//------------------------------// // 17. Escape from the Facet Rule - Part 3 // Story: BPT: A Midnight Stroll through Time // by Wolven5 //------------------------------// “What. Am. I… Doing?!” Midnight whispered in squirming hesitation as he was sneaking towards the stockades where the crystal slaves were kept. Prince Sombra had been very clear in what Midnight had to do, and it involved the use of dark magic. When Midnight had protested, Sombra had reasoned it was necessary because a lot of the tyrant Sombra’s security measures had been powered by dark magic. Midnight recalled how Twilight had to use dark magic circumvent Sombra’s traps in the citadel to get to the Crystal Heart, so he had to admit it made sense the Sombra of this time had done the same. Prince Sombra had given him a lot of helpful advice and instructions on what to do, and had even written out a few useful spells for Midnight to use. As they’d talked, Midnight asked, what had happened to Scorpan? Did he succeed in alerting the Sisters of Tirek? Sombra was all too happy to tell Midnight had (more or less) preserved history. Scorpan had indeed failed to sway his brother and reluctantly alerted the Sisters of Tirek’s transgressions. The Sisters stopped Tirek, sucked him dry of the magic he’d stolen and sentenced him to Tartarus for life. They thanked Scorpan and invited him to stay in Equestria, but to their surprise Scorpan politely turned them down, saying he had to go back to his homeland and restore it to its former glory. He’d learned his lesson that, if there’s something wrong with your home you don’t run away from it or waste time blaming others, that you should do everything within your power to fix the problem. The Sisters insisted on thanking Scorpan by giving him magic to help get started in his goals, and as far as they knew Star Swirl had been the one to get Scorpan to change his mind. Midnight was glad Scorpan had listened to him, and had parted with the Sisters on good terms. But right now he had to focus on finding Autumn Wheat. He’d used several spells to prepare himself, and was virtually non-existent as far as the guards knew. He’d made himself invisible, cast a silencing spell on himself, had a sensor to alert him of any nearby wards or traps, he’d even cast a spell to make him scentless. Maybe it was silly to think these guards would smell him but better safe than sorry. Finding the stockades wasn’t hard. All midnight had to do was eavesdrop on the guards and follow whoever was going to check on the slaves. The stockades were a large enclosure with the crystal walls being as sharp and jagged on top as broken glass. Nopony was gonna try and escape over that! Each corner of the enclosure was a watchtower, everything was dark, and the only reason Midnight could conjecture as to why the guards didn’t light the place up was perhaps the mind-control was giving them night-vision. That was devious idea honestly. The slaves couldn’t see in the dark and by keeping them in the dark they would be too afraid to try anything, for fear a guard might be watching them from a shadowy corner, ready to punish them. Only the moon and stars provided any light but it wasn’t enough to wash away the darkness surrounding the place. Deciding to get a better look, Midnight Flashed to the top of a tower and peered down. He was sad to see all the slaves chained to walls, posts, the stallions and mares and foals were kept away from each other. There were no whispers but there were sounds of shivering and Midnight realized these poor souls were cold. This place was in the Frozen North after all, and apparently neither King Sombra nor the guards had been kind enough to offer any fire or blankets. So the slaves huddled together to share body-warmth. It was cruel, not only because they were left out in the cold but because there were certainly families being kept apart. Husbands and wives, parents and children, brothers and sisters, or simply friends. But suddenly, Midnight realized something. I can see them! It was certainly dark but still, Midnight could see! He’d never been able to see in the dark before, not even when he’d absorbed energy from the moon. I am changing, Midnight thought as he recalled being exposed to the magic Luna used to transform her foals into the first lunar ponies. But he couldn’t be distracted now. Midnight had to find Autumn Wheat but then he felt a twinge of guilt – He was here to save only one pony, which meant he was abandoning the rest to suffer King Sombra’s tyranny. He wanted so much to help them all but the consequences of biting off more than he could chew were too dire. The unfavorable effects on history aside, the more ponies he tried to help escape the worse chance the escape had of succeeding, and if they were caught Midnight didn’t even want to think what King Sombra would do to them. He shook his head to get it back in the now as he wondered how he was gonna find Autumn Wheat among all these prisoners. As luck would’ve had it, the tower he stood upon sounded like somepony was inside and his hearing, to his surprise, was much keener as he heard voices. “…so interesting about that mare, anyway?” asked a gruff voice. “I dunno, the king keeps her in solitary confinement, away from the rest of the slaves,” replied one indifferent. “Well sure she’s a looker but he can just pluck any mare he wants out of all the slaves, why would he take this one and keep her in a single cell with the same guards keeping vigil on her every time?” “Better question is, why those guards have to be us?” the second voice sighed in a grumbled tone. “I’d rather be patrolling the streets or keeping the slaves underhoof than listening to that incessant sobbing!” “Well, we might as well head over to the cell,” the first voice groaned. “His Majesty will be almost done by now.” Following the guards was easy enough although Midnight had to be careful not to bump into anything or get too close. The guards unknowingly led him down a long winding staircase descending beneath the stockades. Seriously, it was just plain ridiculous the number of steps that Midnight just stopped counting after step four-hundred-&-eighty-six. Finally, they came to a door and Midnight observed as the guards’ eyes flared a purple miasma, and the door faded out of existence to reveal an empty threshold, into which he followed them. Even so he just barely slipped in before the door faded back into existence and came quite close to bumping into the guard in front of him. They walked down a dreary hallway, alit with torchlight that burned the same cursed flames Midnight had seen outside. Immediately, Midnight felt his sensor spell go off and he realized those torches were meant to provide something else besides light. He halted before actually entering the torchlight and reached out with his power. He bit his lip when his touch merely brushed against whatever his spell had forewarned him, the touch sending a brief yet intense burning pain along his horn! Dark magic…! Midnight realized that these torches burning cursed flames was some kind of security measure. He’d only allowed his aura to reach out into the torchlight, he wasn’t sure he wanted to step into it. Unfortunately, the guards ahead were getting further away every second and every second Midnight dallied increased the chances of getting caught or even losing the guards. They were his quickest bet at finding Autumn Wheat. Thinking fast, he then wondered if it was magic itself affected by the torchlight, not the body. The guards walked right through it without any problems. Either the torchlight burned at good magic or it burned at someone who was not tainted with dark magic. The only way to find out, to Midnight’s discomfort, was to use a dark spell. Midnight recalled what he once said to Star Swirl when the wizard admonished his use of dark magic, Only as a last resort. It was true. Midnight was afraid of dark magic. The first time he’d used it was back before the Whisperer made itself known, and using dark magic for the first time caused the bad dreams to burn into mind-breaking nightmares! Not only that. Midnight had studied dark magic well enough to know that to use it the caster has to draw upon the darkest parts of their hearts. They had to draw upon rage, hate, fear, the worst emotions, acknowledge the sides of one’s self so ugly that they had tried for so long to pretend those sides weren’t there. For this, Midnight had no choice. He took a deep breath and thought of everything he’d seen so far since his arrival in the empire. He drew upon the anger at the guards for how horrible they treated the crystal ponies, how they kept them apart, the crying of the foals making him seethe as he felt the tempting corruption bubble around his horn, purplish miasma flowing from his eyes instead of tears. It was painful, like a persistent migraine that wouldn’t go away, but Midnight managed to keep his thoughts centered and maintain the dark magic. Well… here goes! He slowly stepped forward into the torchlight and found it felt like a light breeze was blowing against him uncomfortably. Somehow he knew this was the dark magic of the torches flowing over him like water over a stone. Seeing the guards were almost out of sight, Midnight inhaled and soldiered on. He would have to be even more careful. He’d had to break his invisibility spell and the spell muffling his steps in order to cast the dark magic. So he kept his distance but made sure the guards were always in sight. They took a left turn and passed by several heavy doors that looked to be made of metal rather than crystal, with small barred windows in each door. He heard despaired moans and soft crying from each of them but forced himself to ignore them. Finally, they came to a larger door through which the soldiers just walked in, Midnight following and seeing it was a round room with small pedestals holding crystal busts of King Sombra. In the center of the room, on the very floor, was a hole wide enough for a stallion to lower himself through but it was so dark there was no telling how deep it was. Midnight hid behind one of the pedestals as he recalled what his master had told him. This was an oubliette, a type of dungeon where the only way in or out was a hole in the ceiling and that hole in the floor undoubtedly led to the cell where Autumn Wheat was being held. It was a terrible kind of dungeon where the one way out is literally just beyond one’s reach. Midnight watched as the guards took a position on each side of the hole, and he wondered what they were doing, only for his question to be answered as he felt a most unpleasant itch in his horn! Prince Sombra had been able to teach a method of magical sense that he didn’t have to maintain and focus on, but simply be aware. This sense instantly told him that something dark was about to come out of that hole, and he was right. The hole glowed a feverish green before the tyrant himself arose the darkness, his eyes entirely green, flowing with miasma. To Midnight’s surprise, the king had forgone his armor but retained his crown and cape. Seeing his master like this was just as how he remembered him when he first met Sombra outside the Crystal Empire after its return to the world. Of course, this Sombra was not his master. This Sombra was a monster out of his mind. Overshadowed by an evil born from the madness of the arrogance of hundreds of ponies who reached too far and went over the edge. He felt that same fear he had felt when he first met Sombra, a fear cold, primordial, a fear that made him feel like a mouse in the shadow of an owl. The guards bowed before their king as he snarled, “Your orders stand. The prisoner does not leave this cell.” “Yes, Your Majesty,” the guards answered in a monotone, as though they had no emotion. Sombra tossed his mane back and started for the door when he suddenly stopped. Midnight flinched and hid entirely behind the pedestal, holding his breath and hoping his pounding heart did not betray his presence. Sombra wasn’t sure but he thought he had sensed something. For the briefest moment, it had felt like a glowing ember flittering through his darkness but then it snuffed out. Gone yet lingering, like smoke. Growling softly, he left the cell and from behind the pedestal, Midnight exhaled in relief. “Y’know, it’s a crock the way he has us guarding this one mare,” grumbled one of the guards, Midnight snapping to attention as he carefully peeked out. “If we’re in charge of her, maybe… we should take advantage of that.” “And risk her blabbing to the king?” the other guard replied rhetorically. “He’d geld us just for looking at her the wrong way. So keep it in your sheath.” Midnight narrowed his eyes in contempt as he carefully snuck to the back of the room, to the wall opposite the door. He took a deep breath as he stepped out, the guards facing the door and not seeing him, as he whispered. Armored warriors led astray Your sinful hearts turned from the day You have discharged your promise bold So sleep you now, grow still, grow cold! Midnight’s horn gave off a magical effect that for a moment made the room temperature drop to zero, the guards shivering. But the moment they breathed it in, they gasped and fell unconscious. Midnight snorted as he walked over, no longer concerned with the guards and peered down the hole. It was pitch black but his ears picked up slight shuffling sounds, clinks of chains, and sniffling. He enveloped himself in his aura and slowly floated down. Midnight was surprised by how long it took, and shivered at the dropping temperature. It made him fear how anypony could survive this far underground, but soon he noticed a glow beneath and dropped into a small space. He saw the source of the glow was a small brazier, providing enough light to see. He crinkled his nose when he smelled the unmistakable rank of stale urine and noticed an empty bucket against the wall. He had an idea of what it was for when the occupant of the room earned his attention. The figure was huddled against the wall, wrapped in a threadbare cloak, chained to the wall by a collar around their neck. “Please… just go away…” whispered a fearful voice unmistakably female. “Autumn Wheat?” Midnight inquired, the prisoner gasping as she lowered her hood. She was pretty, as far as sad sacks go. Her coat was a pale gray-blue, her mane a dull mulberry, and her eyes blue like a cornflower. She gazed up at Midnight in astonishment, and Midnight understood this probably felt for her to be too good to be true. She whispered fearfully, “Wh-who are you…?” Midnight answered by casting a floating ball of light and warmth that the crystal mare raised her hooves towards yet squinted her eyes, Midnight quickly dulling the light a little so it wouldn’t hurt her vision. “I am Midnight Blaze,” he answered. “But please answer me, are you Autumn Wheat?” “Y-yes, I am!” she breathed in, enjoying the warmth of Midnight’s light ball, “Are-are you here to rescue us?” “…No, Autumn. I am here to rescue you,” Midnight explained. “I am a travelling magician and sensed when your king fell to darkness some time ago. As I observed and investigated, I had a vision. I foresaw you escaping the empire to warn the Royal Sisters of Sombra’s tyranny over the crystal ponies.” “Me…?” Autumn found this hard to believe but then she pressed, “But why can you not help the rest of us?! The foals, the elderly-” Midnight raised a hoof to calm her down. “I am sorry, Autumn, but I cannot fight an entire army of mind-controlled crystal ponies to liberate you all. I am here by myself, and I lack the resources and power I would need to rescue the rest of the crystal ponies. I dare risk rescuing only you. The larger the group the easier it is to track them down. Autumn, you must trust me, I intend to get you away from the empire and escort you to the Castle of the Two Sisters. There you can beseech the princesses for help, help I am confident they will be willing to give.” “…I don’t know,” Autumn looked away hesitantly. “Autumn, think of your friends, your family, your neighbors up above in the stockades,” Midnight insisted. “There’s no telling how long any of them will last, how long before they drop dead from overwork in the crystal mines! I cannot just go to the Sisters and tell them what’s going without proof, because even though I’d be telling the truth it’s a matter of foreign affairs. The empire is an independent state from Equestria. Unless you yourself share the tragedies befalling the crystal ponies, I cannot convince the Sisters to take action. Please, Autumn, be brave, for your people!” For a few long moments, Autumn said nothing, too afraid to meet Midnight’s gaze, as he looked at her hopefully. For a minute he thought she would refuse, when she said, “I’ll do it. But first, there’s something I have to get from my home before we leave the empire.” Escaping the oubliette and the stockades was far easier than infiltrating it. Midnight was relieved when he was able to teleport himself and Autumn out without any trouble. It appeared Sombra didn’t ward the dungeon against teleportation, and why would he? Crystal ponies couldn’t use active magic like him. Once they made it outside, Midnight and Autumn stayed close as she directed them to her house. They slipped right under the guards’ noses thanks to Midnight’s invisibility spells and before long they made it to Autumn’s neighborhood. A sensor spell told Midnight there were no guards about so they risked stepping into the open as Autumn took it in. Her neighborhood, much of the homes ransacked, shattered, wrecked. Her home turned out to be no exception. She sniffled a little to see her house broken, Midnight patting her on the withers as he felt bad for her. “Go inside and get what you need, I’ll stand guard.” “Thank you,” Autumn whispered as she hesitantly went in, ducking under some wreckage in the doorway. Midnight peered down the streets, looking for any sign of movement. He was on full-alert, determined to succeed in this most vital of missions. He wasn’t sure how long the enchanted sleep he’d cast upon the guards would last but he didn’t wanna find out and only hoped it would be a while. Except it had been a while since he cast the spell, so any moment hose guards could wake up, maybe notice Autumn was gone, and raise the alarm. There was something else bothering Midnight. By removing Autumn from the empire, she would not be here when Sombra’s curse made it disappear for a thousand years! She would never again see her friends and family. Once the empire came back, for them it would’ve been a blink of an eye and Autumn would be a thousand years dead. He was tempted to tell her the truth, but how could he? How could he tell her everything she knows, everyone she loves, would vanish from existence and she would be long gone when it returned? At the very least, he owed her the chance to recover something from her life in the empire before it disappeared into thin air. “I’m ready.” He turned to see Autumn exiting the house, a long red scarf wrapped snuggly around her neck. Midnight knew what it was before Autumn explained, “This scarf was given to me by Sombra… right before he was lost. It had long been his dearest treasure although I don’t know why. But I wanted to bring it with me, so I could always remember him.” “I’m surprised,” Midnight commented in understanding, “that given what he’s done you don’t hate him.” “I don’t hate him…” Autumn whispered as a tear went down her face. To Midnight’s surprise, the tear literally crystalized and fell from Autumn’s face, landing on the ground with a faint tinkle. “I hate what he’s become.” Midnight wished with all his heart he could give some words of comfort other than promises of getting her away. He wished he could promise she would see her family again. But it would be a lie. “Come on, let’s go.” From his throne, the tyrant’s eyes snapped open as he sensed something. "Unicorn magic...?!" he growled before roaring for his guards!