Catalyst

by That Colt


Chapter 1: In Tenebris, Nihil

Pain, shock, failure…Anger.

It didn’t know these concepts, but it was quickly learning. It had spent a long time waiting, wanting, seething, it was a thing, a soft and weak thing. This it knew well, it had been…robbed? Something had been taken from it.

In a place far from the eyes of ponies, dragons and other creatures that still live in the traditional sense, a cry echoed. This was not a cry of anguish, it lacked the sympathetic tones of sadness; it was not anger, nor was it the rancorous tones of victory. This was pain; the pain of being born again, the pain of cheating death and failing to succeed.

It pulled itself from the pitch black pool of dark magic, bones half covered in bloody viscera, a heart squelching blood struggling to finish its own construction as flesh covered in a dark grey coat rushed across the form; trying desperately to cloth its inner self.

The cry echoed again; small creatures fled who heard it, those who did not suddenly found themselves part of an ancient spell, cast before the trees and hovels they called home existed; it wasn’t an unpleasant death, but it was death. Their bodies simply stopped; life energies drawn to the cry, as a moth to flame.

It tried again, it pull itself from the dark pool; shadowy tendrils emerged, struggled to hold it back, to drown it in the foul arcana given form. It now had a shape, legs, a well-muscled body, grey coat and a wild black mane. It screamed as a dark, red and twisted horn erupted from its brow. A Flash of magic, more instinct than spellweave; forced the tendrils into submission as it finally pulled itself out of the pool to stand shaking on a cool black crystal floor.

It was alive…again, it had died…again, it…He had failed to reclaim his kingdom. He stood up, regal in bearing and opened his eyes; two red dots of pure power looked out over one of his many sanctuaries; green and purple magics rippled over his body staining the whites of his eyes as they pulled silver armor from the Aether to shield his once again mortal form.

He began to walk, scoffing at the pool of magic that had birthed him. Its tendrils reached, pleadingly for him; it was alive in the sense, and in a sense it was dying.

“You have served your purpose.” His voice rumbled, it was deep, rich and carried authority. The declaration mad to the pool was emotionless, stated as a fact. He pointed his fore leg at the pool and focused, pulling its power back into himself. Enjoying the sensation of the somewhat-living-things death, anguish, sadness, confusion…Fear. Ah, Fear how long he had missed it and the distinctive order it brought to the world.

Braziers burst to life, banishing the darkness with light and giving birth to shadow; Like all of his sanctuaries, this one had been built in the event that he would have been killed. He had no doubt that some had been lost to the ravages of time, others looted, destroyed or otherwise rendered inoperable. But his foresight had seen them each equipped with certain necessities. A smile pulled his muzzle back, revealing rows of immaculate white teeth possessed of sharp canines that had no place on an equine; he would need to feed soon, his new body was already hungry.

It was an amusing thought, after all he had cheated death, now he wanted food. He chuckled, a sound more akin to a avalanche, while he walked the black crystal hall stopping at a single door. Turning the latch on the door he stepped in, light filled the library; not as comprehensive as the one he had possessed in his kingdom before those two had sealed him away, before his most recent death.

He fell to his knees, unable to move; pain wracked his body. A sensation of falling, unable to move. Cold, so cold, so dark; no light, no shadow…Fear, Failure, Anger. He was a king! Not by birth or divine intervention, no he was a king by right. Every shred of power he possessed was his, taken, earned, created, but never borrowed. Forcing himself to stand he fell forward, slamming into a shelf, scattering books across the crystal floor.

Light, from it shadow, His Empire; protected by one of their kin no doubt; it didn't matter the Crystal Heart was hidden…a Dragon? He shook his head the memories disjointed as always after death. He had to focus, his new eyes caught sight of his reflection in the floor. He was a king; though that wasn't always the case; He looked past the reflection, a small sickly grey colt; barely old enough to hold a sword. The colts horn was small, deformed incapable of all but the most basic of magics.

He did not shy away from the image, it was him; to deny that he had come from such a pathetic creature was to invite cowardice. Such was not befitting a king, nor was confusion.

“Show me” He breathed, calling upon dark powers beyond control of many. “Show me everything”

He drew the power into himself until it burned, tearing at his mortal frame with eldritch fire. He held it there; his bones ached, his heart raced and his eyes bulged. Cracks raced along the dark crystal of his sanctuary as its master suffered. He did not cry, he did not scream. Rather he let the magic fade; and with it the pain.

He knew now what happened, he had been destroyed by the Crystal Heart. A usurper stood on his throne, and twins still lived. Time had passed, yes, since his imprisonment, since his death. But how much?

Now that you know the question, you can find the answer.

He stood again on legs far more steady, regaining his composure while musing at the deceptively simple words of his old teacher. “Always teaching aren’t you Starswirl?”

He plucked a ledger from one of the shelves; unmarked and sharing appearance with dozens of others. It was the correct one, he knew, now that his memory was his again. The ledger, was enchanted; a spell created by the Princess of the Sun in fact. A lesser pony would have scoffed at using her magic, a lesser creature would have thrown a tantrum at the mention of her name. He was a King, he was not a lesser pony; if the tool worked, its genesis was irrelevant.

The spell in question affected records. When bound to a place or resource the leger would automatically keep track of changes, expired goods and for his case, dates. Flipping to the last recorded page he noted the loss of his resurrection pool and looked at the date.

“One thousand and five years” saying it out loud didn’t help the reality of it, he sank back into a newly formed crystal chair he had reflexively conjured. He rubbed his temples and thought, the Lunar princess, she had used a power he was very familiar with on him; turning him to pure shadow. Such a transmutation was part of his own portfolio; and not without difficulty. Had it been done from the outside, without preparation; the loss of corporeal form would have been disorienting, confusing…maddening.

He stroked his chin; a King was a judged by his strength. Strength was not always measured in force, but often, in mental alacrity. Being stripped of his corporeal form, then sealed in ice no doubt had left lasting damage on his last body’s ability to contain his consciousness and soul. That was the only way to explain the obvious mistakes he had made in trying to reclaim his empire. His mistakes, he nodded slowly going over the events in his mind once more. He was not the kind of pony that buried his mistakes and failures. After all, his teacher had always said that one learns more from failure than success. He himself coined the saying that a setback only lead to failure if one did not continue.

But….one thousand and five years. The last of his willing lieutenants and his descendants would have likely died long ago, his empire was stolen. He would need allies…and an army. He stood sharply, purpose in mind. A wild grin on his face as dark purple energy flowed over him tearing enchanted tomes from shelves, flipping them open, each enchanted to mimic copies that still existed all over Equestria and beyond. He would find allies, he would have his army; he would reclaim what was his and take what should never have been…theirs.

He would bring fear to the world, order to the chaos; never again would a colt or filly be crippled by the rampage of a incarnate force bent on spreading chaos, never would a youth go hungry and alone because of abusive parents, no creature, pony or otherwise would wage war upon each other again. Order would reign, and it would reign from the throne of fear.

But first he would need to prepare, to study, His prodigious intellect was already fast at work building the plan in his mind, mentally checking of boxes on a list of tasks as if they had been written on a scroll. A small, very small part of him relished in his library and this research. After all, his most cherished memories had been spent endlessly studying and caring for such things.

The Black King Sombra, Crystal Tyrant; once librarian banished the nostalgia. This king needed to focus on the present and the thousand years prior to it.

***

“Mommmmmmmmmmmy!” A shrill voice echoed out of the crystal halls of the palace. Both masking the direction of the cry, and amplifying it’s effect. The Princess Twilight Sparkle shot strait up in her bed, which as a unicorn had never presented much of a problem other than perhaps throwing out her back for a day or two, but as an Alicorn the motion carried forth to her wings and sent her flying strait into the vaulted ceiling of her bedchamber.

“Ow, Ow, Ow” she clutched her head with both forelimbs and gently lowered herself to the ground. Her gossamer night gown, a gift from Rarity; clung tightly to her now sweat covered form, highlighting the gentle curves her body.

“Mah—aaaaaaaaaaaaahm!” The second call could only be barely convinced to that of her adoptive daughter was speaking any real language. The door to her chambers opened revealing the armored figure of one of her guards.

“Princess, your daughter is…”

Twilight strode past him, hooves clicking on the hard floor, into the illuminated hallway ignoring the stinging effects of the lights on her eyes. “I can hear, thank you.”

The Guard nodded and resumed his post outside her bed chambers; she didn't mean to be that terse, it was late or early depending on how you looked at it. She decided that she would apologize later; right now she had to comfort her daughter. It was still strange to think of the young Pegasus like that; but welcome as it brought warmth to her heart. Her daughter’s room was close by, technically next to her own but given the tree like structure of her new home and the superfluous scale that seemed to accompany anything called a palace it was a good brisk walk to see what Scootaloo was crying about. Truth be told, she had an idea and truly hoped she was wrong as she pushed the large double doors open spilling light into the filly’s sleep area.

“Mommy!” Scootaloo shot out of the bed like a tear drenched arrow into Twilight’s open forelimbs, burying her face into the lavender mare’s chest and almost instantly soaking her coat with her crying.

“Scootaloo, it’s all right, your safe, what’s wrong?” she spoke in calm even tones lowering herself into a sitting position to cradle the upset filly in her lap. She was at least keeping her voice even; took a great deal of effort given her normal method of dealing with the unexpected which was as Rainbow Dash loved to phrase it the mother of all freak outs. She gently stroked Scootaloo’s mane as the filly’s sobs became less ragged; thankfully evening out ever so slightly. “Scootaloo?” she cradled her daughter’s chin ever so slightly forcing her to look up.

Scootaloo’s pale violet eyes were bloodshot and large there was the lingering evidence of fear. “I..I’m sorry mom, I had…the….” She gulped and was about to break out crying again when Twilight pulled her close and nuzzled her head.

“Hush now sweet angel, let me take you away.
“Far from the dark and the shadow,
“Hush now sweet angel, there is nothing to fear,
“Trust in the ones who hold you so dear,
“Hush now sweet angel, behold the day
“Safe and so ready for play, so free of fear,
“All is right now, sweet angel, this I say,
“Hush now sweet angel, let me take you away…

Twilight’s singing voice echoed through the palace, to those few guards she had allowed Princess Celestia to station in her home it was a sound that made them stop and look to the spires of the castle; to those ponies away in the village below it coaxed forth tears. Twilight, in honesty didn’t care about them at this moment, all she cared about was the small life in her arms and how the song with its dulcet tones had calmed her, “You had the nightmare again didn’t you?”

Scootaloo nodded as Twilight picked her up to carry her out of the bedroom and into the bright hall. “I’m sorry mom, I…just…I don’t”
Twilight smiled at the lite orange filly in her arms; it was a warm smile or so she hoped. It did have the effect of calming Scootaloo down, who now clung to her tightly, her sobs having since faded. Like she did every night this happened, she would take Scootaloo down to the kitchen and they would talk over coffee and Trottingham Biscuits.

“Sweetheart, you never need to apologize for being afraid.” She sat her daughter down at smaller, far more practical wooden table in the kitchen proper. Not that she didn’t like the giant one in the dining hall; other than she had to shout to be heard. “Coffee? Biscuits?”

Scootaloo nodded silently and rubbed her eyes, she would start talking soon. It gave time for Twilight to wake herself up over the rising aroma of her favorite Zebrethopian blend, after all this was still all so new to her despite how natural it felt. The past year had been so much, too much for most ponies; she looked out the window at night-soon-to-be-predawn sky and sighed. This year she became a princess, changed species, began a relationship with Rainbow Dash who was off in Canterlot to take her oath as a member of the Royal Guard, adopted Scootaloo from a life on the streets, been the keeper of all Alicorn magic in Equestira, fought a demigod, lost her magic, found new ancient magic, sent said demi-god back to Tartarus and then was given a castle, in the middle of Ponyville…well not exactly the middle; more like to the east by half a block and slightly north.

She shook her head free of her normal obsession with details, the whistle of the coffee pot helped. For all that she had been through, Scootaloo’s well-being was first on her mind and it always would.

“Thanks” Scootaloo looked into the ceramic cup as Twilight filled it with the dark brown mixture. The filly reached over and pulled the brown sugar towards her waiting for the chance to scoop heaps of into the normally bitter beverage. Twilight took her seat across from her daughter, Scootaloo was stirring her drink, she’d start any time now. The talking was helping, or so she thought; Evidence pointed to the fact that it was working. Scootaloo as far as Twilight could glean had always had nightmares. But since she had begun to live with the Alicorn Princess of Friendship and Magic, they had begun to fade. Until Tirek, how many sad conversations had started with those two words, until Tirek.

“It was kinda the same…”

Twilight blinked and immediately took a drink from her coffee; she needed to focus as her daughter spoke.

“The same way, I’m coming home from school…Applebloom and Sweetie Belle are talking; I have no idea what they are saying or if I’m even supposed to. Then the Sky goes all.” Scootaloo waved her forelegs in circles over her head rapidly.

“Next thing I know, I can’t move my wings and I see the library on fire… All I see is fire; I try to run, I see you in the fire and…and…” Scootaloo’s eyes welled up preparing to cry again only to find her mother’s forelimb draped across her own.

“It’s ok Scootaloo; I’m safe, your safe.” Twilight cooed gently as her daughter inhaled sharply to fight back the tears.

“I wish it would end there; but it never does it always spills into the old nightmare.” Scootaloo continued looking down into her coffee, shame playing across her face.

“Scootaloo.” Twilight at that time got up and moved behind her daughter, wrapping her in a warm embrace while nuzzling small head. “That nightmare, is because you’ve lost so much and stayed so strong. I’ll tell you as many times as you want, and even more than after that. I will never leave you, I will never send you away, I will never hurt you and I most certainly will never trade you for something as worthless as alcohol.”

***

Scootaloo’s breathing finally evened out as she closed her eyes and leaned into her mother’s warmth. Twilight was her mother; ever since she nearly froze to death in the winter. Twilight had been there for her, at first setting her up in orphanage; and when that didn’t work taking her into her own home.

She had shared so much with a filly who had nothing. She shared a love of knowledge that had become infectious; she had shared with her marefriend, Rainbow Dash who every moment she could worked with Scootaloo to learn to fly. She shared her parents; now Scootaloo’s grandparents. Night Light, a Grandfather who endlessly spoiled her at every chance and tortured the family as a whole with his terrible sense of humor. Twilight Velvet, a Grand Mother who was the most nurturing and supporting mare she had ever met.

That wasn’t all, Scootaloo smiled nuzzling her mother’s soft coat. She had gained a totally awesome, well almost as awesome as Rainbow Dash, Uncle in Shining Armor. He was busy a lot, being the prince con-something of her Aunt, Lord High Marshal of the Equestrian Military and a soon-to-be father himself; but he still, no always, always found time to teach her how to use a sword. She couldn't think of him without thinking of her Aunt either; Aunt Candance as far as Scootaloo was concerned was endless, unconditional love given exceptionally frilly pink form. Not that she didn't enjoy the endless make overs, fitting sessions and spa visits with her aunt. She just wouldn't admit it.

All of them were there for her; she knew that. She wanted to believe that this would never end; but her life taught her otherwise; good things only lasted in dreams. She snuggled up to her mother, not noticing they had slipped to the floor as she slipped into sleep hoping that this dream would never end.