//------------------------------// // Chapter Thirteen : Fireside Confidentiality // Story: CoH (Book One) : Of Magic and Masquerades // by Diespitris //------------------------------// Twilight let out an agitated grunt as she glared daggers at the crystal floating in front of her face. It was a small, jagged stone that Sombra had mined out of the deeper caverns. He had also imbued it with dark magic, and left her alone for the past hour and a half so he could search the depths for more crystals. So far, she had no luck in breaking the stone; either her own dark magic would bounce right off its surface, or it would have no effect at all. If only her teacher actually taught her how to shatter the crystal, but, no, all he said before leaving was, “Reach inside the gem. Use your dark magic to unravel its magic from within.” Clearly, he expected her to simply disenchant the stone. She knew how to do that, but not while wielding dark magic. It was frustrating. And yet, the reason for the lack of instruction was not lost on her. Sombra was giving her the chance to figure it out on her own. Unfortunately, it was a teaching method to which Twilight wasn't accustomed. Princess Celestia taught her what she knew through both lectures and demonstrations. Other than that, the unicorn learned new spells through tomes, trial, and error. Her current task was similar to the latter, sans any form of reference material. Or demonstration. She thought that being a student of the esteemed Starswirl the Bearded would have taught Sombra a thing or two about teaching. She mentally scolded herself. No, no. I shouldn't think like that. Sombra was very kind to tutor me. She then sighed. Although, I wish there was more “tutoring” actually involved. Returning her attention to the crystal, Twilight again channeled her corrupted power. Come on, break! Her horn slowly became illuminated with a sinister glow, which slowly wrapped around the stone. She tried once more to get inside it—to find out how to undo the dark magic that was rooted within. Again, she had trouble finding the fine threads of magic that were hidden in the murk. No wonder dark magic was so tricky and troublesome; the inner workings were concealed quite well. Okay, that was a good start. The threads were there, she needed only to find and sever them. It was easier said than done, however, especially when the strain began to eat away at her. Once the headache began, she ceased the search for the microscopic filaments and she growled in agitation. “Stupid gem!” she groaned, tossing the item out of her sight. When the resulting crash and bang reached her ears, she realized she'd thrown it with excessive force. One of Sombra's bookshelves was now flat on the ground—its contents spilled across the cold soil. Twilight ran a hoof down her face. “Drat,” she breathed. Every fiber of her book-loving being dreaded the mess she made, and she immediately set about fixing it. She righted the bookshelf to its original position against the wall of rock. Then, she looked over the tomes scattered at her hooves. “I'm sorry,” she said to them. “Let's put you all back where you belong.” Smiling, she cautiously encased them in her magical grasp. Sombra possessed a rather interesting collection. Many of the tomes had no title or author, leading her to believe that they were his journals, and when they did she wasn't too surprised to see that they were written by Starswirl the Bearded. Between the two, there were authors whose names she didn't recognize. Yet, it was clear that Sombra was a stallion who fancied literature pertaining to the arcane. His library is pretty much outdated, other than Starswirl's work, she thought. She lined up the books around her in a circle, before she began to set them back on the shelves in alphabetical order. Only when every row was properly placed did Twilight take notice of the piece of paper that had slipped from one of Sombra's journals. Curious, she picked it up. It was another sketch, though one that was heavily enchanted with protective spells. It portrayed an earth mare holding a small foal in one of her forelegs. Judging by the decorations in her mane and the flowing gown she wore, Twilight assumed that she was a crystal earth mare. Her child, on the other hoof, was a unicorn. The medium of ink possessed no color, so there was nothing more to the imagination than what was there. Not that the lack of color made it any less intriguing. She's beautiful. Who is this pony? She's obviously somepony important. The sound of approaching hoofsteps made Twilight's head turn towards the entrance to the deeper caverns. Surely enough, Sombra soon emerged—a bundle of gemstones bundled together in his cloud of emerald magic. They met each other's gaze, prompting him to set the stones aside. “Did you give up already, Twilight?” he asked, brushing the dust from his cloak. “Uh, yeah,” she sheepishly replied. She glanced over her shoulder at the bookshelf. “I also ended up making a mess...” “Oh?” “Yeah, but I cleaned it up! Unfortunately, this” —she held up the sketch— “fell out when I was tidying up. I'm sorry.” Sombra suddenly appeared perplexed as he gently took the paper from her. Upon seeing the image, however, his puzzled countenance changed into one of subtle melancholy. “Ah, I remember this,” he whispered. He smiled at her, and she felt a slight twinge in her heart at how sad he looked. “I thought I searched every single one of those journals for this, and I feared it was forever lost. Thank you for finding it, Twilight.” “Who is she?” she asked. Without a word, the stallion slowly walked to the fire and he sat to bask in the warmth. Twilight didn't press him for an answer. Yet, as soon as he was comfortably settled, he glanced at her and said, “She's my mother.” Twilight followed, and she took a place next to him—peering at the sketch. “She's beautiful,” she said. “What's her name?” Sombra's eyes remained fixated on the paper. “Sapphire Silk,” he replied softly. “She was a seamstress, as well as a noblemare. My father drew this shortly after my birth.” “Your parents were nobles?” Again, he glanced at her. “Well, yes and no. My mother was a noble, yes, but my father was not. He wasn't even a citizen of the empire. They did not marry, nor could they marry.” “Why? Did the crystal ponies forbid marriages between themselves and outsiders? Or was it simply because he wasn't a noble?” “No.” He shifted uncomfortably. “That's not it. Though he wasn't a noble, he was a widely-known unicorn and I'm sure that any family would have gladly accepted him. No, the main reason my parents could not marry was because my mother was already married.” Twilight's eyes widened, and her mouth formed a small “o” at the revelation. “That sounds... complicated,” she replied. He nodded. “It was, but it was my upbringing and I was used to it. My father remained in the Crystal Empire to take care of me. I spent most of my young life in his custody and I saw little of my mother.” He frowned. “My step-father... limited her visits with my father and I. I saw her only on certain holidays, my birthday, and whenever she managed to sneak away to see me.” She placed a hoof on his shoulder. “I'm sorry to hear that.” “Don't be sorry. I saw a lot more of her after my father left.” “He... He left you?” It was a simple question, and yet Twilight wished she could take it back. She didn't know what caused it, but she suddenly realized how tired her mentor appeared. His wavy mane was disheveled from his brief labor in the caverns, and his fur was matted with sweat and soil in some places. She supposed that it was, in fact, later than it seemed. “You don't have to answer that if you don't want to,” she added. “It's... too late at night for this kind of talk.” With a sober chuckle, Sombra turned his head towards her. “Thank you, Twilight, but it's not as painful as I make it seem,” he said. “I'm not afraid to confirm that he did leave me when I was young.” “Do you know what became of him?” “I'm afraid not, Twilight. I never saw him again.” Grunting, he pushed himself up onto his hooves; his joints, stiff as they were, popped and creaked as he moved. “Now, if you'll excuse me, it is late and I am quite tired. I hope you don't mind me calling it a night.” Twilight smiled. “I don't mind at all. Go get some sleep.” “What about you?” “I'm going to stay up a bit longer.” She looked towards her earlier target, which set nearby. “Maybe I'll try to disenchant that crystal one last time.” “Well, alright, but don't stay up too late. We still have a lot of work to do.” He smiled once more. “I'll demonstrate the proper technique in the morning. I'm sorry for not showing you earlier. I wanted to make sure that we had enough materials with which to train.” “Oh, it's fine. No need to apologize.” “Then, Twilight, I bid you goodnight.” Bowing his head, he turned away from her. He then sluggishly took his leave, which left his student alone near the fire. Her only company became her thoughts at that point. Wow, it sounds like he didn't have it too easy as a colt. His conception was unintentional, occurred out of infidelity, and the only reason he saw his mother at all was because his step-father allowed it. At least he had somepony to take care of him, even if it didn't last. I wonder why his father left. Was that when Starswirl—? No, that's not right. Sombra said that he knew Starswirl for as long as he could remember. That would be long before his father left, right? Her brow knitted together. Wait... Without realizing it, she slowly rose from her sitting position. He said his father was a unicorn, not a crystal pony. He was a well-known unicorn, who left him when he was only a colt. Starswirl did the same. Did two important ponies walk out of Sombra's life, never to be seen again... … or were they one and the same? “Sombra,” she called. She ran towards the stallion, who was still in sight. “Wait a minute. I have one last question.” Her mentor ceased his progress into the tunnel. “What is it, Twilight?” he asked, looking over his shoulder at her. “What was your father's name? You didn't mention it earlier.” His stare fell and, with a heavy, tired sigh, he continued walking. “Goodnight, Twilight,” he repeated. “I will see you come morning.” Twilight didn't ask the question again. Instead, she listened to the sound of his hoofsteps as they faded into the darkness. Reclaiming her spot near the fire, she stretched her body out on the warm soil—crossing her forelegs so that she could rest her head upon them. That was where she intended to remain. She knew, without a doubt, that she wasn't going to be getting any sleep that night. Sombra's lack of an answer only confirmed her mental guesswork, but now there were more questions buzzing around in her head that she wanted answered. Nonetheless, tomorrow was another day.