I struggled to maintain my sense of self as the memories poured into my mind, a relentless torrent of sensations and images and thoughts and concepts. My vision doubled, then tripled, then became a confusing haze as I tried to hold on to reality. The others gave a start at my scream, and I tried to call for help, but it seemed lost as if in a tempest. The memories were too much. I felt a surge of pure sensory information, the strength of the memory stripping me away from the present, immersing me in it, washing away my sense of self. 'Oh God' I silently prayed in my panic, 'please don't let it break my mind I don't want to die I don't want to stop being oh God oh God oh–'
***
“The preparations are complete, Your Majesty,” I said, levitating a diagrammed scroll and comparing it to the ley lines and reagents. Months of research, a full year of careful preparation and review, and even longer to get the support I needed had culminated in this day. Several years ago, another unicorn had been monitoring the magical bonds that held Discord entombed in stone. He found that they were steadily weakening. It was slow, but in less than two centuries the demon would break free. Some suggested that the Princesses simply refresh the spell periodically, but I spoke against it; we could not afford to leave everything up to to them, to 'put all our eggs in one basket'. If, Maker forbid, something happened to the elements or one of the Sisters, the bindings would fail in a matter of decades rather than centuries, and Equestia would have to deal with the monster without the aid of the Elements – or, more likely, be plunged once more into the chaotic perdition of his cruel whimsies without any real hope of an end. It was eventually decided that I would seek a more permanent and modular method to keep the spell strong, and I took on the mantle with pride – and, perhaps, a little trepidation.
It didn't take long to realize that it was his inherent Chaos magic that was eroding the spell; I could practically feel the tendrils of his power eating away at it like roots through sandstone. Devising a solution was not so simple, however, but careful study and experimentation revealed an answer – one requiring many different applications of magical binding and Order magic, as well as some research into the more arcane and esoteric arcane fields. But, found it I did. Despite the complexity of the minutia and the difficulty of the implementation, the concept was relatively simple and sound; we would take the natural Order magic of the surrounding area and turn his own chaos against him. The more he fought against it, the more nature itself would bear down on him, tightening his bonds even further, like a Chineighs hooftrap. I had suggested we take it a step further and use the excess Order magic to further erode his Chaos magic, eventually either killing him or transforming his inherent magical nature into that of Order, but the Princesses, for some inexplicable reason, were unwilling to permit that. They told me that I was to keep him entombed in stone, and no more. For the life of me I couldn't imagine why they wouldn't bring that creature to heel – and, besides, it just made sense to have multiple contingency plans for dealing with such a creature. Ah well – they knew what was best, I supposed.
Even if some of their reasons were a mystery, the Princesses needed me to do a job – and I didn't intend to disappoint them. I went over the checklist one more time, scrutinizing every item with a gimlet eye. Everything would be perfect, and while there were multiple levels of safeguards in place I would have preferred not to use them. Satisfied with the list, I finally turned my attention to the group at large. The greatest ponies in Equestria were all gathered for the binding ritual. The most intelligent Unicorns were at the core of the group, the inner circle, and were there to weave and form the enchantment – the purpose and will of the spell. Behind them were an equal number of the most powerful unicorn sorcerers, ready to lend aid in reinforcing the thaumaturgical constructs and, if necessary, take over should their primaries fail. They would, naturally, be giving the spell its strength and fortitude. Around the outskirts were royal guards in specially enchanted armor, which designed to absorb and disperse chaos magic so they could fight Discord directly, if the need arose. Finally, at the outskirts of the circle, observing and overseeing the work, were the two Diarchs of Equestria – silent and watchful, adorned in their elements like armor, grim and severe as befitting the occasion and their station. Only the guards could match their austerity. They were our final line of defense, ready to lend aid in the event of a catastrophic failure. If something went horribly wrong, they would use the Elements to return Discord to his stone prison.
I cleared my throat, addressing the primaries, secondaries, and guards. “Everyone, do one last check over your gear and your part of the binding ritual. I don't want any mistakes, no matter how minor – Equestria depends on you, and we will give them only perfection. If anyone isn't feeling up to this, speak now; it's better to leave now and postpone this for another day than find yourself staring into the eyes of a fully animate – not to mention, insane and royally pissed off – draconequus.” I hoped that no one would step down – it would take another month at least to make the preparations for another attempt – but I wasn't going to break my own rules for the sake of expediency. We had to do it right, or not at all.
Fortunately for me and my state of mind, no one stepped forward. I nodded stiffly, satisfied, and turned to the Princesses. They were there to aid us, but I had no proper authority over them, so I meekly asked, “Are Your Majesties ready, as well? Your presence is absolutely necessary, should something go wrong, and I would be loathe to-”
“No, we are fine. Please proceed,” Princess Luna answered shortly, clearly as impatient as I was. I winced and nodded, crossing off several other items on the checklist, and looked to Celestia. Despite her grimness at the situation, she gave a small smile and nodded. With her blessing, I turned back to the scholars and engineers and cleared my throat.
“Let us begin, then. Charge the reagents and start engaging the runic matrices, just like we practiced.”
We started loosening the magical bindings that kept him in his stone form – only slightly, though. Just enough to slip another enchantment in around him. Fortunately we were prepared for the mental onslaught as his mind was partially freed.
'Oh?' a wry, mocking voice poked around inside my head. The spell weavers frowned, but they were too busy with their own part to give him any heed. The guards, ever wary for an attack, shifted restlessly and looked sharply around the room. The voice continued. 'What's this? It's soooo impolite to just barge in – you should at least have the decency to knock first!'
“Ignore him,” I told the assembled ponies, “he's powerless. He'll say anything to save his wretched hide.” They already knew that, of course – my briefing was thorough, and we'd accounted for the possibility – but it helped to remind them of that. “Focus on your duty.” Even as I said it, I knew there was no need; each face I saw was intent, determined to keep this monster imprisoned forever.
'Duty,' the voice giggled. 'Such a funny word for such a dull concept – and worth just as much as its homophone. You ponies really are amusing creatures, you know? I think I'll keep some of you as pets, once I reclaim what is rightfully mine. You think I can't do anything from here? Why, I already have...'
And then I felt it – tendrils of chaos creeping out from the statue, far stronger than the tolerance parameters allowed. Something was wrong. “Stop! Stop the unbinding, we went too far!” I called out, rushing forward to check what went wrong, trotting around the statue and examining it directly. I found no problems there, no unusual surges of magic from the inside. How could there be a containment breach? We'd monitored him for the past year, and every escape attempt had been examined and plotted out. He was a god of chaos, yes, but even he had some predictability, and his power output within the statue eventually came out to a standard bell curve. But this... this was far outside of anything we'd ever seen from him by several orders of magnitude. It made no sense! Everyone present had gone over the equations multiple times, and each agreed on the amount of power necessary to achieve the unbinding we needed. Why wasn't the unbinding stopping? Why didn't the tendrils of chaos stop? Why didn't-
Someone wasn't stopping.
I stared at the unicorn, still not understanding. “Stop the unbinding!” I shouted – had he lost control of the spell? His secondary stepped forward, perplexed. “Hey, he said stop – do you need help?” the other unicorn asked, reaching a hoof forward. A fraction of a second later, the confused secondary was sent flying backwards as the primary's protective shield shimmered to life.
Then it clicked. It wasn't stopping because he didn't want it to stop. “TRAITOR! HE'S A TRAITOR!” I shouted, even as I tried to sense what the rogue unicorn was doing and how he was protected. Unfortunately, my probing tendrils met a lot of 'static' – the bastard was using chaos magic to disrupt my attempts to 'read' him.
Seeing my frustration and thinking himself victorious, the rogue agent turned and leered at the assembled ponies as he continued undoing the bonds. “The TRUE Lord of Equestria will return!” he cackled, his eyes wild and gleaming with a malignant magic. “BOW TO THE ONCE AND FUTURE KING, WORMS!”
'I LOVE this guy!' the voice chuckled merrily. I ignored it.
The Primaries fled, as per safety protocols, needing no further prompting to teleport or run away. Once they were out of the way, the secondaries cast up a shield around the statue, a shield especially designed to counter Discord's chaos. The guards stood at the ready, weapons leveled, forming a bulwark between the shield and the rest of the assembled ponies. The Sisters stood at the back, getting into position and readying their own potent weapons of Harmony.
All of the fallback procedures were being followed perfectly. The only problem was I was trapped on the inside, and the unicorn was going to break through the bindings before the Sisters could have the Elements ready. In a few short moments, I would be trapped inside a magical shield, at the mercy of the immense power, cruelty, and creative vindictiveness of a mad draconequus. I pushed aside my welling panic – I had to think fast, and panicking would get me absolutely nowhere. Even so, it looked hopeless; there were only a few moments left before he would completely undo the bindings and unleash the God of Chaos upon me, and I hadn't the power to undo his shielding – nor did I know what cantrips that might set off if I did. The stallion had been planning this all along, and he had no doubt planned for a direct assault. I had to find a way around it, somehow, and... Wait.
I examined the flow of magic connecting him to the statue. It was just as inscrutable as his shield, foiling all of my attempts to read it, but it was also Chaos magic. Still, even static could convey information; there was no hole in his shield to allow the threads to pass through. Therefore, the shield was attuned to allow chaos magic to pass through it. I felt a moment's despair – adding MORE chaos to the situation wouldn't help at all, and would almost certainly hasten my end – but I didn't have to add something chaotic to the equation. I just had to find something that was already chaotic to pass through his shields.
I looked around desperately for something chaotic, but the reagents of the spell were all neutral at best. The diabolical bastard had planned for that; of course he knew we wouldn't have anything to use against him, as we'd all be using Order magic! Dammit! If only there was something nearby, something chaotic, something that could pass through his shield...
Something large and heavy made of stone. Right.
Resisting the urge to facehoof for my brief lapse, I concentrated on the statue, surrounding it with a ghostly white glow. The unicorn just cackled. “You think you can hold the God of Chaos in stone? Buffoon! Imbecile! Did your mother bed a Dog, or did you just -erp?”
That was all he could manage before I toppled the statue down upon him. He wasn't killed, no – it landed in such a way that he received a nasty blow to the head, but left enough space underneath so he wasn't crushed or gored. Still, with him unconscious his spells dissipated harmlessly, leaving Discord trapped in stone. He couldn't get out, not quickly at any rate, and we were safe for the moment. What's more, Discord knew it.
'WHAT?!' the voice shrieked, even as I turned my attention to re-binding the enchantment around him. 'No! NO! You can't do this to me, I'll kill you, I'll string your entrails-' It was a quick and dirty job, but it would hold for a while. The fact that it silenced the evil bastard was just a happy byproduct.
Then it was quiet. The sudden calm left me disoriented, shell-shocked, and I wanted nothing more than to lay down somewhere comfortable and try to get my bearings. Unfortunately, I still had a job to do. I turned my gaze to the demented unicorn before me, and levitated the statue off of his prone form. He wasn't bleeding, and he was breathing. Good. He could be properly interrogated.
“Wake UP!” I shouted, gathering my magic into a malevolent ball and sharpening it to a point. “Wake up, you vile bit of scum! WAKE UP AND ANSWER FOR YOUR CRIMES!” He was not responding; clearly, he needed some encouragement. I lashed out with my mind, forcing my will upon him, pushing tendrils of order magic into his body to bring it under my direct control. Once I had his nerve endings under control, well... Nothing wakes a person up like pain.
He gave a shriek, waking immediately as I electrified every nerve in his epidermis, no doubt feeling as if he were immersed in boiling lead. I maintained the spell for a moment before relenting; more would come later, if necessary. “Now,” I said gravely, letting only a cold glare show on my face, “you will answer for your crimes. I will personally make you feel every bit of pain you sought to bring upon us.” I gave a small surge of magic, sending him writhing in agony for a few more moments. When it subsided, he was left panting and whimpering, curled up into a ball. Pathetic little coward. “During the course of your punishment, we will break your mind apart and examine every little piece; it won't even matter if you lie to us. We will know the truth. And, when you are reduced to a gibbering, senseless wreck, we will execute you like the traitorous vermin you are.”
I heard heavy hoofsteps behind me, and turned to find the Princesses striding towards us, grim and serious. “Ah, Your Majesties!” I said brightly, anticipating the prisoner's just desserts. “I was just telling this traitorous scum what he could expect – I will aid you however, necessary, of course, and I look forward to justice being served. What is your pleasure?”
The lunar princess regarded me coldly. I looked at her, confused. “Is something wrong, Your Majesty? I have secured the prisoner – he is under my complete control, never fear! He could no more cast a spell than a pegasus could.”
She said not a word to me, and turned to the wretch on the floor. He cowered away from her, eyes full of fear – as well he should fear her! – and gave a pathetic whimper.
“Sleep,” she said, horn flashing, and the traitor fell unconscious.
Before I could ask the lunar diarch she'd put the prisoner to sleep so suddenly, she rounded on me. She was livid. Not at the traitor, as first I thought – at me. I looked to Celestia for clarification, but there was no kindness there.
“By the Maker, what do you think you're doing?!” Luna was more angry than I'd ever seen her.
I looked anywhere for support, but none was forthcoming. The guards were, naturally, loyal to the Princesses, but even my fellow researchers were avoiding me as if I had horn rot – at least, the ones who weren't looking at me with outright disgust.
“I'm sorry the ritual failed, Your Highness,” I said respectfully, bowing and lowering my eyes. “And I'm sorry I allowed a traitor into our midst. If you'll allow me, I can help to rectify the situation and extract all of the information we need from the prisoner-”
“YOU WILL EXTRACT NOTHING FROM NO ONE!”
I shuddered, ears ringing as the Royal Canterlot Voice nearly blasted me off my hooves – but it didn't come from Luna.
I gulped, truly afraid. Luna was always known to have a short temper, but if Celestia was angry at me... “I-I know I failed, Your Majesties,” I stammered, trying to maintain my composure and keep my limbs from shaking, “b-but it was an honest mistake; there is no treachery in me, only foolishness. I am truly sorry for any danger I may have put you in, and-”
“This is not about the failed ritual, fool,” Luna said incredulously, regarding me with shock and disgust. “You tortured a fellow being! Such cruelty has never been known in our kingdom!”
I looked from one diarch to the other, confusion warring with indignation. A threat to the crown was a threat to all of Equestria! “But... He would have killed you if he could... He deserved it, and much more...”
“But he did not.”
Celestia regarded me coldly, eyes unwavering, and spoke with the finality of a judge and the authority of a god. With her wings outspread, she towered above me and spoke. “This Kingdom is not one of darkness, but of light. Goodness reigns here, and justice must always be tempered with mercy if it is to remain so. Thus, you are twice the transgressor – first for taking upon yourself the mantle of authority unlawfully, and second for unlawful execution of that authority. It is for this that I judge you.
She closed her eyes for a long moment, unmoving. Not a sound could be heard as she remained deep in thought. Finally, she opened her eyes and regarded me with the same finality... though it was tinged with sorrow. “Sombra. For your crimes, you are stripped of your position and your command. Furthermore, you will have no authority over any other thinking being, pony or otherwise, ever again. But justice will be mingled with mercy, that you may learn its value; you will have the chance to atone for your crimes, and your research may continue. But you may not use magic on any other sentient being without their consent. Do you understand?”
I could not bring myself to speak. How... How could everything have turned so bad so quickly? And how could they twist the law in such a way? They couldn't have mercy on a criminal – to do so was to ignore the harm done to the victim! And that stallion... He tried to victimize all of Equestria in the most terrible way, to doom us all to a second reign of chaos! I had been disgraced – for no good reason, they had reduced me to all but a prisoner. The floor felt as if it was falling out from under me, and numbness crept over my limbs. My future, gone. My greatest work, the permanent binding of the Chaos God, to be finished by another. My standing in the court, my pride, my dignity, all ruined. They had reduced me to nothing... Falling, falling, falling... Wait... I was falling! What the fuck!? AAAAAAA-
***
“-AAAAAAHHHH!”
Who was screaming? Why was I so disoriented? What the fuck had just happened? WHY WAS MY THROAT SORE??!
“YOU BUCKING IDIOT! WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?!”
Oh. I was screaming. And so was Luna, apparently. Those questions were answered, at least. I had only a brief moment to reflect on where the pretty pony princess had learned to swear like a sailor when pain tore me to my very core, severing me in ways I had never known I could be severed. My vision doubled – no, my very experience of self doubled – and briefly I was torn between the utter despair of watching my future crumble before my very eyes, and the utter terror at the mental onslaught I had unleashed upon myself. Two people at once – but not two people, the same person experiencing twice what one should, two disparate times and two sets of eyes and two thundering hearts and two minds and two moralities and two ids and two many and too many and TOO MANY-
*SMACK*
And one sudden pain in the side of my head. Ah, hello real world, we meet again. Kindly fuck off and die.
Luna raised her hoof to deliver another blow, but hesitated when I fixed her with clear eyes. “I... Had... To know!” I gasped, fighting off the surge of memories. I could push them away... But the tide was coming in again, threatening to take me out into the maelstrom.
The lunar princess gave something between a groan and a growl, and charged her horn. “Great. On top of all the complications you've thrown at me, now I have to keep you from coming apart at the seams.” She was definitely sounding less regal – perhaps the stress was bringing out her human side. I opened my mouth to tell Celestia how funny that was, but she – Oh God, the memories were creeping back, I couldn't give in, I had to focus. The real! I had to focus on the real!
“Hit me some more, PLEASE! It's coming back! Don't let it get me, HIT ME!” I shrieked, fighting back the tears as my head felt as if it were being both overfilled and torn apart. I looked up at her with pleading eyes, begging her to help me stay grounded in reality-
I have never seen a shorter hesitation. It surely approached the Planck limit, if there was one.
One good Alicorn-empowered throttling later – and let's not forget, Alicorns have the strength of Earth Ponies along with their powers over the winds and the arcane – my headache subsided. At least, my magically induced, personality-and-mind-splitting headache had subsided. All the existential and mind shattering aches and pains were diminished, and all the fresh, physical aches and pains kept me well tethered to the present with exquisite clarity. I groaned feebly – at that point I wasn't sure I preferred the present to the past, and was halfheartedly considering the benefits of a complete personality breakdown. I just prayed that none of the pain would transfer over when I woke up. I didn't have much time to worry about that, however.
“Time is short,” Luna barked shortly, “and Somb- your friend – needs your aid. You must do what you can in the physical world to prevent him from hurting himself. And he WILL do so if he isn't restrained – he will endure several centuries of thoughts and feelings and experiences before the day is through.” I barely registered the shock and concern on my brother and my friend's faces as they were whisked away out of the dream, presumably to do as she asked. All the while I felt the pressure continue to build at the back of my mind, threatening to consume me again.
My focus was already wavering as Luna – yes, I knew she really was Luna by then, I couldn't deny it any longer – bent down and spoke to me. She was surprisingly calm, even as I strained and writhed. “I'm going to try to save you from your own stupidity,” she said matter-of-factly, her horn glowing. “Not for your sake, mind – you deserve this, and far worse. But I would not face two foes at once, so, for the sake of my kingdom, I will try to preserve the person you have become and prevent the old Sombra from returning.”
“H-how?” I asked, straining to keep the sights and sounds of another time at bay. It wouldn't be long before the dam broke...
She cocked her head and gave me a half smirk. “Do you think the Princess of Dreams cannot distinguish between fantasy and reality, and help others do the same?”
There was a flash... and just like that, I wasn't alone in the visions.
***
Too. Damn. COLD. “It should be illegal to be this cold,” I muttered darkly, glowering at some passer-byes as if they had done me some great personal wrong. “'Most orderly place in the Kingdom' my plot – if they couldn't control the weather, how could they be any more orderly than Canterlot?! These 'Crystal Ponies' don't know the first thing about Order...”
Those were my thoughts... No, not mine. Yes? No? I...
I suddenly found myself forced into the back of my own mind, 'hearing' all the internal gripes and complaints of my other 'self', seeing through his eyes and hearing through his ears and smelling through his snout. It was... Not pleasant. But at the very least I had an 'outside perspective', and was no longer torn between two selves. The memories were no longer being forced into my mind; I was simply experiencing them from a firsthand perspective.
“I had no idea you were such a whiner,” a voice said with a sniff. Luna strode into my vision, blocking my path... And my body kept walking forward, heedless of her. I tried to stop my hooves, but I could not control them. I tried to tell her to move, but my mouth would not work. And then... I simply passed through her. She reappeared a moment later, floating ahead of me gently like a feather on the wind, and taking in the sights of the Crystal Castle. “Did it not occur to you that the cold doesn't bother them?”
'Oh, right, a memory,' I thought, relieved. 'Well, of course I know that now, but what's her problem, I was just grumbling about the bad weather...'
“My 'problem',” she frowned, “is that a former tyrant may return because his new incarnation has the curiosity of a cat and the discretion of a monkey, and so I must protect him from his own locked-away memories.” She blinked, then smiled mischievously. “Oh, and yes, I can read your thoughts here.”
I mentally blinked. '...I'm not sure how I feel about that. Wait, no – that's a lie. I know how I feel about it, and I don't like it. Please stop.'
“Can't,” she said airily, landing lightly trotting alongside me with a smirk. “not until I can be sure you're stabilized, and won't turn back into the raging tyrant you were before. You'll just have to put up with my meddling until I find a more suitable arrangement.”
I grumbled at this but eventually fell silent, having no better suggestions – well, none that were productive, anyway. Suggestions of what she could shove into various anatomically dubious locations probably didn't count as 'helpful', I suppose.
Sombra – or, rather, his memory-body in which I was currently an unwilling occupant – continued to plod up the stairway in the Crystal Castle towards the defense wing. It's where he'd been assigned; research and development for the defense of the Crystal City, with focus on using the natural order magic of the area to their advantage.
The natural order in the location had an interesting affect on the city's inhabitants, particularly the earth ponies. Earth ponies, I knew – though I did not know at the time how I knew, the knowledge just 'came to me', as it were – are intrinsically tied to the land they work, through both their labor and their magic. An earth pony's magic is in their labor, after all, and as they fortify the earth they work – be it through the quarrying of stones or the tending of orchards or the tilling of fields – they are themselves fortified. They become a natural expression of the land. In the case of these Crystal Ponies, however, the earth they worked and its natural Order magic had lent them a certain luster, and in some cases even the translucence, of crystals.
Sombra knew this, I could 'see', but he didn't care much for it; what interested him was the source of their change, and how he could harness that power to redeem himself. He trotted up the stairs with renewed vigor, the cold no longer bothering him as he carefully fanning tiny ember of hope. He could be redeemed; he could be more than redeemed, he could be great again, greater than before. It had been his idea to create a central nexus to focus and control the energies of the area, as well as the natural power generated by the Crystal Ponies. His gaze fell upon the Crystalline Core, and shivered with anticipation. His new work... His new claim to immortality, the project that would mark his place among the great. It would make him famous in his own life, but more importantly... He would have his pride back. He would no longer be in disgrace. He would no longer be a laughingstock, at home and in this lesser dukedom... He shook his head, trying not to dwell on his gilded exile. Once the project was complete, once the Princesses forgave him and promoted him to his proper place at their side, it wouldn't matter any longer. He could celebrate and put the past behind him. But for now...
“What did the Duchess decide?” my mouth asked against my volition. I mentally shuddered, realizing how deeply immersed I was in the memory, and carefully pulled back. I'd have to be more wary – I really couldn't start thinking like him, even if... Even if I technically was him. I forced myself to use my own thoughts and my own memories and examined things with a fresh perspective. The Core immediately caught my attention – it looked like spun glass, but I knew from my past self's knowledge that it was of the purest, strongest, most thaumaturgically infusible crystal available. It was shaped like a cardioid that had been rotated about its axis of symmetry to create a three dimensional figure. It was, to put it simply, beautiful – in our eyes, at least. It was orderly, it was perfect, and it would serve his purposes exactly as he intended. Beautiful.
A roan unicorn, Sombra's co-worker and frequent bearer of bad news, put down the scroll he'd been perusing and turned to give him a wan smile. “Oh, she approved it...” he said slowly, looking tired and strained. “...Conditionally.”
Sombra resisted the urge to face-hoof, and had to be satisfied with a groan and longsuffering sigh. “What does she want changed this time?” he asked, keeping his temper in check. He still had hope that it was something minor, easily changed, and wouldn't materially interfere with the Construct's functioning...
“Oh, just a few things... Like, the entire shape of the Core,” he said airily.
Sombra was shocked into silence, and didn't respond when the other unicorn pushed the scroll towards him. When he finally did start breathing again, it was with rapidly deteriorating composure. “That... That can't possibly work! She's ruining the project, if we follow her design the Construct will only operate at-”
“43% efficiency,” his partner said calmly. “Yes, I ran the figures. It will still, technically, 'work', for a given definition of the word, though if we wish to retain...”
Sombra wasn't listening. He simply stared down at the new design – no doubt drafted by somepony with far more technical knowledge than the Duchess would ever have – and wondered where his life had gone. The Princess's decree had been followed out to the letter; he could no longer demand anything of anyone, not even the palace servants, even those ostensibly put in place to serve him. Any time he wanted something, he had to either do it himself or humble himself to ask – not demand, but ask – someone to do it for him. His own 'secretary' would only give him what he wanted if he asked nicely, and if she didn't like his tone she would simply file her hooves and ignore him until he got the message. Everypony else found this humorous, naturally, and it was all he could do some days to not try to 'teach' them lessons in respect. But worse, far worse than those indignities, was having to deal with her.
The Duchess of the Crystal City had to approve every major change he wished to make, and he wished to make several. The entire city, if he had his way, was to be turned into a magical collector and focus, harnessing the ambient Order energies and bending them to a given purpose. Ley-lines would run through the streets, just below the surface, collecting ambient energy and transporting it along predetermined paths; thaumaturgic crystalline capacitor and battery assemblies would maintain an even, well-regulated flow to prevent spikes or deficits in any given sub-network; hubs and vertices would direct the flow to the proper channels, and to some extent could even be remotely controlled and altered; and the Central Nexus, with the Crystalline Core at its center, was the brain and the heart of the entire city-wide construct, and would act as the focus and control for the lion's share of that collected energy. If all of the light falling onto the city were to be collected into one place and harnessed to do useful work, it would be less powerful than the structure he was trying to create. That is, if a certain somepony would pull her head out of her plot and stop ruining his designs for such frivolous, empty-headed notions that anypony with more than two functioning brain cells would know was a load of horseapples!
He had tried to be reasonable at first. The ley-lines themselves were a headache, but he had masterfully compromised; by having them as a durable surface layer rather than digging up the streets to lay them underground, he had served both his sense of the utilitarian and her 'pretty frou-frou' nonsense equally well. The capacitor/battery assemblies were another story, however; while he had painstakingly sought an arrangement to balance the load while staying only on public properties, a single assembly station was in a spot where the Duchess wished a new garden to be built. “This city must be comfortable as well as beautiful if we are to increase tourism revenue,” she explained to him as she would a child, heaping frustration upon frustration. He eventually found another suitable setup, but it required the shutting down of two businesses and a household to build the housing areas. The hubs and vertices, too, proved a point of contention; while the solid-state devices could be made simply and hidden unobtrusively, the variable and controllable ones were large and utilitarian, and often housed in cumbersome, squat gray boxes the size of small cottages. He had to get rid of more than half of the variable controls, and just hoped that he wouldn't need to alter them later. He did not envy the thaumatrician who had to climb into the solid state devices and manipulate them manually – mostly because, he realized, that thaumatrician would likely be himself.
Despite all the forces acting against his will, however seemed to be coming together; he was finally going to leave his mark on history, he was finally going to be a person of brilliance and importance to be remembered through the ages, he was finally going to see his dreams realized...
And then he saw the new design for the core, and began to seriously consider regicide as a solution to his own personal Gordian Knot.
I, meanwhile, was too shocked by the new design to pay my host much attention. While the crystal cardioid suspended above the table was only vaguely familiar, the new design on the drafting paper was a shape I knew well; it was the spitting image of the Crystal Heart from the show. Accounting for cartoonish simplification, and considering the context and associations, the conclusion was all but certain. 'Sombra... I... We, made the Heart?' I struggled to fit the idea into what I knew of Sombra and the Heart – how could a tyrant make such a force of good, one that was even used to defeat him? – but the evidence was right before me. Sombra and his team had constructed the Heart.
The conversation continued around me, Sombra growing more and more agitated as it went on. “It's a CORE for buck's sake!” he growled, waving a hoof at the new design as if something lewd was drawn on it. “It's supposed to be functional! It doesn't have to be pretty – it just has to work! It CERTAINLY doesn't have to look like an old, overpriced knick-knack you'd see in a Chineigh shop!!!!”
“Tell that to the Duchess,” his co-worker replied easily, well accustomed to Sombra's diatribes and shrugging it off. “As it is, I think we can make it work. A rotating assembly would simulate much the same shape with only a slight drop in efficiency-”
But Sombra would hear none of it. “That's not the bloody POINT!” He shouted, rounding on his partner. “We shouldn't HAVE to change this! It's perfect the way it is! What's her reason this time, eh? Is it not pretty enough? Does it not catch the light just so when the sun rises? Did it just not fit her new decor?!” Just as he started to really build up a head of steam, a calm voice came from the doorway.
“Actually, yes,” the voice said. It was a hateful, awful voice, a voice that heralded furious revisions and sleepless nights. It was a voice that sowed disorder and grief whenever he heard it. That voice, of course, belonged to the Duchess.
Sombra turned towards her slowly, trying to keep his face neutral even as it twitched and spasmed with barely controlled rage. “To what do we owe this... pleasure, your majesty,” he said at last, nearly choking on the last word.
“Well,” she chirped with false cheeriness, her horn glowing beneath her crown as she casually levitated his tools and papers in a manner she knew would get under his skin, “you've complained to me, personally, about every little change I've made to your 'Construct'. So, I thought I'd save us both some time and come to you directly. I'm sure it's such an honor for you, dear.” Her sarcasm was far less masked; she could afford it. She had him by the stallionhood, and they both knew it.
He managed to get control of himself again. His features smoothed, he conversationally replied, “How pragmatic. If only that virtue would extend to more important matters... Say, the shape of the Core?” If I had not been inside him, I wouldn't have been able to see the fury seething below the surface.
The Duchess smiled sweetly as poison. “Oh, I assure you, it's a very pragmatic decision. The old design – it was ugly! What will the tourists think of an ugly old blob of crystal?”
He started to respond, but stopped and processed what she'd said. Tourists. Tourists? TOURISTS?! “Pardon me,” he chuckled humorlessly, “but I must have misunderstood – you seem to think that the core – the controlling focus of enough magical energy that, in the wrong hooves, could level this building – is some sort of tourist trap!”
She paused, as if thoughtful, then nodded. “Yes, that's about right.”
He glowered at her, livid and struggling to find the words to fully encompass that feeling while still retaining his job. “This is my life's work!” he finally managed to stammer. “You can't-”
“I can, and I will,” the Duchess replied haughtily, her mouth set in a firm line as she dropped all pretenses of politeness and charity. “Or do you forget to whom you speak? This is MY city, and I shall run it as I see fit. And if I wish to use this little project of yours to generate additional revenue for my city, well... I shall.” She smirked at the end of her little speech, and turned to leave, feeling she had won the contest of wills.
He stared after her, speechless. How could she possibly be so blindly, blinkeringly ignorant to not see the full potential of the Construct? How couldn't she see the danger, and the waste, of her proposal?! There were so many things wrong with everything she said, he didn't know where to begin. He finally settled for the obvious. “This Construct,” he called after her, his voice cracking as the familiar feeling of despair threatened to engulf him. No, he was so close to his dream, he couldn't stop now... He tried again. “The Construct... It can function as a weapon, if certain small changes are made to it. It can function as anything, really, anything that can be done with magic. You know this; it only needs to be turned to a purpose, and it will focus its power to that task. If any of those 'tourists' gains control of it – or, Celestia forbid, an enemy of the state-”
She yawned and waved a hoof dismissively, glancing at him over her shoulder and rolling her eyes. “There will be guards to protect the Core, and only a select few ponies even know how to operate it – and half of them are in this very room. Even if somepony did manage to subdue the guards and gain possession of the Core, they wouldn't have the faintest idea of how to put it to use – and if they tried, we'd know immediately where to find them based on its unique magical signature – not to mention the crater it would leave should they use it improperly. Besides, once it's fully automated and its function is fixed, altering it would require a massive, concerted effort by several individuals acting in unison.”
Fixed purpose? FIXED PURPOSE?! The hollow, empty sensation grew stronger, but he pushed on, struggling to speak. “You can't do this! The entire purpose of the Construct was to do useful work – ANY useful work – that required otherwise impractical amounts of magical energy! It was to be modular, it was to be variable, it was to do whatever it was we could think of! To fix it to one purpose... It's madness! It's wasteful! It's just plain STUPID!!!”
“Again you forget your place!” she snapped, whirling around and stamping a hoof, glowering dangerously as her horn flared. Sombra watched her warily, heart pounding, not knowing what he would do if she attacked him... But her anger subsided, and she calmly adjusted her crown as if nothing had happened. “I think your ego has grown overlarge,” she said, her voice once again cloyingly, dangerously sweet. “I have no further use for you here; you are to report to Celestia for reassignment. And I will be informing her of your failure to reform. In great detail.” She batted her eyelashes and drove the last nail in the coffin as she crooned, “Perhaps there's a rock farm somewhere that needs your assistance... You have a fondness for crystals, no? You can help 'order' them, from dirty to dirtier to dirtiest...”
His vision seemed to darken as the despair finally overcame him. 'Not again', Sombra thought. 'I can't be disgraced again... This was my last chance...' He yearned to lash out at her, to wipe that smug grin off her face, to show her that he was the one with the power, that he was the one in control, that she was nothing...
But he did nothing. He had no fight left in him; even if he did trample her into the ground as he so dearly wished, to smash her head upon the cold, hard stone floor of his workshop, the guards would subdue him. And even if he did somehow defeat them, the whole castle would be alerted and he would be a marked pony. And even if, by some miracle, he escaped, first the castle, then the city, then the inevitable patrols they'd send searching for the regicidal unicorn... What then? He had nowhere to go. Once again, his ambitions were slain; once again, he would have to start over.
Once again, he was nothing.
He stumbled out of the room without another word, without a looking at or acknowledging anyone, a pony in shock. He paid no heed to the conversation going on behind him between the Duchess and his ex-co-worker. “Oh yes, on more thing,” she said, as if nothing was amiss and she hadn't just personally shattered another pony's dreams, “'The Core' is far too formal... I think 'The Crystal Heart' is a much nicer name, don't you?” He didn't care about the murmer of assent that followed. He didn't blink as the guards matched his pace and flanked him, 'escorting' him out of the castle and onto the train to Canterlot. He didn't respond as the world around him dissolved, and I found myself in my own 'body' once more. But even though I had only watched all of that unfold (though admittedly from an intimate point of view), I felt the same sense of loss. It was distant, but it was undeniably present. I found that I not only had my current memory of having watched it, but of having actually lived through it myself. It was... disconcerting, to say the least. I was still getting the memories, it seemed, but in a much less mind-rapey way.
I nearly jumped out of my skin when Luna broke the silence. “What a charming little autocrat,” she commented blithely. “Had I known she was such a little beast, I would have had you sent somewhere else. And to think, half the rumors in Canterlot said that you and her were an item...”
I moved my jaw, grateful to be able to use it again, and tried to remain impassive. “Erm... Yeah, she was pretty unpleasant,” I said distractedly, still examining the loss I felt. Then I registered the second part of what she said, and could almost feel my brain slip a gear. Her... and I? I shuddered. “Wait, what?!” I glowered at her, shocked and offended. “How could you possibly think we were... Eww! Just, eugh!” I shuddered again, my brain going places against my will, and I... Nope! Nope, nope nope! That that was officially over, do not pass go, kindly go fuck off, brain!
She chuckled at my discomfiture, and I continued to glower until she stopped. “Oh come now, you two fought like husband and wife! Most of the staff seemed to think she was simply trying to get your goat!” I shook my head in vigorous denial, too disgusted by the thought of it to say anything. “No? Well, didn't you have a special somepony? Not even a wistful thought about some pretty mare?”
I frowned, and realized I could remember... Well, everything before that day. It was muddy in some places, and a few days were almost entirely absent, but... “No... No mares,” I said, surprised. “Never saw much use for them, usually.”
She looked offended for a moment, then gave a start and snickered, smiling roguishly. “...What about stallions?” she asked, snickering.
“I suppose I had a few tolerable aquiantances – wait. Gah! NO!” I shouted, incensed. “No! I wasn't interested in mares or stallions!” I growled, glowering. As she continued to snort and laugh at my discomfiture, I blurted out, “I didn't have time for anypony else, I only wanted power!”
And there it was. I gave a start, realizing what I'd just admitted to myself and the Princess. Such a damning Freudian slip. She was just as shocked as I was at my pronouncement, but... It was the truth. At that time, I only cared about my own power, my prestige and status in the world. I... I didn't know any sort of love. I didn't care to, either. And, what was worse, I wasn't really sure if I'd changed that much since then...
“...Well, there goes the other half of the rumors about you,” she said wryly, and I glowered at her clear disappointment and lack of concern for my dignity. She sighed and regarded me levelly, but there was a bit of sympathy in that look. “If we had seen you then... If Celestia and I had seen what she'd done to you, we would have had 'words' with her, and your punishment would have been finished. Indeed, if you had come to us and told us what happened, we would have done precisely that. Our... Informants, had been keeping us up-to-date on your progress, and we were very close to intervening already. But you never came. As it was, we thought that the rumors flying around were true – that you and her were... Well.” She coughed politely and blushed. “We saw no need to intervene when you seemed to have found your place in the world, at her side.”
I cocked my head, confused. “You mean he didn't?” I asked. I was sure that going to the Princesses was exactly what he intended to do... “But he – I – was pretty resigned to it. I DEFINITELY didn't have... anything to do with her,” I stammered, blushing, but she at least had the decency to remain impassive that time. “Why wouldn't I follow through? Why didn't I go to you and Celestia with what happened? I certainly didn't see any other choices at that time...”
The Lunar Diarch gave a humorless smile. “It's been a small mystery for a long while, but my Sister and I had never found a suitable explanation. You passed the gate guard, but beyond that we know nothing for certain until we were informed that you were back in the Crystal City. We simply assumed that you two became more 'intimately acquainted' after she sent the letter but before you set foot in the castle proper, and decided that discretion was the best course. But that clearly wasn't the case,” she said at my deadpan look of denial. “Perhaps now we'll have some answers.”
The world around us came back into focus, colors fading into the murky greyness and resolving into solid objects. I braced myself to be 'taken over' again, to find myself a rider in my own body as I watched yet another memory unfold, but nothing of the sort occurred. Instead, I found myself unchanged. Confused, I looked about – and yelped as Sombra passed through my barrel.
“Sorry,” Luna chuckled without a hint of sincerity, “I think I've got the kinks worked out, now. You get your own 'body' for this little soiree.”
“You could have warned me,” I grumbled, following my memory-self as he trudged up the path to... Canterlot Castle? Oh. Right, of course. Several days had passed, and he had made his way back to Canterlot in disgrace, I suddenly knew. He had a robe drawn about him, obscuring his face, and kept his head bowed. Though I had my own 'body', I still felt the memory's thoughts and emotions – and he was utterly miserable. He plodded through the gardens, past the various statuary and tended bushes, and wondered where everything went wrong. He wondered if there really was something wrong with him – if he, not everyone else, was the cause of his problems... He wondered if, all the times he thought he was doing right, he was doing evil. The thought made him shudder, but something was broken and he didn't know what! Nothing was going right, everything had fallen apart, and he didn't have any answers. How could he...
HIM.
He stopped, seeing a familiar, hateful sihouette. Why Celestia kept him there, he didn't know. He glowered up at the stone Draconequus as all thoughts of personal wrongdoing evaporated from the onslaught of indignant fury. He wasn't the one that sent a cultist into his ranks and interrupted his ritual. He wasn't the one who tried to betray the entire kingdom and usher in a new age of chaos! Yes, he had tried to deal with the traitor brutally... But that swine deserved it!
“I'm going to go find a pickaxe,” he growled after several moments of seething silence, glowering up at the statue, “and then I'm going to see just how much a stone can hurt.”
'Oh? Is that any way to treat an old friend?' a lilting, jeering voice crooned.
I watched, confused, as Sombra snapped his head around in shock, looking around for the source of the voice... and slowly turned back to the statue, his heart pounding. “You... How are you breaking free?” he asked, taking a few steps back as panic crept into his voice. He looked about for somepony, anypony, who could help. “I need to get the guards, I need-”
'You need to stop,' the voice said with uncharacteristic seriousness, 'and listen to my proposal. I'm still stuck in here, if that's what you're worried about – if I weren't, don't you think I'd have escaped already?' the voice asked petulantly.
I could feel Sombra's reservations. He didn't trust the Draconequus, of course... But, what did he have to lose? “What could you possibly offer that could make up for what you took?” he asked suspiciously, his curiosity piqued despite himself.
'Well, I took everything from you – and for that, I'm truly, truly sorry,' the voice said. Sombra couldn't decide whether Discord was mocking him or if he really was that bad at faking sincerity. Perhaps it was both – the tales of the mad creature spoke volumes of his capriciousness. 'But, I can at least give you back a measure of your dignity. How's that sound?'
Sombra stared at the statue, wondering just what his game was. “Talk,” he growled, “or I'll try my hoof at groundskeeping – the gardens could use a new gravel-bed...”
He heard the sound of sarcastic clapping in his head, and the gleeful voice cackled victoriously. 'Wonderful! Now, let's see...' The draconequus proceeded to tell the dubious Sombra about a certain book hidden in the old castle – the Sisters' old castle, deep within the Everfree forest. One spell in particular, he explained, would allow him to control the minds of others, to bend their will to his – without the need for constant concentration and overpowering magical strength. It wasn't even a standard enchantment or curse, and didn't leave the characteristic magical signatures – it would slave the targets will to the caster. 'It's really not my style, that one,' he said with airy disdain, 'being the Spirit of Chaos and all that. I much prefer to just go in and mess with the works, and see what happens! But you... You like Order! It fits you like a glove, bossing people around and making them do exactly and precisely what you want... How very boring. How very you.' He tsked as if disappointed, but continued before the unicorn could object. 'Anyway, I'm surprised you didn't discover that spell yourself. Like I said, it's perfect for an ambitious, strapping young horn-head such as yourself!'
Sombra was torn. On one hoof, it made perfect sense for him to find that book, learn the spell, and cast it on that wench of a Duchess. On the other...
“How can I possibly trust you? Even if this isn't a trap, how will I know I can even trust that book? For all I know, you aren't sending me off to find the very spell that would free you completely!”
The voice laughed. 'Oh, that's easy! It's a journal – Starswirl the Bearded's journal, as a matter of fact,' he crooned, as if anticipating a delectable morsel. 'What, do you think he divulged EVERYTHING he learned, eh? Do you think he just researched the nicer, fluffier branches of magic?'
Sombra's eyes widened with shock. Starswirl, the very pony he'd looked up to, his inspiration for greatness... Of course. “That... actually makes sense.” he muttered, his brow furrowed as he rubbed his chin. “He would have researched magic – any magic – for the sake of that knowledge. He said as much in his memoirs. And a unicorn of that power wouldn't want that kind of knowledge to fall into just anyone's hooves. But I never knew...”
'Of course not,' the voice said dismissively 'Celestia wouldn't tell you about that, she wouldn't want to 'sully his reputation',' he pshawed, sounding disgusted. 'But people like you... You always have to know, don't you?”
The black unicorn was silent, deep in thought. Finally, after a full minute of consideration, he spoke. “Everything you've said so far – if truthful – is self-consistent. Moreover, it makes sense. Just one last question...” He glared dubiously at the statue, sure he had the draconequus cornered – if the demon hesitated, he'd know it was a wild goosechase. “You're not doing this out of any love for me; what do YOU get out of it?”
The statue started to titter... and then the titter became a chuckle, and the chuckle became a full-blown laugh. It rang in his head maddeningly, a multitude of voices in demented chorus, before it finally answered.
'I get to watch!'
Sombra, ill at ease and uncertain, slowly backed away from the statue. When the laughter did not die down, he turned tail and fled back down the path, towards the castle gate and away from the cackling mad-god. Either the creature was telling the truth and he would find the key to his ambitions within the castle... or he would not. But if he did not act, his future was gone already. He had nothing to lose, and everything to gain.
The world started to dissolve once more, and Luna regarded the fleeing figure with resigned sadness. “I think we have our answer.”
I squirmed uncomfortably, still trying to grasp all I'd seen – all I'd learned about who I was. I didn't like where things were going, but I was still desperately hoping for something, anything, to justify what I'd done. Something to show everyone that I wasn't... That I hadn't been the kind of person everyone thought I was.
Luna gave me a measured look, and opened her mouth as if to say something... But closed it and shook her head. “This is what you've done,” she said, the world around us once again a dull gray fog. “You cannot change it, you cannot deny it, but you don't have to let it define who you are today. You still have that choice.” I looked up at her warily, trying to keep my face and mind blank, to push away those painful thoughts...
I twitched, feeling a jolt as if I'd woken up on the very edge of sleep, and found that I could recall several days worth of new experiences. I knew I had succeeded, that the book was in the old room as the Draconequus had described it; I knew I stored it in my saddlebag, disguised as my own journal; and I knew, by heart, the spell that could allow me to control the minds of other sentient beings and bend them to my will. It was surprisingly easy – and more surprising was how naturally it meshed with my Order magic. Whatever Discord was playing at, he had told the truth on those points – the spell would allow me to, almost effortlessly, insinuate my will into the mind of another and put their skills and talents to any purpose I wished.
I shuddered at the knowledge, but I couldn't get it out of my mind – it was permanently a part of me. I could no more forget it than I could forget how to drive, or how to solve algebraic equations. I could even remember how I first practiced with it. I came across a small group of Diamond Dogs on my way back to the Canterlot train station, and forced my will upon them. I ran them through a gamut of simple tasks – first marching instructions, then making a pyramid out of rocks, then a silly dance. Satisfied, I forced them to flee and finally withdrew my hold on their minds. It wasn't my proudest moment – the silly dance in particular had left a bad taste in my craw – but it was proof of concept. I could control the minds of sentient beings. And now, days later in the memories, I saw my old self standing before the opened doors of the throne room. He had rendered docile the two guards flanking it by means of a weaker version of the spell, convincing them that he was no threat, and that he had an appointment with the Duchess. He otherwise left their wills intact, but it was a small comfort for me.
He walked inside with a slight limp, his robes tattered with days of hard use, looking much worse for wear. Even so, he had to keep his head down so she wouldn't see the look of triumph on his face. He cast surreptitious glances around the cathedral-like throne room, looking for witnesses... and found himself alone with the Duches. Good. What's more, she was too immersed in a book to notice him at first. When she finally did, she gave a start.
“Who let you – wait. Sombra? I thought I told you to leave this city,” she growled haughtily, setting the book aside and climbing down from her throne.
Sombra, not wishing to raise the alarm, did something he'd never done to her before – ever. His pride only allowed it for as a means to an end – his final victory over her, disguised as defeat. He bowed low, his muzzle nearly touching the ground, and begged in the most piteous voice he could manage, “Please, your Majesty, I have come to ask for my old job back. You were right. I... Was wrong.” That last part was so difficult to say that even the memory of it stung my pride.
She stopped, eyes wide with surprise, but quickly masked it. A catlike smile spread across “Well,” she chuckled, turning about and pretending to consider it, “that position is already filled – I can't really give it back. Besides, you don't really deserve it back, in any case. Perhaps there are other positions available – something of a more personal nature-”
He didn't let her finish. As soon as her back was turned, he wormed his way into her mind... And once he was sure his will had pushed out her own, he took complete control.
She froze, slackjawed and vacant eyed, as she became a living puppet. A small mental push made her turn around and face him.
“Say my name,” he said simply, confirming what he already knew to be true.
“Sombra Sartus,” she said without inflection.
He nodded. “Who controls you, heart, mind, and will?”
“Sombra Sartus,” she said again, exactly as she had before.
He smirked and nodded once more, satisfied. “Good. Now, stop looking like a damned zombie and put that mind and heart to use – though your will shall forevermore be mine, and mine alone.”
She gave a start as if waking up from a deep trance, and looked about without surprise. “What do you desire, my Lord?” she asked, her normal demeanor back, though made all the more eerie for her deference.
He shivered, a tingle going down his spine, enjoying his first taste of power after such a long dought. Still, despite how enjoyable it would be to waltz about the castle with his former tormentor as his own personal slave, he knew he'd have to be more subtle if the charade was to continue. “First, you are to display no signs of subservience to me – not in public, not where anypony can see you. That would ruin this little ruse, and, well,” he gave an unpleasant smile, “we wouldn't want that, now, would we.”
“Certainly not!” she said, offended at the very idea. And why shouldn't 'she' be? She was, essentially, just an extension of Sombra's will. A slave in all ways.
I watched with a growing dread as my past-self went on to explain his plan – how she was to promote him to the head of the project, and make him her personal advisor. How she was to explain things, in case someone became suspicious of the sudden turn-about. How she was, in short, to fully bind herself to his will, and to promote his own power and prestige in the process, while hiding it all so that she could never be free again. He had it all worked out... and not once did he ever seem to care that he had essentially destroyed another person.
I shuddered, turning away from the one-sided conversation. “I think I know how Scrouge felt about those ghosts,” I muttered, taking some pride in the fact that I would never, ever do something like that – not again, at any rate. I was better than that, surely; one couldn't grow up in America without seeing slavery as one of the greatest evils, on par with rape and murder. It simply wasn't condoned, and it definitely wasn't done. “At least I'm not that person anymore.”
Luna cocked her head, considering. “Do you really think that?” she asked after a pause, my past-self continuing to hash out the details of the Duchess's mental domination. “Tell me, why do you think you're better than he?”
“Because I wouldn't do anything like that, duh,” I grumbled, wondering why she was belaboring the point. “I may not look it now, but I was white before this transformation. Let me tell you, there's nothing quite like being a white male in public school to get 'slavery equals bad' hammered into your head on a yearly basis.”
“Ooooh, I see,” she said, nodding condescendingly. “So, you think you're better, not because you have a pure heart or a desire to do good, but because you were trained to do so. Tell me, did you train yourself?”
I balked, surprised and angered at her nerve, at her accusation. “You... I'm not some dog to be trained! And what does it matter, I-”
“You were raised in an environment where such things were taboo, and so you didn't do those things which were taboo. This does not make you good, it merely makes you adaptive to your social environment. Tell me honestly... How much sympathy do you really have for the Duchess? Right now, that is.”
I shifted from hoof to hoof, flustered and defensive. “That's irrelevant. I wouldn't do it to her, that's what matters,” I growled.
“You have no sympathy for her, do you?” Her voice was level, without accusation, but still it stung. I kept silent, unwilling to admit that she was right... But so what if I didn't have sympathy for that bitch? Wasn't it enough that I knew what I did was wrong? That it was against the rules, and that I wouldn't do it again? Why did it matter what I felt for her, so long as I obeyed the rules?
She waited for my answer, but when none was forthcoming she nodded to herself and sighed. “At least this world gave you the structure you needed to curb your evil acts... Even if you didn't benefit from it yourself. Even if you're still the same old person, just as wretched as before.”
I glowered at her, unwilling to bend. “If I follow your rules and do as you say, that should be sufficient for you. I don't need someone telling me what kind of a person I should be, how I should live, so long as I'm not hurting anyone else. Besides, I thought you were here to protect me, not to judge me!”
She raised an eyebrow and regarded me coolly. “I suppose it's enough – for the world, at least – that you behave in a decent enough manner. But that's not what I'm talking about, now; I'm trying to protect you from yourself, you dolt. Following different social mores under the threat of punishment doesn't change who you are – all it does is mitigate the damage to others. You may not do the same evil you did before, but you will still be just as miserable and lonely as ever.” She sighed, raising a hoof to her forehead and rubbing it, deep in thought. When she finally spoke again, it was with unusual candidness.
“When I returned from my own banishment,” she started, hesitant but with growing determination, “I was cured by the elements. But few knew the depth of the transformation that took place that night. Most of the ponies in my kingdom think that I was possessed by some sort of dark magic or evil spirit, and that it was none of my own doing. Their beliefs are incorrect. It was all my choice. I fed my envy, and I gave into the darkness. I embraced it. And when my sister brought the elements to bear against me, I still chose the darkness over the light. So...” She sighed, shaking her head, and I wondered if I'd have to bear the same regret before all this was over. “They cast me out. The Elements cast me out. It was a thousand years before I was given the choice again, before I faced the Elements once more. This time, however, they did something that they did not do before. I suspect, because they were used by those who understood their power, they did more than just blast me – they showed me the truth. They showed me exactly how black my heart had become, how my own selfishness and greed had stained my soul. They showed me, in a brief instant, how deplorable I was compared to the goodness in those six mares. But, more than that truth... They gave me a choice.”
She no longer looked regal. She didn't even look particularly intimidating. She was, however, more sober than I'd ever seen her, and her intensity... The implications of someone so high, brought so low, awoke a profound dread in me. She continued, her words coming softly but with undeniable authority. “They gave me the choice to either allow them to purge me of my evil, or to be purged with my evil. There was no third option, no tertium quid. After seeing how wretched I had become, how miserable I was and how far I'd fallen... I couldn't continue like that. I thank the Maker for that second chance.”
She sighed, and quickly regained her aplomb. “Which brings me to you,” she said, frowning once more, and regarding me sternly. “You have the same choice, and you are in much the same position that I was. Though you will never be a threat to Equestria again, you are still just as lonely, just as miserable as I was – you simply do not know it. And how can you? You are devoid of all love, mercy, and kindness, just as I was when I gave in to the darkness. And though I do not have the Elements of Harmony to change you as I was changed, I can at least help you to see the truth. You are wretched, Sombra, and the sooner you can admit that, the sooner you can put your path to rights.”
Even though I could think of no logical basis to deny her claims, I refused to accept it. Too stubborn, perhaps. Or maybe I was just desperate to cling on to whatever scraps of pride I had left. I told myself that there must be some justification for what I'd done, or that I was fundamentally different from the person I'd been before. Unable to think of anything sort of rebuttal, I gruffly mumbled, “Let's just agree to disagree, okay?”
She sighed, turning away and watching as the world around us dissolved. “Pearls before swine,” she muttered, and moments later we were once more surrounded by the gray void.