Freedom!
That was the song that was sung throughout the city-state, the freshly liberated empire. There wasn’t a single crystal pony, young or old that hadn’t heard the fantastic news.
The dark tyrant, wicked slave driver, sadistic dictator, mad unicorn, Sombra the terrible, was dead. Thanks to the bravery of the Elements of Harmony, the new Royal couple, and not to mention the great Sir Spike, the king was at last gone.
So, naturally, a celebration was called for – as well as talks of some reconstruction. Or rather, reconstructing the culture of the Empire, for, under the rule of Sombra, they couldn’t focus on anything else but staying alive. Scholars from inside the Empire flocked to the Crystal Archives and libraries in hopes to put the pieces together anything of cultural value they could find. They searched for literature, music, and art that predated Sombra. Naturally, they found scrolls and books of stories that date well over a thousand years, not to mention some journals and diaries, which was helpful in order to attempt to bring back some of the Empire’s previous celebrations and events.
However, during the first few days after Sombra’s fall, the scholars found something both curious and startling at the same time. It wasn’t so much of what they found, but rather what they couldn’t find. In every culture that ever existed, ponies have tried to record music so it could be played back on their instruments. While the Empire was able to recover a few musical instruments here and there, nowhere, in the whole city-state, did they find any trace of written music.
That was, until the fourth day after the death of the tyrant was when a couple of crystal guards made a shocking discovery. Around evening, after they were relieved of their duties, the two guards were making their way to their living quarters. They were walking down one of the palace’s crystallized hallways, their tired hooves making audible clop sounds on the crystal floors. One of the guards sighed, before turning to the other: “You know Defense; today’s training was really exhausting.”
“You don’t have to tell me, Offence,” Defense said, stopping for a moment. “Prince Armor’s training is doing a number on my legs.”
“Same here,” Offense agreed. He starting to lean up against the wall, “I don’t know about you, but my- GAH!” As soon as the guard’s yellow crystal coat touched the wall, he jumped, and so did Defense.
“Ah! What!?”
Offense looked back at the wall he’d leaned against; he went up to it to put a hoof on the slick wall. “Hey, feel this,” he told Defense.
Of course, Defense was confused but nonetheless complied. He placed his hoof on the wall next to that of his fellow guard. “Feel what? I don’t-”
“No, here,” Offense interrupted, gesturing to a particular spot a short distance to the left. Defense shifted his hoof the few inches, and immediately felt the difference. It was cold, extremely so. It was as if Defense had put his hoof on a block of solid winter.
“Do you feel it?” Offense asked.
“Yeah,” Defense said, feeling around the wall. “It’s freezing, but only right here.” Indeed, he felt around the cold spot on the wall. What was odd about it, was that the spot itself was about the size of a- “Is this... a door?”
Offense didn’t answer. He had spotted something on the floor, in the light of the corridor; a square outline next to the freezing door, almost like a near-invisible tile. He pressed down on it with a hoof, and the tile sank into the floor about an inch before an audible Crack emanated from the wall.
The two guards were blasted with arctic air as the hidden door was opened. A piece of the wall slowly opened, other than the sound of paper rustling from behind, it was oddly quiet. They peered inside, only to find a charcoal abyss yawning out at them. Offense and Defense glanced at each other nervously. “Should one of us go in there?” Defense asked. “This might be something left over from Sombra’s reign.”
It was then that they heard a noise that came from the darkness. It was the instantly recognizable sound of a foal whimpering. It was clear to both of them that someone was in there, and they knew that one of them had to investigate.
“Perhaps we should get some backup,” Offense suggested. “After all, this could be a trap, for all we know.”
“Or maybe this might be some sorta hidden torture chamber.” Defense looked into the doorway once more. “I’ll go in. If the door closes on me, go get help.”
Offense nodded, and Defense cautiously made his way through the doorway. It took a moment to have his eyes become accustomed to the freezing darkness. If anything, the temperature was the first thing he noticed. The cold surrounded him on all sides, the frosty air biting into his crystalline body. When his eyes adjusted, the very first thing he could make out was a pipe organ. The instrument stood in the corner of the room, gleaming even in the dim light, nearly touching the high, vaulted ceiling. All around him, in piles and scattered on the floor, were scrolls, empty bottles of ink, as well as a few broken quills and candles long burnt out. Defense could see that it wasn’t just one room, but that the dark space extended outwards, other rooms connected to form what could almost be described as an apartment. Yet, as the crystal guard explored, he found that there were a few other peculiarities. There were absolutely no doors for privacy and not a single window that showed the outside. Where one would expect windows to be, he instead found murals of a grassy, sunny kingdom outside.
Passing by the art, Defense zoned in where the weeping was coming from. The closer he got to the source of the sound, the stronger the scent of smoke became. In a bedroom on the left, wrapped in thin blankets by a dying fire, the guard could spot a horn poking out.
“Hello?” Defense said, but the shivering pony didn’t respond. “Are you alright?” he asked, cautiously approaching the pile of blankets. He already knew about the defusing spells meant to eliminate the former king’s evil magic. There were rumors of what kind of spells that were found, from doors that open to one’s worst nightmare to a pony who was almost got hopelessly lost in a maze. So being in a hidden apartment, he’d have to be careful.
Defense removed some of the layers of icy blankets away to find a colt underneath. At the same time, nearly jumped back in shock; the young stallion had a gray mane and a white coat. His lips, ears, and the tips of his hooves had turned a light shade of blue. But the violently shivering unicorn held some resemblance to someone familiar. Up close, Defense could see that the colt’s horn was smooth, his mane long, and the guard could have sworn that he could see pointed teeth.
“Offense!” he called out to his fellow guard, “Offense! Get in here!”
“What is it?” Offense voice called back before Defense heard his trotting hoofsteps.
“In here, I’ve found something!”
Moments later, the yellow crystal guard found the room that his purple companion was in. He too, saw what was bundled up by the fireplace and gasped. “Wha… Who is this?”
“I don’t know,” Defense said, turning back to the freezing colt on the floor, “Whoever it is, doesn't he look like, you-know-who?”
Offence cringed, “Yeah… What do we do?”
“Get him out of here, I suppose,” Defense said, craning his neck down to get the mysterious colt out from the blankets. “Help me out; he’s almost as cold as this place,” Reluctantly, Offense did. He helped to get the colt onto Defense’s back.
They left the icy apartment and headed towards the infirmary part of the palace to get the colt warmed up. Once when the young unicorn was put on in a warm bed and had him being watched over, the guards went directly to the royal couple’s living quarters to bring them the news of their discovery.
Offense knocked a few times before Cadence opened the door. “Your Majesty,” both guards said as they took a bow.
“Good evening,” the Princess of Love nodded respectively, “Is something the matter?”
“Yes Princess,” Offense said, “We hope to speak to you and your husband, for we found something that we think both of you should know of.”
Cadence called out for her husband; the Prince soon appeared in the doorway, to whom both of the guards gave their salutes.
“At ease,” Shining told them, “What brings you two out here?”
“Sir, we found a colt.” Defense replied, “We discovered him in a bitterly cold, not to mention well-concealed room, nearly freezing to death.”
Cadence’s eyes widen, “What? Where?”
“Here in the palace,” Offense said, “we found a hidden door that held a secret apartment in which we found him in. There was no light whatsoever, and being in those rooms was like walking in the middle of winter at night. But that’s not the only reason why we’re telling you this.”
“Then what is?” Shining questioned.
“Sir,” Defense said, “the colt we found… he has some… striking resemblance to... him.”
The Royal couple blinked. “Defense,” Shining spoke softly, “What are you trying to say?”
“Your Majesties, I don’t know for sure… Like you, I hope that I might wrong here but… I think we’ve found the son of King Sombra.”
The rulers of the Crystal Empire went silent for a moment before Cadence asked: “Where is this colt now?”
“In the infirmary,” Offense answered. “He’s being taken care of, suffering from a moderate form of hypothermia. We just dropped him off there to be treated, then came straight here.”
“Thank you for informing us,” Cadence said, “I want to see this colt for myself.”
“As do I,” Shining interjected. Soon enough, the couple made their way through the corridors and into the infirmary. There they ran into one very nervous crystal nurse.
Cadence asked the nurse if a colt had come into the infirmary. “Y-Yes, your majesties,” the nurse nodded, “H-He’s in there.” She pointed towards a white curtain that hid the bed. Shining approached the bed, his horn lighting up and pulling back the curtain. There on the bed, underneath warm, thick blankets was the young unicorn, his breathing slow, but his body still shivered. He cracked open an eye, and Shining could see that the cat-like irises were a bright scarlet, the same blood-red eyes that had belonged to a tyrant.
“P-P-P-P-Pa-pa?” Shining couldn’t figure out which was worse, the fact that the colt had called him Papa, or that he’d said it in the voice of an innocent foal. “P-Papa, I-I-I’m c-cold.”