//------------------------------//
// The Blankest Of Flanks 
// Story: The Crusader King 
// by naturalbornderpy 
//------------------------------//

Someone was poking at Sombra’s nose, but perhaps the term “poking” was incorrect. The poke in question was soft and timid, almost like a…
                
“Boop.”
                
Yes. Something akin to that.
                
“Boop. Boop,” the poker said, continuing to prod at his snout, the voice high enough that those that listened had a good chance of developing cavities on the spot. “Hey, mister? You awake? Why are you sleeping on the floor like that? Doesn’t that hurt your neck?”
                
Sombra sluggishly pried open his eyes, the first sight to greet him being a white unicorn with small curls in both her tail and mane. Those of the quaint populace that was Ponyville’s might have called her ‘cute’; it was another word entirely that came to his mind to describe her.
                
“You’re rather annoying,” he mumbled, jaw struggling to lift his head off the floor.
                
“He talks!”
                
“He’s alive!”
                
Two more fillies surrounded the unicorn, eyeing the peacefully laying King with curiosity. One was a pegasus while the other was an Earth pony. Their heads appeared to be sixty percent eyeball.
                
“You think he’s the one that’s been eating all our clubhouse cookies?” the Earth pony asked with an accent. “I knew there was a reason why they kept on disappearing.”
                
Sombra got to his hooves, shaking out each leg, before cracking his neck from side to side. “I wish you would’ve left me something better to eat. Those cookies were all stale and near tasteless.”
                
The pegasus came towards him. “Cookies aside, why are you sleeping in our clubhouse? And how come we’ve never seen you around Ponyville? You’re not from around here, are you?”
                
“Thank Celestia for that.” Sombra snorted and lifted his chin. “Honestly? You three cannot recognize the great King Sombra after all this time?”
                
All three filly heads stared at him from head to hoof. Together, they said, “Ohhhhhhh!” in final understanding.
                
Sombra smirked, revealing a fang. “That’s better. Now let’s talk about provisions better than cookies, like—”
                
“So you’re the King my sister helped defeat?” asked the unicorn.
                
Sombra’s momentary elation dropped. “Well… sort of…”
                
The pegasus interrupted him, “The one that blew up into a million, billion pieces and everyone cheered and had punch afterwards?”
                
“I never heard about the punch part, but, yes, I guess I did blow up pretty good…”
                
“The same Sombra that Spike the baby dragon destroyed?” added the southern one. “The crystals, slaves, and stairs pony?”
                
Sombra stomped a hoof into the wood, cracking it. “Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!”
                
He spun around and exhaled slowly, rubbing a hoof through his mane. He mumbled, “You create one awesome staircase and then that’s all you’re known for. If I ever find that architect again, I’m going to make him design his own guillotine.”
                
He turned back to them, a forced smile on his face. “All right. You know who I am. You know what I’ve done. Clearly, my character has been besmirched quite terribly since my rule, but I promise it will not remain that way for long.” He pointed at the unicorn. “You mentioned a sister. What is her name?”
                
“Rarity,” she answered.
                
“A member of the Elements of Harmony.”
                
She appeared concerned. “… Yes?”
                
“That’s good to know. Anyone else related to an Element of Harmony?”
                
The Earth one stared at the floor and rubbed at a leg.
                
Sombra giggled. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He grabbed a notebook from the floor behind him and placed a pen in his mouth to write.
                
NOTE TO SELF: Squeaky one and Southern one—incredibly kidnappable.
                
NOTE TO SELF: Is kidnappable even a word?
                
While he jotted down his notes, the unicorn introduced everyone. She was Sweetie Belle, and the others were Scootaloo and Apple Bloom.
                
Sombra looked up from his book. “That’s nice, but I won’t remember any of that.”
                
Scootaloo asked him, “So if you’re really King Sombra, then what are you doing hiding out in our clubhouse? Shouldn’t you be planning something all dark and menacing?”
                
Sombra raised a brow. “Who says I’m not?” He closed his book with a snap and started pacing around the room. “When I was defeated, a hunk of my horn soared well past the Frozen North. Once it landed, it was picked up by a bird and then dropped off at the outskirts of Ponyville. There it stayed for well over a year and a half, until a passing mail mare happened to drop a gallon of goat’s blood overtop of it. Odd, I know. A few days later, I became myself again, although with a few minor setbacks.”
                
Apple Bloom whispered to Scootaloo, “Twilight was right—villains really do like to monologue.”
                
“I am whole,” Sombra continued, “as you see me now. Only my limitless magic has yet to resurface, but I’m sure it’ll only be a matter of days until such time.” He chuckled deeply. “So until then, I will wait, and plan, and survive off stale cookies and water from the rain gutters.”
                
“Doesn’t sound like that great a comeback, if you ask me,” Apple Bloom said.
                
Sombra rolled his eyes. “Too bad nobody asked you. Phase one is always boring. Wait for the phase after that one.”
                
“Is that what all this is about?” asked Sweetie Belle, looking at the cover of his notebook. She read from it: “Die Ponyville Die. Subtitle: No Seriously, I Hope You Burn And Choke On Your Own Boiling Blood.”
                
Sombra blushed a bit and snatched the book away from her. “No, of course not! Goodness me, wouldn’t that be silly, keeping my master plan out for just anyone to read! No, this is… a play. A very large scale play.”
                
Sweetie Belle’s eyes grew big. “A play!? Can I be in it?”
                
Sombra narrowed his eyes and smiled at her. “Oh, of course you can. I think everyone in this little town of yours will be a major player in it. One performance only, I’m afraid.”
                
“Is it a comedy? Or a musical, even?”
                
Sombra scratched his chin. “I think that might depend on who’s watching it. I know I’ll be laughing my sides off the whole time. Tortured screams always did have a certain melody to them, I’ve found.”
                
This last statement didn’t seem to affect Sweetie Belle’s original enthusiasm, as her eyes took on a glossy shine. “Me? The star of my own play alongside the entire town?” She fell on her back and giggled from the notion.
                
Apple Bloom went to Sombra’s side to look at his back. “Why’re you wearing all of our Crusader capes for?”
                
With a hoof, Sombra carefully flattened his piecemeal cape over his back and plot. “I am a King, remember? Kings wear capes, and since mine was torn asunder all those years ago, I’ve had to make due. Since your capes were all so small, I had to glue three of them together to form a suitable length. Not bad, but not great. I make it work, regardless. Everything goes good with black.”
                
She eyed him quizzically. “Why not get some fabric from town?”
                
“I’d rather not. Too many ponies would recognize me.”
                
“Even we didn’t know who you were until you told us. I reckon the only ones that would know would be my sis and her friends. You could’ve taken something off a clothesline, too. You didn’t need to ruin our Crusader stuff.”
                
Sombra grumbled and closed his eyes. “I like capes, all right! Plus it doesn’t matter. I’ll be out of your manes in a few days, so—”
                
Sombra went cold as someone lifted up his cape. He hurriedly retreated to a corner of the room.
                
“Whoa!” whispered Scootaloo, whose hoof was still in the air where she lifted his cape up.
                
A bead of sweat trickled down Sombra’s face, his mouth quivering. “What did you see!? Tell me now!”
                
Scootaloo mouth was agape. “Nothing.”
                
Sombra pointed a hoof at her. “You’re damn right you saw nothing!”
                
“No, I mean I saw nothing. No cutie mark or anything.”
                
“Shut up!” Sombra spat. “It’s only higher up than most! You didn’t see it right.” He thumped over to her. “My cutie mark has swords and fire and blood and is so amazing I need to wear a cape at all times otherwise your eyes would bleed from its sheer beauty. It was something I was born with; right out of the womb, I was destined for greatness!”
                
While he spoke, Sweetie Belle deftly undid Sombra’s cape with her horn and tossed it to the side. When a cool wind blew past the open window and his newly exposed plot, Sombra’s ears fell flat against his head and he sat on the floor with his head lowered.
                
He couldn’t look them in the eyes. “Go ahead. Go ahead and laugh! I’ll be the one laughing when my plan comes to fruition.”
                
Sweetie Belle put a hoof on his shoulder. “Why would we laugh, Mr. Sombra? It’s no big deal if you don’t have a cutie mark. It just means you haven’t found that special talent of yours yet.”
                
He turned to her, eyes red. “But I’ve already accomplished so much. Slavery, mutilation, death, torture, assassination, eye poking, name calling, not wiping my hooves when I enter a building. I would’ve thought at least one of those things would’ve given me my mark.” He sighed. “You have no idea how hard it is, keeping it a secret for all these years. Once, my favorite slave Jerry happened to be walking in as I was exiting the bath. For his crimes against the royal plot, I had to have him catapulted into a nearby mountain side.” Sombra mused. “I always did wonder if he didn’t knock because he only had a crush on me.”
                
“Don’t think you’re the only one like that, Mr. Sombra. None of us have our cutie marks, either.”
                
Sweetie Belle gathered the others and together they displayed their completely blank bottoms. Sombra wiped at an escaped tear and smiled thinly.
                
“I thank you for the kind words, but as a King, I should be respected as such. You are all… you, and will most like not amount to anything of much worth during your lifetimes.”
                
Apple Bloom ignored the barb. “You ever think your missing cutie mark was the reason you started doing bad stuff to begin with?”
                
Sombra leaned back against the wall. “Perhaps. I had a hard time in school. The fact that I never received a cutie mark in my youth, coupled together with my dark coat and appearance, made me a very unfortunate and unpopular colt. Friends were hard to come by. Even harder to keep tied up in my basement.” He giggled madly. “I called it a game. They did not. That reminds me of a time…”
                
As Sombra continued on, the three fillies gathered in a circled with their heads lowered in the middle. Scootaloo said to the others, “All this talk of cutie marks gives me an idea.”
                
“What’re ya thinking, Scootaloo?” asked Apple Bloom.
                
“What happens if our special talent is befriending super villains?”
                
Sweetie Belle asked, “Kinda like what Fluttershy did with Discord?”
                
“Sort of, but I think I know of a way we can do it a lot quicker.”
                
“How?”
                
Sombra, wholly ignored, huffed out angrily. “I can hear you, you know! You might not realize this, but your whispering is just as loud as your normal speaking voices!”
                
Sweetie Belle asked, “You think he can hear us?”
                
Scootaloo shook her head. “I doubt it. Anyways, what happens if the only thing stopping Sombra from being a good pony is that his body’s just too full of evil to be friends with other ponies?”
                
“That happened to the kitchen sink once,” Apple Bloom said. “There was a nasty clog in there that Big Mac spent half-a-day getting out. But now it works fine.”
                
Sweetie Belle nodded. “But how do we get it out of him? All that built-up evil gunk?”
                
Scootaloo thought for a moment. “Maybe it’s like squeezing juice from an orange, or a blueberry.”
                
“Or an apple,” added Apple Bloom.
                
“Or a strawberry.”
                
“Or a tangerine.”
                
“Or a grape.”
                
“Or a mango.”
                
“Or a pineapple.”
                
“I can still hear you!” Sombra shouted from the corner of the room.
                
“Or a watermelon.”
                
“Or a big, ugly zit!” Sweetie Belle chirped.
                
Her two friends spat their tongue out at her. “Eww!”
                
Scootaloo raised a brow. “Wanna try? It might mean a cutie mark that no one’s seen before.”
                
The three of them agreed by loudly clapping their hooves together.
 

***


 

Sombra was busy muttering to himself when something small latched onto to one of his forelegs. Looking up, he found Sweetie Belle tightly wrapped around him, head buried in his coat.
                
He stood and roughly tried to shake her off like a piece of used gum.
                
“What are you doing?”
                
“Trying to rid your body of all its dark evilness,” she answered plainly enough.
                
“I see.”
                
Someone latched on to one of his back legs and he stuck his head below his legs. Apple Bloom had grabbed hold of an ankle, her hold tighter than her friend’s. While he looked that way, the last one jumped atop his back to wrap her legs around his shoulders. Her short legs barely got halfway around his neck.
                
“The power of friendship compels you to be good, Sombra!” Scootaloo shouted, before squeezing him with all her might.
                
“Really?” Sombra extended both infested legs and gave them a shake. Neither filly seemed inclined to let go. He sighed loudly. “What? You think all my darkened thoughts and powers can just be forced out of me? I was given my powers only because of how ruthless and deadly I had proven myself—despicable tasks done over centuries. Such things cannot be undone in a single embrace, young ones.”
                
“We’ll see,” answered Scootaloo, clearly committed to the job at hoof.
                
In defiance, Sombra took a quick jog around the room, hoping to bounce one of them off. Sadly, all three held on tight, hardly slipping an inch.
                
Sombra surprised himself with a chuckle. It was annoying, no doubt about that, but also a bit cute. They really thought they could change his very being with just a hug?
                
He stopped at the center of the room. “Girls, honestly, you are wasting your time here. There is no good in me, nor will there ever…” Sombra took in a breath and held it as he looked upward. His mouth hung limp, his forehead wrinkled in confusion. “What… what’s happening? There’s warmth in my chest. A small fire. It’s weird and I don’t like it. It hurts. It’s…” Sombra gasped. “My heart! It’s beating again! It’s been so long since I’ve felt it. It makes me feel so alive, but it hurts. It hurts! It’s scaring me!”
                
Scootaloo took a moment to remove her head from his neck. “See, girls! It’s working! Squeeze tighter to get out every last drop of evil! Nuzzle him if you have to!”
                
All three fillies gripped him tighter and buried their tiny heads into his coat.
                
Sombra lifted his free leg towards the ceiling, eyes glittering brilliantly from the rays of sun through the windows.
                
“As all my darkness is swept away, I can finally see the error of my ways. It was wrong of me to hurt others. To enslave them and have them bring me coffee that I didn’t touch for hours and then sent back because it was cold. Oh, how monstrous I have behaved.” He grabbed at his chest, right above the heart. “A light is passing through me. A bright one. So bright it burns, pushing out all feelings of pain or sorrow. Erasing all temptations to rule and enforce my will upon others. Now I know what my calling has been all along: to plant flowers, to pick up trash, to eat lemon squares and dainty treats and always use a napkin.”
                 
“I like lemon squares!” Sweetie Belle piped up. “We can eat lemon squares together!”
                
Scootaloo scolded her. “Wait until we’re finished, Sweetie Belle!”
                
Sombra pounded against his chest with a hoof. “The light! It burns! It’s too much! Too much happiness! Too much sunshine! No more! My body cannot possibly contain anymore pure, unfiltered rays of friendship!”
                
With that said, he collapsed to the ground, all three fillies rolling away from him as he fell. Sweetie Belle once again poked at his unconscious face; his tongue lolled out to the side.
                
Apple Bloom came to watch. “He don’t look any friendlier.”
                
“Maybe it’s more of an inside cleansing,” Scootaloo added. “Let’s see what he says once—”
                
“Hehehehe hahahaha!”
                
Sombra started laughing on the floor, one leg holding his belly while the other wiped away tears from his eyes. His laughter went from a small chuckle to a howling shriek before it ended. He got to his hooves and sighed.
                
“Oh, you girls are all right. That was all very adorable.” He wiped away another tear. “I’ll make sure to kill you three last.”
                
Sweetie Belle grimaced. “Thanks?”
                
Sombra waved a hoof. “You’re quite welcome, Squeaky Bell.”
                
“Sweetie Belle.”
                
“No. I think I had it right the first time.” He strolled around the room again. “Nice try, little ones, but I’m afraid my heart is far too blackened and stained for simple hugs to fix. Plus, I like my heart the way it is. Matches the rest of me.”
                
Sweetie Belle turned to the others. “My sister always says the best way to get rid of stains is with bleach. Maybe we should get him to drink some of that.”
                
Sombra came around and patted her head. “Maybe later. But I really should be going. I’ve been found, along with my plans, so I’d best find a new place to rest until—”
                
“The premiere of Die Ponyville Die?” Sweetie Belle finished.
                
Sombra grinned. “Exactly.”
                
He scooped up his taped-together cape and notebook and headed for the door.

Apple Bloom held out a hoof. “Wait! Don’t you want to stick around for awhile?”
                
Sombra stopped. “And why would I want to spend any more time with the likes of you?”
                
“Do you even know what this clubhouse is for?”
                
He turned to face her. “To safely live out childish fantasies that adulthood will surely crush into dust?”
                
“No.” Apple Bloom indicated the podium against the wall, a blue and yellow symbol of a leaping foal stamped on its front. “We’re the Cutie Mark Crusaders! Together, we try and find what special talents will grant us our cutie marks.”
                
Sombra frowned. “Good for you.”
                
Apple Bloom glanced at the floor. “But, if you want, I’m sure we could make you an honorary member. Don’t you still want a cutie mark in something you’re good at?”
                
Scootaloo sidled next to her and whispered, “You sure that’s a good idea, Apple Bloom? I mean, he is King Sombra, a pretty bad dude. And he doesn’t seem all that keen on being our friend.”
                
“But he can’t even use his horn,” she replied. “He said so himself. Wouldn’t it be cool to have an adult help us get our cutie marks and actually take it seriously for once? Plus, if we help him get his cutie mark, that might mean we all get one for helping him.” She thought. “Like super villain helpers! Or something that rolls off the tongue better.”
                
Sombra was still left standing by the door, awkwardly glancing at his cape-covered plot. “Do you promise you’ll find me my cutie mark?”
                
Apple Bloom gulped dryly. “We’ll sure try!”
                
Sombra weighed his options for a while. No matter what, his plans against the denizens of Ponyville would need to wait a few days until his powers returned to him in full. So, truthfully, what better way to kill time than by trying to get that blasted cutie mark that had been haunting him all his life?
                
“Fine,” he said, “but a few changes will need to happen before I agree. First, who is in charge of this little ramshackle clubhouse?”
                
Scootaloo told him, “No one, really, but I guess Apple Bloom makes most of the plans.”
                
Sombra glared at Apple Bloom unblinkingly. “So it is you I must usurp. Fine. Those that wish for Apple Bloom to stay in charge, raise a leg.”
                
Apple Bloom raised a leg. Hers was the only one.
                
“For Scootaloo to lead?” Sombra asked.
                
Scootaloo raised a leg and blushed. “What? I just don’t think we do enough radical stuff. We can’t do apple related activities every week, Apple Bloom.”
                
Sombra pointed at Sweetie Belle. “I’d give you a chance to lead, but I’m guessing you’re already in charge of snacks.”
                
Sweetie Belle shrugged. “He’s not wrong.”
                
Sombra straightened his back. “So then, who votes for King Sombra to be the newly appointed ruler of the Cutie Mark Curses?”
                
“Crusaders!” all three corrected.
                
“Whatever.” Sombra raised his leg, joined by Sweetie Belle.
                
The other two stared at her.
                
Sweetie Belle frowned. “What? No offence, Apple Bloom, but since you’ve been in charge, not a single one of us has gotten a cutie mark.” She said more quietly, “And I really like his mane.”
                
Sombra chuckled. “Now that all that nasty business is out of the way, I will be implementing my first major decision as your new leader.” He lowered himself to the three of them until his shadow covered their heads. He smiled wide, showcasing his fangs.
                
“Have the three of you ever thought your special talents might lay in super villainy?”