Colorful candy wrappers and brown bits of chocolate littered nearly every inch of the floor. Sombra had to tread carefully so as not to crush anything as he strolled around the room. In one corner, large mounds of gummy candies had been gathered. In another, more obscure sweets—sour balls, lemon drops, almond bark, chocolate-covered marshmallows, candied apples in various designs. Everywhere he turned there was another bright stack of candy waiting to greet him and make him wince. Sombra had always been an advocate of deep blacks and dull grays; a splash of crimson if the mood should strike him. Just why did candy need to be so visually loud?
“Where’s the lollypop pile again?” Sweetie Belle asked, holding a colorful batch in her horn’s aura.
“In that corner, I think.” Apple Bloom indicated with a leg, busily spreading candy along the floor to separate and then organize.
Sombra was almost taken aback by the scene. Originally, he’d expected his three henchponies to dive headfirst into their stolen loot and not resurface until their bellies were filled to the max with sugary delights. As he was witnessing, the only one acting like a proper foal at the time was Scootaloo.
“Argh…” Scootaloo moaned to herself. “Belch!”
Scootaloo sat with her back against a wall, her lips smeared with melted chocolate. By her side was a half-finished bottle of “Bubbly Chewy Pop,” a Sugarcube Corner original. It looked almost identical to a pop bottle, but once you were done drinking the liquid inside, the container was completely edible and rather tasty.
After allowing himself a single morsel of chocolate to enjoy (even hidden under a cape most of the time, Sombra’s robust figure was always forefront on his mind), he carefully went to each filly in turn, whistling as he did.
“Let’s just see how well we’re doing. Hmm?”
Sombra picked up the near comatose Scootaloo and twisted her around to stare at her plot.
Blank.
Sombra grimaced. “And here I thought ‘getaway driver’ would’ve been the one.”
He did the same with Apple Bloom, who merely glared at him quizzically as he flipped her around.
Also blank.
Sombra raised a brow and grumbled under his breath, “Two for two? I really wasn’t expecting that. Oh, well. I guess that just leaves my best henchpony, then.”
Sidestepping a wide array of sweets, Sombra went over to Sweetie Belle to stand overtop of her. He smiled warmly. “Sweetie Belle? Do you happen to have something new to show Mr. Sombra?”
She cocked her head to him. “New? Like a piece of candy or something? There’re lots to choose from, if you want to have a look. I think Apple Bloom started a dark chocolate hill behind the drink bar if that’s—”
He shushed her. “No, no. I mean did you get your cutie mark yet?” He grinned. “The way you handled those two in the candy shop, I really can’t see how you couldn’t have gotten one by now.”
Sweetie Belle dropped her candy and gasped. “I completely forgot about our cutie marks! I was just having so much fun doing all that other stuff! Let me see if I got one!”
Using her horn, she lifted an edge of her cloak up and turned back to him with a soft-beaten expression. She shook her head and looked down.
“Maybe next time,” she told him gently.
Sombra exhaled loudly, his hooves beating against the floor. He tried to control himself, but found the task far beyond him.
“So none of you,” he paused, glaring at each of them in turn, “not a single one of you got your cutie mark? Not after the lemonade stand or the new clubhouse or the robbery?”
Apple Bloom abruptly stopped sorting candy. “What about you, Sombra? Weren’t you trying to get your cutie mark too?”
Absently, Sombra glanced backward at his own plot, both sides with heavily faded crisscrossing scars. No cutie mark was there to be found.
Sombra stomped against the floor, mashing mounds of candy underneath.
“This isn’t about me!” he roared. “I’m only trying to help you three! Don’t you get that? And here I thought this time would somehow be different! But so far—”
Smash!
With one solid kick, Sombra sent his leg flying through the front panels of the bar, splinters and bits of board spraying outward. When he pulled his leg back out, it had a few scrapes and cuts.
“—absolutely nothing has changed! I can’t get anyone a cutie mark and it’s all my fault all over again!” he finished, before sitting on the ground and panting.
After a while, Sombra raised his head and saw Sweetie Belle, Apple Bloom, and Scootaloo huddled together in front of the pile of candies and chocolates. All at once, he hated himself. Their expressions reminded him of the way Nocturn had looked at him when he told her what he’d planned to do to their King. More than anything, he didn’t want to see the look of fear anymore.
He ran a hoof across his eyes. “I’m… sorry, you three. For the outburst and for failing you like I have. You all gave me the benefit of the doubt… you trusted me when others wouldn’t… and still, here you are, without your cutie marks.” Chuckling dryly, he added, “Maybe that’s been my special talent all along—letting ponies down.”
Sweetie Belle was the first to separate from the group and approach him. Apple Bloom had whispered something into her ear and she had said something out of earshot in return. Regardless of what her friend might have warned, she came to him and, without a word, wrapped her legs around his side.
“Honestly, it doesn’t matter if we get our cutie marks or not,” she told him. “All that matters is that you tried, Mr. Sombra. So far, you’re the only grownup that’s joined our club and helped us like you have, so it really means a lot that you’re here. And even if things haven’t worked out completely, it doesn’t mean we haven’t been having fun trying, anyways.”
By the time Sombra got a leg around her and gripped her tight, both Apple Bloom and Scootaloo had found another part of him to hug.
When Sombra thought of himself in all the years he’d lived, the image that usually came to mind was that of a boulder—so large and so immovable it would take more force than most were capable of to shift it even an inch. How odd, he thought, to find that just the tender embrace of three innocent little fillies could break such a solid object so easily.
“Just don’t get mad at yourself anymore, all right?” Apple Bloom added. “My big brother gets mad sometimes and so far it hasn’t solved any of his problems. Okay?”
Sombra swallowed hard, a lump forming in his throat. “…okay.”
Scootaloo gave over her own piece of advice. “And don’t be so hard on yourself, Sombra. At least you’re trying to help us and, really, that’s all that should matter. That’s why we made the Crusaders to begin with—to keep on trying and never give up until each of us get our cutie marks. They wouldn’t be worth getting unless they were at least a little bit difficult to get, right?”
Sombra knew if he were to speak, he might start crying in front of them, so he nodded instead.
After a silent minute or so, Sweetie Belle parted from the close-knit group and looked at him. “Since we haven’t gotten our cutie marks from any of your activities yet, maybe we should try something else.”
Sombra chewed on his tongue. “Different how? What could be wrong with a life of supervillainy?”
She glanced down. “Nothing. It’s… fine and all, but just maybe something else would be nice for a change. Like maybe if you did something that wasn’t so terrible or mean, you could get your own cutie mark in that.”
“A cutie mark in what exactly?”
Sweetie Belle shrugged. “Being normal?”
***
As Sweetie Belle, Apple Bloom, and Scootaloo went to the Clubhouse’s upper floor to pull out their little table and chairs, Sombra went about his single task in silent complacency. “Make tea for everyone,” they had told him before hurrying upstairs. And so he had.
On a tray he placed four matching cups with saucers alongside an old teapot with a small folded napkin underneath. Even though Sombra was more of a coffee-type pony—dark roast, obviously—he boiled the water as he’d been instructed to and added the tea bags accordingly, making sure not to spill a drop.
With one leg resting on the first step of the stairs, he paused and retrieved a thin vial from one of the inner pockets in his cloak, uncorking it and pouring it into the tea. With one of the spoons, he gave it a quick stir and made sure none of the green potion he’d just added could be seen.
Tea parties were nice and all (and he knew he’d humor them for as long as he could), but this wasn’t why he’d camped out at their clubhouse to begin with. To get the results he’d been after all along, he had to set certain actions into motion, whether mischievous or not.
“I’m sure they’ll understand,” he told himself, before ascending the stairs.
***
Sombra heard hushed whispers behind the door, so he knocked before entering. In the half-second it took him to come inside, Scootaloo gasped and three chairs squeaked across the floor.
Sombra regarded the three with a smirk.
“Seems like some ponies have been rather nosy, haven’t they?”
While Sweetie Belle blushed and fixed her stare on the table, Apple Bloom spent her time gazing at the floor. The only one that would dare meet his eyes was Scootaloo, who could hardly seem to sit still in her chair.
“That’s all right,” Sombra reassured them. “I would’ve given them to you eventually.”
As Sombra levitated the small tray of tea and cups to the center of the table, he pulled out his own chair and took a seat. He looked from one filly’s head to the next—the silver and jewel encrusted tiaras that sat on each of their manes glittering richly in the warm light coming in from the windows.
After the Crusader’s lemonade stand had been such a success, Sombra had found a jeweler in town and commissioned three near identical silver tiaras. As well as a crown.
Sombra chuckled deeply. “This feels good.”
From the same sack he’d hidden their three tiaras, he’d brought out his own silver and red curved crown to sit atop his mane. He’d been so long without something atop his head, the crown almost felt heavy to him.
With a hoof, Apple Bloom readjusted her tiara. “We’re awfully sorry about that, Sombra, but when we saw something all silvery-like in that sack of yours, our first thought was that it might’ve been something of Diamond Tiara’s. Then when we saw it was three different tiaras… well…” She suppressed a giggle and turned to him. “I’ve never gotten to wear anything like this before, you know?”
Sombra waved a hoof. “It is perfectly okay. I’ve always considered you three to be my unofficial Princesses of Darkness, so what good would three princesses be without tiaras? Or a king without a crown?”
The three fillies squealed as loud as a screaming teakettle.
“PRINCESSES!?”
They made to leave their seats and charge him, but Sombra slapped an aura around their chairs, holding them in place.
He rolled his eyes. “No more hugs today, all right? I still have a reputation to uphold. If some of my older colleagues were to see me having a tea party right now with foals, I’m pretty sure my lifetime membership to the Victorious Villains Club would instantly be revoked.”
Scootaloo furrowed her brows. “Wouldn’t you have to be victorious first to be in that club?”
Sombra scratched his chin. “You’d think that wouldn’t you? Either way, time for tea!”
Sweetie Belle divided the cups and saucers as Apple Bloom set out the napkins and spoons. Scootaloo grabbed a box of cookies from a nearby cabinet and laid them on a plate. If they were the same stale cookies Sombra had been eating several days prior, he’d probably just stick with the tea.
Once everything was more or less in place, Sombra filled each cup with steaming tea and set the teapot back down. Then he made the four of them clink their cups together.
“Here’s to misunderstandings!” he announced.
“And cutie marks!”
“And candy!”
“And awesomely cool tiaras!”
The four of them drank.
When Apple Bloom set her cup back down, she asked, “What did you mean by misunderstandings?”
Leaning back in his chair, Sombra admitted, “You wouldn’t understand.”
“I wouldn’t? Whaddya mean I…” she stopped speaking and froze as if stuck in the middle of a sneeze. Her eyelids drooped down, nearly reaching the bottom. “Why am I suddenly so sleepy?”
Scootaloo took a bite out of a cookie. “You okay, Apple Bloom? You look—” The uneaten half of her cookie hit the floor as Scootaloo fought to keep her eyes open. A bit of drool leaked out of the corner of her mouth.
With rising alarm, Sweetie Belle turned from one of her friends to the next. “Girls? Girls, what’s going on?”
Sombra shook his head and sighed. “I’m afraid they’re under the highly potent effects of a potion right now, as you, too, will be feeling in just a moment.”
Sweetie Belle’s eyes expanded as large as her tea saucer. “But why! Why would you—”
“Because drinking tea won’t get us anywhere, and what I’ve got planned for us next might’ve been met with some opposition. So I’ve taken it upon myself to hurry things along. But I must say the whole thing was rather cute—three little princesses and their king.”
Eventually, Sweetie Belle collapsed to the back of her chair, a single eye straining to keep open. “My sister always told me not to steal candy with strangers…”
Sombra put both back hooves on the table as he sipped from his teacup. “Don’t you worry your adorable little head about a thing, my dear. Your very good friend Sombra has everything well under control.”
He flashed her a very toothy sneer.
Sadly, it didn’t seem to have all that much of a calming effect, as she gulped and then passed out onto the table next to her friends.
Slurping noisily, Sombra finished his tea and looked over the still bodies of the Crusaders and realized he’d made his first honest mistake.
He actually did want some of those stale cookies now.
***
Sweetie Belle flinched as she accidentally bit her tongue, causing her eyes to pop open. With a jolt, she sat up on the floor; something large and paper thin falling across her back. As she tried blinking the sleep from her eyes, she noticed how dark the room had gotten—the full moon and billions of stars glittered outside.
When she noticed her and her friend’s discarded tea set and cold cups of tea, her heart gave a lurch and she grimaced, oddly biting her tongue all over again.
“Ow! Why do I keep doing that?”
The room was dimly lit by two thin candles atop the table. Sombra strolled into the light so Sweetie Belle could see him fully.
Again her eyes widened as large as saucers.
“Mr. Sombra? Why’d you do that to us? And why do you look so different now?”
In the time the three of them had passed out, Sombra had removed his cape and grown a new pair of long bat wings, currently resting on his back. When Sweetie Belle eyed up his wings, he spread them out with a whoosh! More changes had befallen the stallion. His ears appeared furrier and more bat-like; his fangs a few centimeters longer and poking out from his mouth.
He chuckled. “I drank the same potion as the rest of you had. I only put you all to sleep first, as to not set off any alarms.”
Sweetie Belle got to her hooves and frowned at him as hard as she could. “You think putting us to sleep without us knowing wouldn’t alarm us!?”
Sombra shrugged.
When she turned to her friends, Sweetie Belle felt that same light tap as something papery settled against her back. Then the sensation of something new attached to her entered her head—the muscles and nerves of limbs she hadn’t had before. Moving her shoulder gently, one of her bat wings swung out to her side before it went limp and whapped into her. Two attempts later, she got both wings upright and straight, recalling how Scootaloo would hold hers right before she tried to fly.
On the floor behind her were her friends, both of them beginning to stir from their sleep. Like Sombra, Scootaloo and Apple Bloom each now had a pair of matching fangs and batwings, with ears a little larger and fluffier than before.
With a mix of excitement and unease, Sweetie Belle whirled to Sombra.
“You changed us!?” She winced as she accidentally bit her tongue again. “I didn’t want to be a batpony! You should’ve told us you were going to do that!”
Sombra took a step closer, stretching out both his shoulders and his wings. “Have no fear, Sweetie Belle. It is merely a spell and nothing more. When the morning sun peeks over the horizon, the spell will be effortlessly wiped away. So a word of caution before we begin: don’t be in mid-flight when the sun hits you. Trust me, a two story drops onto sharp jagged rocks hurts just as much as it sounds.”
“My wings! What happened to my wings?”
Scootaloo gasped at her new pair of bat wings, flapping them incessantly as she paced around in a circle.
“Wings? Why do I have wings?”
Apple Bloom seemed to be taking it the best out of the bunch, as she curiously grabbed at a wing to examine closer.
Sombra pulled a wide mirror out from the corner of the room to prop in front of them. “No more surprised reactions, please. I think everyone’s more than a little tired of gasps by now. So here’s what you look like. Get used to it. At least until tomorrow morning.”
For close to five minutes, the Crusaders took turns standing in front of the mirror, inspecting every last inch of themselves for the smallest of changes. As much as they peered, the changes had basically been the same for all of them: a darker shade of coat and mane, sharper teeth with fangs, bat-like ears and batwings, and a set of glowing yellow eyes.
Apple Bloom took a long look out the window. “What time is it?”
“It’s rather late,” Sombra answered calmly, “so we should make haste with tonight’s activities before we waste too much time.”
She turned to him, fangs digging into her lower lip. “I was supposed to be home by now. But now I can’t go home! Not looking like this! You gotta change us back, Sombra. What’ll my family say if they saw me looking like this?”
“They’d probably run you out of the orchard with flaming torches and pitchforks…” Sombra mumbled to himself.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.”
He went to the window to stand beside her. “Worry not. I’ve already set up precautions at each one of your homes to make sure your absences will go unnoticed. Not only am I a master of the dark arts, but I am also a skillful manipulator of every mind I come in contact with. In each of your beds—should your family decide to check—they will find, in your place, a perfect illusion of each one of you. Should they ask the illusion a question, it will answer them true to form. Should your illusions speak, it will speak just the way I think the real you would. Believe me, in my short amount of time spent in Ponyville, I already know you three and your families and friends better than you even know yourselves.”
***
Applejack stopped outside Apple Bloom’s bedroom door, pressing an ear against the wood to listen. Inside, her sister snored softly, muttering to herself. Applejack heard her sister turn in bed and begin sleeping again.
Applejack laughed quietly. “Always was the soundest sleeper out of all of us.”
Apple Bloom mumbled something. Then repeated it.
Applejack narrowed her eyes. “She couldn’t be having that dream again, could she?”
Slowly, carefully, Applejack pried open her sister’s door and took a tentative step inside. From the doorway, she could see a mound of blankets pulled up to Apple Bloom’s head, a single bow left atop the covers. Applejack took a tiny step towards her to hear what she was saying.
“… apples… apples and junk…”
Between each snore, Apple Bloom whispered out a few more words.
With a hoof, Applejack clutched at her chest as a single tear dripped down her cheek.
“She’s having that same old dream all over again.”
Apple Bloom went on between snores.
“… my name is Apple Bloom and I like apples and junk… and I’m a filly and there’s a bow in my mane… and apples apples apples…”
Applejack sniffed, wiping away a tear. “I knew it. That old ‘my name is Apple Bloom and I like apples and junk’ dream she told me about last month. She really is dedicated to those darn apples of ours. If only she’d stop finding the need to introduce herself in her own dreams.”
Apple Bloom mumbled on for quite some time.
“… my name’s Apple Bloom and I’m pretty sure my blood’s made of apple sauce…”
***
Well away from such insanity, the recently transformed bat-like Sweetie Belle asked them all:
“So now that we look like this, just what are we supposed to do?”
Sombra displayed his enhanced set of fangs.
“Get revenge on those that deserve it, of course.”