They obeyed, each standing at a point of the pentagram, facing inwards. “Do you know why I chose this spot for this ritual, Blublood?” the Voice asked.
The unicorn pondered the question for a moment, then shrugged. “I dunno … because it was out of the way, well hidden?”
“Not quite,” the Voice replied. “Though it has that added bonus, there is more to it.”
Suddenly before them, the ground in the centre of the circle began to darken, almost as if it was, paradoxically, glowing black. Rather than a lack of light, this seemed to be genuinely emanating solid darkness. Threads of light sprouted from the dark spot on the ground, wriggling through the air like snakes, until each one whipped out and latched onto the jewel in the centre of the amulets. Each of the Bearers felt a tugging sensation from these threads, as they began to bulge and gleam with the colours of their amulets. And from the red jewel around Blueblood’s neck, a white globe of energy emerged, travelling down the thread of light into the centre of the circle, where it was swallowed by the darkness.
Then, as quickly as the glowing lights had appeared, they vanished, snaking back down into the ground. The grove fell silent and dark once more, save for a sound near inaudible. A faint scuffing, scrabbling sound, from the centre of the circle where the darkness had appeared.
“It is where my body lies.”
Then, the ground in the centre gave way as a limb emerged. A bony white hoof, followed by the bones of a forehoof, emerged from the ground, as flesh and skin seemed to grow and spread across it. A second hoof, now fully fleshed out with skin stretching across it, pushed up from the dirt, followed by a head and finally, an entire pony emerged.
It was a grotesque thing. A twisted, curved horn sprouted from his forehead, yellowish-grey like the rest of his body. Or at least, what little of his body could be seen under the tattered faded robes and plates of iron barding that encased his torso. A hood was pulled up over his head, shrouding his head in darkness, save for long locks of thin, grey hair that fell down past his withers and hung before his chest. In lieu of a necklace, he wore a silver crown atop his hood, with a jewel of black obsidian displayed at the front, in the shape of a scorpion, stinger curled low and ready to lash out. From around his eyes, strange wisps of purple shimmered in the night air, not quite flames, not quite smoke, but exactly like those that surrounded Sombra’s eyes.
He opened his eyes, revealing red irises and grey sclera, and grinned.
Sombra bowed low before him, saying in a voice that was nothing short of worship. "Master."
"It is good to be back, my faithful student," the Fallen King replied.
Bearer of the Element of Death: Arisen.