//------------------------------// // Chapter 2: Regarding Falling Villains, Colors, and Purple Alicorns // Story: Regarding Falling Villains // by naturalbornderpy //------------------------------// REGARDING FALLING VILLAINS   The blackened void had been everything I had imagined it to be. I was infinite; it was never-ending; and best of all it was quiet and completely absent of alicorns. Truly a blissful place.                  Well, that’s basically how I’d always imagined such a location to be—a purgatory fit for a King. But the truth is I was too dead to notice much of anything. Death is just that. Blackness. Nothingness. Sleep without dreams or even the knowledge of sleep at all. I awoke from my first death not understanding where I’d been for the last few years. I awoke from my second death close to the same.                  I opened my eyes to find a light shining into them.                  “Can you hear me?” a voice asked from some dark part of the room.                  I licked my dry lips. “How many years has it been?” Suddenly my mind was alight with what had happened prior. “Is Celestia still alive? Has she been stopped?”                  “You’ve been dead for two hours, Sombra.”                  No, my sleepy self thought. I didn’t hear that right.                  “Two thousand years?” I asked meekly.                  “Two hours, Sombra. And I honestly expected better of you.”                  The doctor that had been shining his pocket light in my bleary eyes backed away and I found myself in the same room as before. Four glaring alicorns sat before me. While Luna merely looked bored, Celestia looked mad. Her ever flowing mane seeming to slow to rival her mood.                  “I gave you the simplest of jobs,” she continued, “to try and assimilate you back into the world. You couldn’t last even half an hour without killing yourself. That was foolish on your part, Sombra. If all we needed the first time to bring you back was a piece of your horn, what makes you think that your crushed carcass would somehow prove more difficult? It was wrong of you to do and it was wrong of myself to allow you such freedom. You could have seriously hurt or killed some innocent bystander below.”                  “You think I didn’t try?” I asked, barring a fang. This was still around the time I thought she’d actually cave once met with mild resistance.                  Celestia ignored my jab. “It took us only two hours to bring you back, Sombra. It would have been even shorter but we broke for lunch once I had someone scrape what remained of you off the pavement. You might have thought you were showing contention by your actions but you have only tempted me to double my efforts. I will not be the one to give up on you, Sombra. There is good in you, and I will find it.”                  I found my head aching something horrible around the edges of my horn—most likely where I’d first smashed into the earth. “I assure you, Celestia, there is no good in me to find.”                  “We have all the time in the world, Sombra. And I have never been one to give up easily.”                  “I’ll find a way out.”                  “If death was your first attempt, I can’t imagine what’ll come next. If you kill yourself again, we’ll only bring you back. There is no way out of this.”                  Suddenly I found it very hard to breathe. Suddenly something warm forced its way behind both of my eyes. I said stubbornly, “But I don’t want to be good.”                  Celestia held no pity in her stare. “Then you should have thought of that before you enslaved an entire race and held them under your rule.”                  Instead of arguing more, I sat in silence and waited for things to come to a close. Trying to verbally combat Celestia when she had her mind on something was akin to striking a solid wall with a rubber ball. It would only bounce back and hit you in the face, before the notion of something larger and heavier came to mind.                  Since the work day was still in mid-motion, I was led back to my little counter and this time a royal guard was stationed only feet away from me. As much as I wanted to glare and to intimidate Celestia’s repugnant tool, an overwhelming chill in my stomach caused me to merely swirl a quill around a lone piece of paper, perhaps trying to determine just how much magic I was being granted. It was sadly not enough to give me much hope.   REGARDING THE COLOR OF FRIENDSHIP   Only an hour later did a servant of Celestia’s come and throw a white dress shirt with snap buttons on top of my counter. They told me the Princess had wanted me to fit the part and perhaps not appear as menacing as I would without it. Since I knew any such resistance would only end in Celestia’s personal visit to my desk (and I had seen enough of the white alicorn to last me at least another dozen deaths by that point), I took the shirt and slipped it on. For ten minutes I fumbled with the buttons until my personal guard came around and did them up with his horn. Somehow I had gone from a menacing King to a helpless fool in less than a day.                  When he was done he told me, “You know they put up a sign outside because of you.”                  I couldn’t tell if he was trying to rouse me or simply trying to chat. “What sign?”                  “A blackened silhouette of you falling through the air. It says ‘Watch out for falling villains’. I doubt Celestia knows of it, though. I think it’s just a joke.”                  I thought of knifes and hooks and rusty nails and somehow calmed myself down. The guard then pushed over a small name tag.                  “You’re supposed to wear this, too, I guess.”                  I read what it said. The first line stated: “Canterlot Reception,” and below that: “SOMBRA”. In much smaller font than the first two lines was one last word below: “Trainee.” With what magic I had left in store I added an uppercase “K.” in front of my name and threaded it to my shirt. When my guard came around to help once more I growled until he retreated. It was a small victory, but it would need to do for the time.                  Barely an hour later did I summon the same dunderhead over.                  “I’m cold,” I said bluntly.                  “It’s not cold in here,” he answered, before peering through the set of glass doors. “It’s beautiful outside and almost stifling in here.”                  I didn’t budge. “That’s because you’re wearing your uniform and standing near the door. I have a thin shirt on and sit in the shadows behind this desk. Perhaps a blanket or a… large cloth of some kind would be nice. Maybe a red one.”                  The guard only stood where he was, his eyes working away on hidden notions inside.                  I then sealed the deal. “I sure would feel the power of friendship if you’d do me such a kindness. I’m sure Celestia would just love to hear how much we’ve bonded, you and I.”                  Something bright blossomed in his head. He regarded me sourly. “You’re not going to try for the roof again, are you?”                  I scanned my desk. “You see how far it got me the last time?” I smiled at him, as bright as I could. It hurt my face but I did it anyways.                  “All right. But stay there and don’t do anything.” He then turned to leave.                  “Something red would be nice!” I yelled after him, as I watched him ascend a set of stairs.                  The plan had never been to escape from Canterlot castle that day or any such thing. I knew after my first sudden trip from the sky, Celestia would be visibly—or at least mentally—monitoring my whereabouts. The only thing I wanted at that moment was to feel a modicum bit better. Maybe if I looked a little more like myself I might not feel so glum. It’s truly amazing how many times I can set myself up, only to be deplorably shot down.                  No more than three minutes had winded by before my guard returned with a blanket that pained my already sore head to look upon. It was bright pink and even the stitches that held it together were of an even gaudier pink thread.                  The guard tossed it to my counter. “Here you go.”                  “This isn’t red,” I said. “This is as far away from red as I could hope to imagine.”                  “I know,” he replied. “But it’s the only color Princess Celestia would give. She said it’s the color of friendship.”                  I scooped up a batch of the painful cloth and held it up to him. “You know what else this color is of?”                  “What?”                  “Defeat.” Then I threw it to the floor.   REGARDING MY SUPERVISOR   As if my lone guard wasn’t enough to keep my butt in the only seat they’d given me, my second day on the job I was met with another member of the guard—a higher ranking one, I was told (although I have yet to believe it). His name has something to do with Sentry and I can’t help but get the feeling I give him the creeps. While it is a nice observation to note that I can indeed still instill fear into those around me even without my menacing power, it sadly has not been enough to keep Sentry wholly out of my mane.                  After a hasty introduction he decided if I was to direct visiting ponies to differing locations inside Canterlot castle, I should at least know of its many nooks and crannies. I started our short tour keeping step with the blue haired guard, but then slowed to a crawl once I realized I’d only be taken back to my desk once it was all said and done. For close to forty minutes I watched a ceiling-high curtain blow in the outside breeze. “What are you looking at, Sombra?” he had asked, curious if I was up to some new form of villainy. “A fool,” I had responded, staring daggers into him. I knew the moment I had said such a blunt observation I had made a mistake. Thirty seconds later I was back in my cell down below, ordered to add the date and other mind-numbing specifics to a number of scrolls that were to go directly to Princess Celestia. After eating the first few dry pages in pure defiance, my original guard aided by Sentry positioned themselves on either sides of my chair.                  It seemed I wasn’t being as friendly as some had hoped.   REGARDING NOTORIETY   It didn’t take all that long for most of Equestria to discover what had happened to their dead King from the north. Upon discovery that I was being reintegrated into the world, most of the majority were more than pleased I was being put to use instead of spending tax payer bits lulling around in Tartarus. (I wouldn’t agree with that, but that’s just me.) At first the influx of curious gawkers annoyed me to no end, and for a good portion of the time I’d only brood in my seat while my guard or Something Sentry would fend off their questions or queries. A few even brought flashing boxes that I was told captured a likeness of oneself on a slip of shiny paper. Although I’d never admit to such pandering, I nevertheless turned my head to the right a bit to capture what I’d always considered my better side. (But neither half of my face is half bad.)                  A few days of this treatment later and I found the need to break the silence. It was too weird to be stared at and not understand why. Most just wanted to hear me speak and I was—oddly—happy to oblige. When was the last time I’d actually spoken to a crowd? My usual rhetoric used to spew forth to thousands in my Crystal home and even then I’d wonder where the other thousands had hid. The foyer of the Canterlot castle could hold anywhere between thirty and fifty guests, and yet it felt like much more. For a time I answered questions regarding my job and current predicament, but soon I felt it only fitting to comment on the elephant in the castle.                  “What Celestia has told you about me are nothing but false injustices,” I started, unaware how fast my guard and Something Sentry could move once prodded. “I have no intention of befriending Equestria one simple tool at a time—I only wait patiently until the moment comes to strike. Enjoy the tranquil view of the beast for now, my fools, because once out from your simpleton of a ruler’s hoof, I won’t hesitate pealing the skin from your children’s—”                  Phhtph! Suddenly I tasted floor. And blood. And now all four of my legs were being pulled behind my back, even when I didn’t think they were supposed to bend that way. “Owwww!” I yelled to the ground, even though no one seemed to be listening.                  While my guard more or less sat atop of me, holding me in place, Something Sentry regarded the rest of the room. “Sombra apologizes for the comments he’s just made. It’s been a long day and—”                  “No I don’t!” I yelled through bloodstained teeth. That was when my guard shifted his weight towards my head, smashing my muzzle into the dirty floor behind my counter. Having been tasked with cleaning the area every few days, I had no one to blame but myself when an entire lint ball got sucked up my nose.                  “And Sombra will be taking the rest of the day off,” he finished, a wonderful amount of unease in his voice. Oops, I had mused on that pleasant day. Someone’s day just got a bit more interesting.   REGARDING PURPLE ALICORNS   It was my third day in that pit called a job when my tormentor threw another knife into my gut. Even if Celestia would never dare mention of such a ploy, I had no notions of why a certain little purple alicorn would suddenly visit unless under orders. Regardless, she played a good game.                  “You look bored,” she told me, when she must have grown tired of watching me stare through her as though she didn’t exist. “You want to help me with a crossword puzzle?”                  It was weird to hear a glass door talk with such directness and sense of self but I ignored it anyways. Sadly, she did not give me the same level of courtesy.                  “You want to help me with a crossword puzzle?” she asked again.                  It was clear she had nothing else to do that day.                  I said, “I don’t know what that is and I wouldn’t want to either.”                  This did not lead to the outcome I had foreseen.                  “Great! Then I’ll teach you!”                  From somewhere beyond my vision she plucked out a thin book that she set on my desk. A well-worn page held an image of dozens of boxes, some darkened and some left open, others with letters filling them. Underneath were lines of questions in organized columns.                  “We’ll take turns,” she said, genuinely invested. “I’ll answer a question and then you’ll do one—and we’ll see if we can finish it! These are fun ways to pass the time, you know.”                  “I was doing fine on my own, purple pony,” I tell the remarkably interesting glass door behind her head. I mumble to myself, “I was doing a lot of things fine on my own without you lot of alicorns…”                  The purple one scowled at me. “You’ll never make friends that way, Sombra.”                  “Then mission accomplished,” I spat back.                  She rolled her eyes and viewed her word game. “Down, eight letter word, creator of the wind chime.” She tapped her quill against her chin for a moment before filling in her answer. “Easy, it’s Songbird.” She paused. “All right, now yours. I’ll try and find the easiest one. Okay, this is pretty simple. Across, eleven letters, aerial relay team from Cloudsdale. Sombra?”                  “Songbird,” I said.                  “That was the answer to the last one.”                  “Was it? Let’s try ‘Celestia.’ I know she enjoys it when ponies say her name repeatedly, even when she’s not around.”                  “That’s not even eleven letters.” A hint of irritation had finally entered her voice.                  “Then let’s try ‘the Celestia.’ Much better.”                  The alicorn then slammed her book to the counter. “You know we’re only trying to help you with all this.”                  I leaned back in my chair, enjoying the luxurious view of annoyed small alicorn. “You should not help what never asked to be helped in the first place, pony. You can’t change what is in a villain’s true nature.”                  “So you’re telling me you started evil the moment you entered Equestria?”                  “Yes. And if you were wise you’d either give me back my magic or silence me forever, because nothing you do or say can sway what I plan on doing to you all once given the opportunity. You awoke a sleeping dragon that was meant to slumber forever, and then you decided to try and remove his fire and claws and get him to do some yard work. But I’m afraid it doesn’t work that way.”                  She shook her head at me. “Discord would disagree.”                  I exhaled loudly. “Oh, yes. The first of the reformations. Since I have yet to see him I can only assume he’s not actually allowed in public—if he even exists at all. I can only wonder about the horrors you’ve all done to him; the years of abuse. How much of a working brain does he even have left?”                  “I don’t know how much of a brain Discord ever started with, but I know he’s capable of having a heart. It was Celestia’s idea to have him reformed and it’s hers that brought you back to life—twice. I trust her and to an extent I’ll need to trust you.” She slid her letter game towards me forcefully. “Twenty-six down, six letters. You should know this one.” Then she left without her book.                  For awhile I thought of flinging it against the wall like the pink blanket they had tried to dress me in before, but a small thread of curiosity brought me back to that damned fine print. After hurting my eyes searching near the bottom of the page, I eventually found the question she had mentioned.                  Six letters: Overthrown ruler of the Crystal Empire. From other answers S _ M B _ _ was already filled in. Using my quill I answered the rest, before hastily adding “KING” right before it, covering close to half the page in splotchy script. Then I flung it to the floor.                  I had never felt as hollow as at that moment.