Everything was black and white. Celestia knew this. Everypony should have known this. At least this place knew that—one beautiful, irrefutable law. It was unbreakable.
Black and white. Nothing else.
Absolutes.
Perfection.
This amazing new place radiated that. The entirety of this room — if it was a room at all — was a bright white and bore no texture. Nothing could be a clearer indicator of the goodness that it overflowed with. Whatever power that managed this world decided to render Celestia herself like a drawing: stark, basic black outlining the brightest white. Some might be afraid of this— looking at their own form and finding it changed so drastically. Celestia was not one of those sorts. She felt at peace; everything here was so pristine and uncorrupted.
The sun princess walked on. Soon, she began to see trees, houses, and even ponies rendered as she was.
Black and white. The only possibilities. The pinnacle of perfection.
The frolicking ponies saw her and smiled. She dipped her head humbly toward them, bearing the widest of kindly smiles. These ponies recognized her as the ruler of this perfect and static world where everything was exactly as it was meant to be. Everything was in the bizarre and beautifully chilling presentation of a paper and ink drawing, with a flat and foal-like ideology that was a sweetness after Celestia's heart.
Her subjects spoke in pleasant tones. Even if the language was not one she knew, her heart told her otherwise. She basked in what must be their praise. She was the great princess of Equestrian hero-tales. Celestia, who brought them to the land that was now Equestria and raised the sun. She was their light, their guide. She was—
Celestia paused, noticing her little ponies were suddenly afraid, their birdsong-like language now reduced to nervous chattering. They pointed towards the horizon, their hooves shaking in fear and their eyes wide. Celestia's heart skipped nervously in her chest. What monster would dare to hurt her little ponies—the sweet mortals who loved her so dearly?
They ran in the direction of the sun princess' shadow, which was a gorgeous shade of ebony that would guard them against all they feared.
Celestia, on the other hoof, lit her horn with a blinding aura — now snow-white instead of gold — and strode towards the monster that would dare hurt these mortal souls. Celestia laid her eyes on the greatest horror she could fathom in this once-blessed realm.
There was a long shadow, tar-hued with speckles of—
No.
No, it couldn't be. Not here. Not in this paradise.
So, she pushed the wicked thoughts aside as she went on. Every hoof trod lightly in fear of what could be in the center. If—and only if—that was what she saw, then Celestia must be facing some great evil that rivaled anything known by the creatures of this world.
She came to the center, everything growing so much darker that even her magic felt no more than a firefly's glow.
In the center stood a creature. One shorter than the mare of the sun, but taller than any mortal could hope to reach. It was a very familiar height, to say the least. The shadow she cast was no longer of the purest jet, but was riddled with the color of the shadow creature's coat.
Celestia kept telling herself it wasn't true.
It couldn't be; this world didn't have such a thing.
No world did!
It couldn't exist!
The shorter mare tilted up her head, staring the black-and-white Celesta straight in the eyes. Every inch of her was gray. Her mane and tail shone with silver tones that made Celestia have to suppress how her blood was nearing a boil at the sight.
"Hello, Sister," Luna said. Her expression was somber and fierce as always. Yet, the awful darkness did not conceal it from Celestia, who had yet to see her sister look so aggressive.
"Do you know why We are here?" asked the moon princess.
"As always, you are here to—"
"No," interrupted her sister's level voice. "We are here to tell you two things. Do you know what they are? What will your precious little shadow say?"
"We have no need of your nonsensical ramblings," Celestia said, her voice a thin layer keeping all her impatience at bay. "Were We not preoccupied with something important?" Slipping into the majestic plural came as second nature when Celestia found herself faced with Luna's upstart behavior.
Luna did not flinch at her sister's words, if she heard them at all, which was an uncharacteristically emotionless reaction from the younger princess. "The first is rather simple, and We think its brevity will resonate with you."
"Why do you ruin this world?" Celestia, too, did not care to listen. In doing so, she furthered the gap between the two of them — even if she only spoke with a mere shade now. "You do not fit in with the rules, Luna. You must obey them as much as We do in order to set an example for Our ponies! Black and white, Luna! It is high time you realized you are one or the other! Let your true color show, for, in this world, there is only good and evil! There is no in-between! It does not exist! If you never pick, you will never belong. When you keep acting like that, you can keep going your own way—"
"You are always alone, even if you think not — and one day you really will be so," hissed Luna. “Keep this facade up, and see where you shall end up.”
How dare her sister be so insolent! So wrong! It disgusted Celestia, and she felt her emotions burn as they did on rare occasions — and it was on those occasions with centuries between them where she occasionally could no longer control herself.
The last time this happened was really not so long ago. They had fought viciously enough to wish one another strangers instead of sisters.
"YOU LIE! LUNA, YOU ALWAYS LIE! YOU ARE JUST JEALOUS, AND YOU HAVE ALWAYS BEEN! YOU HAVE ALWAYS ENVIED ME BECAUSE YOU BELONG NOWHERE!"
The Royal Voice faded and she stared, panting, unusually feral at her unwavering phantom of a sister. She watched as the gray impossibility melted like snow in her sun, slowly dripping away, until there was nothing left. No scenery, no mortals, truly nothing but the princess in her void of absolutes.
She was alone.
How much time had passed? She did not know, but it felt like an eternity of being awash in all the memories that were her curse.
North. Before the tribes. A marsh. Tears.
Alone.
Ashes.
She had dedicated her life to her little sister. She became everything to her in the absence of the family that they had lost.
Mother. Father. Cousin. Aunt. Uncle. Sister.
She had been the one to try and keep Luna safe from every danger the world had. Every thorn, scrape, and bad word.
Alone.
She had done that for the longest time—and all on her own. All her life was spent on family, and she felt every shred of it leaving her every day. Celestia had been able to have everything in the world but a life to call her own—and everything that came with it.
Lost. Cold. Travels. Clover. Meadow. Lies.
Everything about her life was a waiting game — and it was the only game she ever got to play. Even that was only something she felt like she partially participated in. She hated these thoughts, hated dreams — be they the bad or otherwise — and every shred of history from the world that took her life from her. The world that shouldn't have ever had to be. All her wants were ashes before they ever got to have light. Her thoughts could only be occupied with her little sister — who managed to become her biggest burden over the years. If Luna would ever have listened to her, loved ponies as she did, and done exactly what she was told without constant dreams and questions then—
Alone.
A hailstorm of memories was pelting Celestia as she stood frozen. When they found the tribes, all the flames of adolescence had taken her. For once in her life, she wanted to burn, not caring that, one day, she would burn out. Let her have all of life's pleasures. Let Celestia get to be real — but not the filly-goddess she had lived as from a lost world. No, not that Celestia. She had decided to write her own life, and fashioned the image of a hero, mare of the court, and indulged in stallions. No longer did she want to be the shadow, the watcher to the dancer, the constant caretaker, the one who was stuck in a world that tried to insist on an adventure when it would just be so much better stopping! She could find all that she needed in others, and let them want her as much as she required them. For, if they did not know her—who did?
Discord. Friend. Help. Trickster. Crush. Left.
All the life she had before could be buried if she wanted to be. Luna had been the one to always bring it up. To insist that the past was a reality that could not be hidden, that change could not be. And that Celestia, who never told anypony that she felt she never had a life, still did not know how to live. Celestia had been the one to ensure that they had somepony who tried to act as a guardian. It was the best that could be done. She had been the one to ensure that it was somepony who could teach Luna her precious magic while Celestia surrounded herself with the friends, her dearest of sycophants — as if there was anything wrong with that!
Alone.
She could bury the life she never got to have, all the chances for love and living she had missed out on. But, somehow, it weighed enough to crush her — and keep coming back.
How did she not realize that she needed to give herself to others differently? The tribes showed her that. She couldn't have her sister consume her.
Her sister, who still thought they were coming back one day just because gods could not die.
Alone.
Always.
No.
No, no, no! She ran and tried to find somepony, anypony. She couldn't be—
Alone, the void echoed back, holding no voice she had ever heard before, if it was truly 'speaking' at all.
She never wanted to be—
Alone!
She gave up. On them — and had the sense to do it ages ago! They meant nothing to her now. She gave up on her sister, her once-so precious little sister who could not, would not be her life when she first reached the tribes. In fact, that burden of a sister was the last tie she had to a world not worth remembering. Without Luna, she could really be free at last. She could fully sink into change when the sole mare who insisted that change was as real as a foal's bedtime story was gone! Ever since they had left during the exodus from the tribes' lands, Celestia had still been trying to get Luna to live her own life, to continue to pull herself in the direction of her ponies—
The white began to hurt her eyes. She ran in a daze, so frantic with her mouth open, but no sound coming out. She needed someone—and she always had!
They were gone! All was gone! She had to—
—establish a court.
—surround herself with ponies.
—always stay busy, for she enjoyed her duties anyway.
—tell nopony of the mare she tried to bury for the sake of letting the princess of 'Princess Celestia' live!
—make friends, oh so many friends.
—there could not be any reminders. Luna is a reminder. Ignore Luna, she is not your life. She is your sister.
A reminder. No, she couldn't be reminded. Not now. Not ever. To remember was to know imperfections, to see lies, to—
She had to forget. She destroyed the old castle so she could forget all the gods and their old world. She forgot Discord—her only friend and most enduring conundrum. She was doing everything she could to try and forget what came before the travels — and even before the time of the tribes. It was so hard to forget with Luna as a stain of ink on her canvas. She could never, never, ever hurt Luna—
—but with her around, Celestia couldn't cripple her god's memory enough to her liking.
They are evil; she is good. Lumina and Noctus are wrong; Celestia is right.
She was breathing hard. There were so many tears. Celestia couldn't stop crying.
"The second..."
Celestia gasped, loudly. A voice! A glorious, heavenly voice!
"The second thing We have to tell you..."
It was not a voice she wanted to hear. It came from nowhere! Everywhere was nowhere here!
"...is that they will find you. Celestia, you are haunted. Would you like to meet your ghosts? It is inevitable."
Celestia almost choked. Marring her beautiful snow-pure landscape were two parallel trickles of gray. They were shadows that kept growing into the long-lost shapes of an Alicorn mare and stallion. This was not her Destiny! This could not be! Nothing so unkind could come to anypony who dedicated herself to what she did!
She tried to unfold her wings and fly away, but only felt paralyzed. Celestia was blinded by tears and overwhelmed with fear.
Truth. Lies. Black. White. Forget. Remember. Haunt. Peace. Right. Wrong. Night. Day. Light. Dark. Travel. Home. Together. Alone. Gone. Present. Good. Evil. Celestia. Luna.
This time, Celestia really did scream.
...
Luna stared at Sombra, her eyes wide with shock. Ordinary ponies could not sense magic. Neither could Alicorns. Only magic itself could have that sort of awareness — otherwise, it could not be interactive, or capable of being woven, and so much more. What he had just said made being struck over the head feel less shocking. If it weren't for how collected he seemed, Luna could swear he was lying.
He had clearly been ready, even though what he had described was impossible. She teleported away from him and up to one of the balconies she spotted earlier.
She was still going to fight him. She had to. What did she know about this pony? Clearly, everything she might have 'learned' from her so-called time here was likely to be proven false very quickly—or, at least, was very likely to. He was possibly able to sense magic, but was no eldritch being who reeked of eating children. Perhaps he could drive ponies mad when they looked upon him, but she was not able to judge the sight of ponies.
So, what did she know about him? First, she had noticed his horn; it was unlike that of any creature she had seen before. But why?
Nopony had this kind of horn...
Nopony had his magic... Could those be connected?
So she would test him.
She knew only a few things, and they would have to do. Each floated through her mind.
He was dangerous enough to take over a whole empire himself. He was strong. He was cruel enough to torture and murder.
Most of all, he was smart.
It was enough. She charged her horn with brilliant turquoise flecked with sparks of icy blue lightning.
She whirled around and fired, the bolt soaring to the ground below and exploding. The crystal was damaged. A hole was blasted in the center. The edges ripped apart without mercy and streamed, melting down to the grand floor. It really only was a shallow hole compared to the godly power that was packed into that lightning.
Luna could see that he was standing a few feet away from where she struck, unharmed.
He was quick — that was something new to add.
It was also only one strike of a spell that was as easy for her as blinking.
Luna's horn was bright once more as she flew down from the balcony. She was the faster flier compared to her sister, having long since mastered many tight maneuvers and plummets Celestia was unable to. Luna skidded to a halt on the part of the floor that still remained intact. Another volley of lightning shot in Sombra's direction. He did not move from his spot. When the magic came close enough, he let it strike him, only for Luna to watch his form disintegrate to shadow and her spell hit the wall below with a thundering crack.
Her horn charged again. His expression did not change from an irritated scowl. This time she teleported towards him, the silver sword she carried now unsheathed.
"Why?"
He blinked and stared at the Alicorn mare, her sword brandished and ready to strike if needed. Was she really going to pause to talk to him of all things? She was like her sister — an immortal goddess — and the memories that were not his own said her name was Selene. She was the younger one, and that was still the case— even if the two had grown into mares since then.
She didn't matter. She was immortal and powerful, but that wasn't important. She wasn't him; therefore, she didn't matter.
He saw her eyes.
She was miserable.
She was trapped.
He was trapped too.
Eight years of screaming in the darkness that his head was splitting, that he didn’t want to do this, seeing everything unfold, had been harrowing. Sombra wanted to leave before the two of them ever showed up. Eight years ago, a single set of hooves in the snow led into the mountains. All of it had been orchestrated by a voice—by a shell of a being within him telling Sombra to go to a homeland he didn't have, forcing compliance whenever possible.
He was hard to kill, but not impossible, like she was. The gods in all the old books he had seen had no finality. His mortality stuck out more than any sore hoof or butchered limb ever could. If he were anypony else, Sombra would have died already. Either due to overall weakness, or due to the fact that he was probably the only pony who even knew what an Alicorn was. Anarchy was the quickest way to claim those ponies traditionally seen as wise. All the intelligent and educated among the Crystalline citizens had been slaughtered alongside the elderly. Only the younger generations, ignorant of all the gods, were left to rot. Any shred of divinity to be spoken of among those with such stifled magic and ruined, too-young minds did not exist outside of stories.
And she had asked him why. There was no need to question what it pertained to. Many pathetic mortals had spent their dying breaths screaming variations of that question at him, though they would take no answer that transcended how narrow their minds were. Such was the way of ponies, to sink into the fog of ignorance and the blindfolds of the collective herd.
Sombra had never been given a choice. He was used as a weapon to further another's greed. If he weren't in his own body, he wouldn't even recognize himself anymore — even though he knew he never changed. Today was no exception. Sombra was not given a choice because this date might as well be the day of his funeral, if he were not a match for this mare.
He didn't answer. Instead, Sombra fired up his own magic.
Luna's cheek was marked with burns in an instant.
"Perhaps it is so I can do that on a normal basis?" Sombra deadpanned.
...
A wall of crystals sprouted up to block another bolt of lightning. Unlike the last few, this one had shattered when contact was made.
The princess's eyes shone with focused determination, along with bits of her temper—and the ever-present melancholy that lurked in them more than ever as of late.
Sombra fought back. While it was true that Sombra was a worthy opponent, Luna hoped she would never have to say that to his face. His magic was not only unusual, but his handling of it was superb, considering he could have been a barbarian who wielded more weapons than brains. Never before had she had the privilege of fighting any kind of creature so close to being her equal. There was a reason she was unable to train with the mortals she was required to whip into shape for Equestria's legions. As a goddess, she absolutely pulverized them while not even utilizing a quarter of her power. Neither Celestia, nor the 'best' mortal mages or pegasi, were adequate for sparring and spell-slinging together.
Luna flew up from the ground, the floor now riddled with holes, and landed on a balcony. Her stance was balanced, ready to change at a moment's notice. It was not her sister's showy, ineffective poise. Perhaps if she were facing off against a more flattered opponent, they would undoubtedly confess her regality and how imposing she looked. Such things had happened in the past. Mortals were prone to fear and flattery in equal measure when fighting against a god. Luna was the fierce and bright bolt of a storm; she was nopony's radiant and sight-stealing light.
Her horn glowed brightly with the latest spell she wished to ready. She scanned all that was below, looking for her sword. It would prove much more efficient in close combat, which she absolutely excelled at. She didn't have to worry about the burns on her cheek, since they were able to be healed with a faint flicker of light.
Except, her sword was no longer at her side.
When she was fighting... Well, it seemed that she had dropped it at some point. As a quick, cold strike of fear spread through Luna, she spared a downward glance. The harness was damaged. Already, a dozen curses cluttered her thoughts. Had been cut when she wasn’t looking? Her personal blade was at his side now, having been retrieved from its brief rest on the dim floor. It floated in his magic, but not the strange kind he had used before. This particular aura that King Sombra was using was the same hue as his eyes when dark magic was not flooding them — a simple crimson. Perhaps that was the color of his personal magic, as the hue seemed to suggest?
"Does this sword have a name?" he suddenly asked. His tone was neutral, perhaps even close to grumpy.
She didn't answer at first. How could she?
"DOES IT?!" he snapped.
She flinched slightly. How could he lose his temper so quickly? "Y-yes."
From the balcony, she could see him sneer. "Well, I have to say that this sword deserves more of a name than you do. Your so-called sister must love you very much if she bothers to name her miserable brat of a shadow."
Luna, he is just trying to make you angry…
"Isn't that right?"
It should not be working…
"You're not very good at maintaining a straight face, are you?"
"You have no idea how good my straight face is," she mumbled through gritted teeth. Every day of her life was becoming little more than keeping herself below the boiling point. Dealing with mortals and her sister was putting her in a slow, agonizing simmer.
"It doesn't matter if you don't talk at all; your expression says everything I need to know." Despite the bitterness in King Sombra's expression, there was clearly something he found worth sneering at in her plight.
Of course, this would be the one time a pony noticed her — to berate her. And not just any pony, but a heartless tyrant with a voice like a cave's echo. That couldn't be natural, since it seemed to suit a foal's image of evil, rather than something that could truly stand before her. There was even a time when she heard his voice dip, becoming hoarse momentarily. She saw how he had to light his horn, and the way that his voice seemed to stabilize into the unnatural bass again.
Just ignore him…
The magic Luna still held on her horn was starting to cloak her form. A white glow made its way into her eyes and clouded her vision.
"So, tell me one thing, Goddess-Who-I-Have-So-Excellently-Angered. Why did this happen? Why? I know that some of your kind had the ability to receive visions. Maybe you can tell me. Why did any of this have to happen to me? If you're worth anything, you'll answer me."
Luna did not listen to a single word. She was bristling with energy, her entire body covered with a sheen of magic, her eyes fully aglow. She was too angry to hear. She wasn't listening.
There was a blast of light and the sound of rumbling thunder. Luna dove from the balcony in a fierce plummet, the aura flowing behind her like a comet.
Sombra held up the sword, as if to block the strike of a weak opponent's blade—not a divine being's wrath. He didn't move a muscle. Sombra's horn was not bearing the plain crimson aura. Nor were his eyes showing the crimson iris and black pupil of a typical equine's that they had been moments before.
...
Sombra was mortal, and this was a death wish.
Sombra was also very, very crazy, and he played by no rules but his own. Death was like a pony to him: it existed, and was obviously as real as he was, but not as important — nor could it ever be.
At the last moment, he swiftly dodged the Alicorn in a manner that was not befitting of the royal warrior he appeared to be.
He side-stepped the charge quicker than anticipated.
And that was just what he wanted.
She was the emotional one—the real fighter of the two. All he had to do was make her feel any strong emotion, then wait for her to doubt herself and try to hold back. The next step — where he triggered her hostile reaction — would cause her judgment to blur and her feelings to get the better of her. Now, Sombra simply cast the spell he had been planning since he was out of her way. The dark aura flew from the caster. A pulsing mess of angry opaque colors bearing the likeness of smoke engulfed the moon goddess completely, just as Sombra skidded to a halt from his side-step.
Luna shrieked.
...
When the spell's aftermath — a thin layer of mist — cleared, both were able to see the extent of Luna's injuries.
While Sombra knew exactly what was going to happen if his movement succeeded, Luna was barely holding back her expression of wide-eyed, frightened disbelief.
Across her wings and withers were newly-sprouted clusters of the dark-colored crystal — the exact same kind as the ones which had, no doubt, been forced into the castle walls by Sombra himself. Each cluster was embedded in her skin. She could barely even limp, which still would not have yielded any helpful results in aiding her escape. A thin sheen of blood made its way through the broken skin at points, the blasphemous crystalline parasites bearing the glistening drops with a grim silence. The brief, momentary silence was punctuated only with a pained gasp on Luna's part. Her wings had taken most of the damage, making flight impossible. At some points, entire areas of pierced flesh mingled with her broken, shredded, and crimson-soaked feathers, which were tangled due to having been caught so awkwardly in the enchanted snare.
Magic was not a possibility. Her horn was not spared from the grip of the unnatural crystals.
She was more of a caged bird than ever now.
Her gaze — which was panicked as well as feral — met the straight-faced and unwavering expression of Sombra. She found no empathy in his gaze—nor did she expect to. Yet, Luna also noticed that he did not appear to take any satisfaction in his actions.
Sombra shifted the grip of the sword still in the hold of his magic. He tilted it so that a small portion of the right side of his face was reflected in the clean surface.
"What is your name?"
"L-Luna," she stammered. How strange it was that he seemed to read her so well, yet didn't even know her name.
Sombra's gaze did not leave his own reflection. "I have a question for you, Luna," he stated simply. Even though they were only a few strides away from each other, his voice held the distant, apathetic disdain of somepony lost in thought. Only her name was said with emotion, although Luna was unsure why his tone was so contemptuous with somepony he barely knew.
"It seems that you and your precious, shining sister have come a long way — and just to see me!"
She scowled, but inclined her head in the slightest of nods.
"Well, Luna tell me this—"
She was tired of his mocking tone. What could possibly be so important? "Tell me what?"
He still refused to tear his gaze away, but Luna could see his eyes narrow. That kept her quiet. Sombra was clearly not somepony who was used to being talked back to by any who posed any real challenge.
"Well, Luna, I only wanted to inquire if you felt like a hero yet. Your sister certainly acts like one. After all, I'm simply the worst, aren't I?"
His purposely light tone only added to the biting, cruel weight of his words. For Luna, that did it. She stared at the floor and wished that she was invisible, or that her wings were free. This was just too much. The way resentment dripped from beneath the mocking lightness in his voice only compounded her misery. Sombra could think. He knew what she thought—or, at least, what her sister so desperately wanted to think of him. Luna did not loathe this stallion — but she did not think kindly of him either. This creature looked and sounded as miserable as she did. To work up hatred for him was too difficult.
The pain in her wings flared up again. She despised this crippling magic; it was one more crushing grip upon her life to smash her into a place she did not belong. Luna whimpered faintly.
For one brief moment, Sombra's gaze was not focused on the sword.
...
Luna hadn't seen it before, but she saw the traces now. They weren't obvious enough unless you were close enough to him. Right now, Luna had the misfortune of being within a foot of Sombra. At least she was off to his side, which wasn't close enough for her to dread. They were both walking down the horribly extensive and crooked halls of the crystal palace. Thanks to Sombra's reign and magic, they were no longer recognizable. Sombra was the only one who was walking too. Of course, that was only if you could call storming through every corridor and muttering something indecipherable ordinary walking. Luna was lagging somewhat behind him, having no choice to limp along due to the nature of her injuries and the inability to use any means to escape. Sombra was too cunning — and experienced, she gathered — to let her lag behind where she could escape.
It also did not help that he could use both magic and her own sword — which he still happened to regularly threaten her with. Luna's immortality and divinity would not matter. If he slit her throat like he said he would, and she didn't have the magic to heal herself or somepony who could, the results would still be disastrous. Nopony would be there to save the crystal ponies.
Suffice to say, things were not in Luna's favor.
Or, at least, it had seemed like that would be the case—until Luna noticed the air around him. She saw how it was shimmering faintly. He didn't notice she had seen the indicator of an obvious enchantment.
It was magic, of course.
But what was it for?
All Luna knew was that it was some kind of shield. Invisible, unless one were observant enough to notice light bend a certain way. Once that particular bend was spotted, a careful pair of eyes could see the way in which it would create a small flicker of light in the air around him, hardly brighter than a reflection in the glass.
Each time, it rippled once and was gone.
It was a spell, alright, and one she could probably break — even in this state.
So what exactly was this shield keeping out? He already had the fighting skill and armor to keep most wounds from being inflicted on him, on top of a power that exceeded any of his subjects. This mad king Sombra was also smart enough to think of things such as setting a trap far in advance. Did he anticipate even advanced magical attacks, like the ones any well-versed magician — or a divine entity like herself — could inflict?
No matter what, she couldn't shake the feeling that he somehow knew her... This didn't feel like their first meeting. Creatures like herself were not prone to déjà vu, though mortals in their constant misconceptions about the divine likely thought otherwise. Of all the ponies she had really known in her life — which was not many — she swore she knew of somepony who sought what this Sombra figure had built for himself.
Luna held back a sigh and looked at the ever-irritated Sombra out of the corner of her eyes. She could only see his right side. Where she stood was a few steps behind him, but it was nowhere close enough for any significant move to be made. Luna frowned slightly. She had to keep putting off the assumption — or gut feeling, it didn't matter what she called it — that she knew him from somewhere. It wasn't helping her solve the problem at hoof.
He was Sombra, and she did not know him until it was proven otherwise.
He was also glaring at her.
"Don't think that anypony else hasn’t tried. I know exactly what you're thinking, and it will fail. You aren't the first to spot the spell. Unfortunately, you'll be the only one of the few that have lived long enough to catch sight of it."
She only blinked silently in response.
"I suppose I'm just lucky you're not the talkative sort."
Luna didn't respond. They kept walking. She had been wondering why he spoke in the Everfree language, closer to what she knew in her past. The kind the crystal ponies used, though he did not have the coat texture or eyes that marked him as one of their own. Even his magic control over crystals did not match what Luna had heard the crystal ponies describe their race's magic to be. When they had any magic, they could control the growth, conjuring, and other attributes of already-existing crystals. They also needed no winter coat because their kind was immune to the arctic cold. Sombra had a noticeably shaggier coat, along with features that were impossible for a unicorn to have. The crystals he had power over were unknown to her and beyond what the enslaved ponies described as their capabilities.
During her time here, she had not heard anything close to a rumor that suggested where he might have come from. No domestic gossip suggested that he was some kind of wicked whoreson or other likely culprits. In fact, what Luna had heard was that the Crystal Empire had been a blessed place before Sombra. One overflowing with the love it revered. It had never had whores — or anything like them — within its borders. Such was the majesty of its civilized, just past.
Luna was careful to stay on his right side, since he threatened her with the sword when she strayed from there. She was close enough to hear whatever he was muttering under his breath. It was about Celestia.
Somepony, as he put it, already encountered her. The way he spoke about the event — Sombra made it sound as though he were not the one who fought her.
Luna's mind whirled. Celestia had fought somepony else? Who could it be? Did they have the same kind of magic as Sombra?
She had to find her sister, and soon! First, she had to escape this and get her magic back.
Her hoof found her horn and futility pawed at the crystals that were now attached to it. She bit her lip and tried to stop her eyes from watering. Magic for her wasn't just a mere skill. In the case of a proper god, magic was something that ran deep in every part of their being. The only one who could remove these crystals...
"Oh, stop it, will you? Surely, you don't want to see me angry, which your obnoxious behavior will definitely result in if you keep this up," Sombra spat without looking at her. "I'm surprised you and your sister — as ridiculous as you are — have gotten anywhere with the lack of knowledge in regards to the magic that you display."
Sombra stopped walking, whirling around faster than the confused princess could react. He made sure that the flat of her sword was jammed under her throat hard enough that it hurt Luna to gulp. The crimson glow encircling it illuminated the king's disgusted sneer, as if to highlight the ever-present traces of the temper he displayed.
"I would have hoped that you, of all who walk upon this land, realize that emotion and focus can influence magic. It isn't some dead force you can order at whim, forcing it to do whatever the caster desires for the sake of their morbid curiosities. Magic is very alive, no matter the incarnation. You can weave it and order it to do something, and nothing you want will happen. To really excel at magic, you work with it, if you are going to use it properly at all."
Luna stared straight at Sombra. Never before had she heard magic described so well, despite the heavy layers of loathing in his tone.
"Magic wants to be free. If you don't treat it as such, it might even turn on you by waiting desperately for you to make one mistake. And when you do, it won't forgive. You won't break the spell, because you can't break me. Nopony has, although you bet that they have all tried before. Their failure was inevitable. I'm not a puppet that you can swap out. If you think a knife will end me, or any poison can go undetected, you are wrong. Do you think I won't notice a pony entering this castle? Well, guess what? Once again, you are wrong. I'm well aware of every attempt you will make against me, even if I still can barely find a single room in this damned place."
He kept going on. Luna kept staring. Sombra had lost it.
"I can and will anticipate every violent action you think up. I'm watching very carefully—"
"You do not sleep," Luna interjected, her eyes widening momentarily in the dark. At last, she understood!
The dark circles she could see under his eyes... Not knowing where to go... He seemed to be focused only on self-preservation and his own twisted welfare... Sombra was often lost in thought that manifested in the form of long comments and rambling speeches. Perhaps she could even chalk his abnormal anger and violence up to such a condition. She knew quite well what sleep deprivation could do to a creature in the long-term, but those qualities were admittedly harder to guess the origin of. If Sombra didn't sleep for eight years, he'd have to figure out a loophole to stay alive... Such as sustaining himself on his own magic, perhaps? He would also need to keep any negative effects on his mind at bay — which was partly what the shield had to be for.
She watched as anger shone in Sombra's eyes. After all, he was clearly not one who took kindly to be interrupted. Shining in them was the wellspring of confirmation and wrath she needed, all gushing forth as richly as a fountain spring.
Everything seemed to be in slow motion to Luna. She could feel everything fit together in her mind. For that success, a small part of her somewhere deep inside was beaming with rare satisfaction. Luna could still use her hooves, even if it hurt to stretch them with the crystals still embedded in her skin.
He looked as if he was about to ready his other foreleg to strike her savagely. Instead, Sombra tried to drive the sword's point into her throat. She pushed the blade away just in time, and stumbled to the side as swiftly as possible.
Sombra himself said he could predict any attempt to wound him. That he anticipated every kind of cruelty. The paranoia in his eyes behind misery, anger, and insanity spoke clearly of this. So clearly, in fact, that Luna was sure she could have noticed — perhaps at a later time — this even if he had lied to her. His tongue could say anything, but the rest of him couldn't back up those words. In doing so, he revealed the perfect way for anypony observant and crazy enough to reverse the effects of his impressive spell.
All of this gave Luna what was possibly the most insane plan she’d ever had to date—and would ever have.
She grabbed Sombra in her forehooves. Before he could figure out what was going on, she kissed him.
After a few seconds, she pushed the horribly confused Sombra away. He was definitely not focused on his spell. Luna reached up to her horn. It was free, as was the rest of her form. Her coat may have been marked with wounds, and her wings still needed healing, but it all paled in comparison to the fact that she was—
Gone.
Luna ran down the halls so fast that she might as well have been healed already. She had to find Celestia. Even if her sister didn't have her magic right now, they could still come up with a new plan. Her sword was at her side once again instead of being aimed at her own neck. Luna's horn sparked to life. A thread of magic as faint and delicate as gossamer began floating through the halls, flickering as it went. Its path was fragmented as it tried to find the familiar magical signature of Celestia.
Meanwhile, Sombra was exactly where Luna left him. He was sitting down with an expression of pure terror on his face and a stare too vivid to ever be considered glassy-eyed. Eight years of hallucinations and terrifying madness were ready to descend on his mind now that the bubble keeping them at bay was gone.
Sombra screamed and screamed, the spell that made his voice sound so unnaturally sinister dispelled due to strain.
...
Luna found Celestia near the ruins of some kind of furniture, many corridors down and far away from where she had been. Being in this castle felt smothering, especially in this room, pinpricks traveling throughout her body with each step. Why was Celestia just sitting there? Why did that door lead to nowhere?
Luna walked toward Celestia, staring into her eyes. They were just like the king's, but with a distant look in them—as if Celestia had experienced years of torment just by sitting here. She placed a hoof on her sister's wither. Her white coat was streaked with a cold sweat. She had no discernable reaction to the gesture.
"Celestia?" she called softly.
Her sister remained silent. Luna sighed with relief; this behavior was not of her own accord. She was glad that she had at least checked that. So what could be causing this? Luna looked around, trying to scan for any clues. A door that went nowhere was certainly telling. It was as cold and barren as everything else in this castle... Except that it didn't look like any of the other doors in the castle. Why would somepony like Sombra attach a frame to a wall like this for no reason? He wouldn't—not after what she had seen of him.
Celestia was staring at the empty doorframe and looking at the gray wall. There was something about the door that was doing this to her, and it involved the king's magic. But how did it work?
Luna tapped her hoof on the floor for a moment, before she was jolted out of thought by the crystal at the top. That must be where the magic was coming from! Sombra could use the crystals to cast spells of their own, after all. Enchanting crystals wasn't an unknown concept, just one that wasn't nearly as advanced as Sombra's spells. Now that Luna knew how to disable the door, she channeled as much magic into her horn as possible, until the entire room could barely contain the glow as it was bathed in waves of blue. She then fired it at the crystal, covering her ears at the whistling and unearthly bloodcurdling howl that sounded throughout the room at its destruction.
It was too much to bear. She gritted her teeth and shut her eyes. Why wouldn't it stop?
Luna didn't see the curl of green and purple smoke escape from the shards, and how the miasma floated towards Celestia. That floating, foggy substance was drawn to everything it knew about her. Every vision, weakness, fear, and memory. It slipped into her heart—the only place where it could nurture the seeds of darkness that may sprout. There it would wait, completely undetected.
Celestia blinked and clutched her head. "Luna, what was that awful noise?"
...
If he can make it through everything he sees right now, he might still have a chance.
The hallways are dark, and they move constantly, shifting around him like an enchanted maze of horror. Or maybe it's just an effect of his disoriented stumbling. The walls were crystal. Even when he arrived, that did not change, as everything else had. The walls were mirrors, each showing distorted portions of something around him, including Sombra himself.
Sombra blinked and rubbed his eyes, his head spinning.
There were two Alicorns... He remembered them... Sisters, right? Yes, they were two sisters — the memories said as much. He needed to concentrate. They were the wards of Starswirl the Bearded. He knew that much from the secondhoof inheritance in his head.
What were their names again? He never got the correct name of the older one, but the younger one... Ugh, what hall was he in again? Wait, she was the one that dispelled the shield! Sombra's jaw tensed with rage.
That one.
Part of his mind cleared as he recalled being near the throne room. He heard hoofsteps coming from that direction as well.
"Celestia!" called a familiar voice. Sombra was still coherent enough to hear the echoing voice of the mare called Luna.
Slowly, he could feel a bit more focus creeping back through the fever dream-like visions dancing in his eyes and clouding his mind. He needed to go there. Where the sisters were.
This time, it's personal.
...
Celestia turned to follow her sister, rubbing her head from the lingering headache. She saw something in that door...
What had it been?
Gray. She had seen evil, hadn't she? And what else would evil be but the creeping, tainted gray death that sought to corrupt all that made up the black and white reality? No, not what. She had seen no what, but there was a faint recollection of who. Celestia had seen Luna there...
Celestia was promptly pulled from her wandering thoughts by Luna calling her name. They were back in the throne room now, which was where Luna had been trying to usher Celestia. Admittedly, the idea of Luna trying to lead Celestia anywhere was deeply disturbing.
"Celestia, do you have any plan, or should I come up with one...?" Luna asked. Her voice trailed off and gradually became quieter with each word. She was still using the speech of a mortal. Celestia knew that would change once they got back to the Everfree Forest. After all, Luna wasn't one to give up her habits.
Celestia's ears then pricked at a faint sound — hoofsteps belonging to neither her nor her sister. As she gazed at the false throne before them, her face twisted in disgust.
A real monarch sat there once, before the evil king had ever set hoof in this land...
Her eyes found a hallway. Across the room, Luna's hoof pointed at King Sombra, whose gait was much like a drunken, fatigued stumble. He glowered at Luna, who stood stoically in Celestia's shadow. Or maybe it was just a shadow, since all were shadows in this castle. Sombra didn't know the exact spell these two would use, but, even in his delirium, he knew he couldn't fight. A shield like that was not cast in an instant, after all. But he wouldn't lose either. There were still many spells and enchantments he had wrought into this castle.
He could barely stand as it was. Sombra saw Luna and the other mare—who must be Celestia—light their horns in unison. Through the blindfold of hallucinations, he stared at the blue mare with infinite loathing. She would be his greatest enemy.
Sombra blinked.
A nearly buried part of him wanted to smile at what they didn't know. But he was Sombra, and Sombra didn't smile.
Their eyes were glowing now.
...
The moon shone down on the vast expanses of northern land. Not a structure stood for miles. Only the glistening snow that shimmered in the dim starlight shone in the arctic night, since there were no clouds to obscure it. The red clouds had long since cleared. Luna had just lowered the moon only minutes before. It had still been hanging high in the sky; the lovely night needed to be prolonged to offer the two goddesses the cover to escape in. Despite her brief interaction with the sky, every second felt like an eternity as the world held its breath. Everything around them was too quiet. The silence, heavy as the cold wind, whipped up small flurries to travel up the rolling hills. Even the howling of the winds had abated for now.
The tall forms of two Alicorn mares looked out onto this land. Celestia did not move. She didn't seem to breathe either. The elder sister chose to remain as petrified as a marble statue etched with all the weight of fear. In her eyes, the remains of tears were present. He really was more powerful than they had thought. To make an entire city and even a few nearby mountains disappear like that... It had to have been something that was laid out long before they arrived. She wasn't really sure. Even before the tribal times and the Old World had vanished, they both knew that mortals were not known for such feats.
All of this was even more desolate than the castle had been.
The wails of the wind were dull in her ear now that they had resumed. Ringing in her ears was the echo of the panicked screams from the castle that they had escaped. Celestia had tried with every bit of magic she had left, but it was all in vain. She was earnestly drained from having to fight the king and then—with the aid of Luna—tear apart his living form and bend it into a living shadow the sisters sealed into a pocket dimension. Their combined, divine might had ripped and anchored his immaterial form into the ice where they stood now, beyond the limits of tangibility.
After that task, which only exhausted Celestia's magic further, the sisters stumbled about in varying degrees of dizziness. It felt like some force had tilted the castle — something no exhaustion-induced vertigo could inflict upon them that severely.
When it happened again, Celestia had almost panicked. Her entire world momentarily went black as she lost all sense not tied to her body. Luna's did too. It felt like they were both hurtled across the room with nothing around or under them. When they had opened their eyes, both of their hearts racing, Celestia and Luna had found themselves an entire level below the throne room, surrounded by blanket-covered furniture swept up in dust. Everything was utterly unrecognizable. The horrifying, plummeting sensation that had torn through them was not for nothing.
Luna noticed that, when it happened again, they dropped another level down. Then, three floors vanished at once.
The king was gone, having been successfully defeated by them both. So, what was happening? He hadn't placed a spell on either of the goddesses.
Before it could occur again, Luna had rushed over to an exposed window and broken its glass and frame with a bolt of godly lightning. All around them, the two goddesses could see what was happening at last. The houses and other structures bordering the city were gone in the same dark blinks. As were the farmlands, and even the few crystal ponies who were savaging the ruins of the city. From that cracked window, everything else was fading before the eyes of the two sisters.
Something had been cast that was long past the point of being undone — and certainly not with the caster sealed beyond the reach of death and life.
Celestia and Luna had watched as the castle flickered around them like it were hardly any different than the holo-gem's projection, instead of a solid and mighty structure. The stomachs of both sisters churned — but at least they stayed on the same floor this time. The lingering, poisonous knowledge of how temporary that stability was gnawed at them.
In the present moment, Celestia inhaled once, sharply taking in all the icy air. She thought of all the crystal ponies who had vanished with this place. It would be foolish to pretend that she hadn't heard at least one scream as the tortured residents were pulled into a dimension of their own—once more under the king's lock and the key, even if he wasn't with them.
Celestia had tried to save them when she stood in that last hallway, using the only magic she had left to try to piece everything together, because she could fix this. She had to — that was what heroes did! She could fix everything! Her ponies told her so every time she saw them! Tears had run down her face as her heart was wrenched. She overexerted herself, doing everything to save everypony. Her magic was thoroughly diminished, and even felt sealed — probably from so much use. She yelled and screamed until her throat felt raw for Luna to stay when she heard her younger sister scrambling away.
She still recalled that Luna had been on the verge of flying out of the remains of the window, her own hooves and pasterns bleeding from the remnants of glass shards she stood upon and had resorted to breaking manually. Luna, with terror in her tone, and an urgent look in her eyes, begged Celestia to leave, asserting that King Sombra had been powerful enough to do this. Maybe the spell was set up over the course of years—but he still managed to do so, and couldn't Celestia understand how much of a match he had been for them? They had lost, as awful it had been… But mortal spells do not last forever, and even their pure might had the potential to expire when cast forth so hastily. Yet, if they stayed for much longer, they would be gone as well.
Celestia had refused to listen. Luna had taken advantage of her sister's desperation and exhaustion, both physical and magical. She had dragged Celestia from the ruined place kicking and screaming like a heartbroken child.
She wouldn't forget what Luna had done—how vile and unkind it was.
The sun princess took one last look at the empty plain before turning to fly away, the cold of the blizzard already at her back. Luna would join her soon enough. By this point, Celestia didn't care if she didn't. Celestia believed that Luna had sacrificed the opportunity to save so many... She refused to sacrifice herself when the lives of mortals had to be put first and foremost. Why… If things really came down to pure technicalities, only one princess was needed to return to the Triarchy with the promise of a Crystalline colony. Was it even possible to forgive an action that Celestia considered so selfish?
...
Luna remained for quite a while after her sister left. Perhaps she would catch up when Celestia was thinking straight — if Celestia would be another matter entirely. The princess of the night reached up and put a hoof to her throat. Celestia, along with all of Equestria, felt more like a heavy collar attached to worldly chains than anything else. The Triarchy was three chains, or perhaps only one. Mortals were a burden, certainly, but were they enough to be three whole weights in a life that was devolving into drowning? Celestia was definitely one, and Luna's own conflicts were another.
Snow swirled around her, but she did not shiver. Everypony back in Equestria was colder and crueler than the snow and ice could ever be.
The ponies here would haunt Celestia for a long time, that was true. It wasn't that Luna did not care for them; she just wasn't sure that was the greatest mystery of the Crystal Empire. Having an everlasting life only made her understand that what she had was a treasure, and that she needed to take care of herself. If that meant fleeing a losing battle to fight another day, so be it. The hope of another victory was infinitely more important than the certainty of loss that came from delusions of self-sacrifice. In the event that they were ever seen again, who would fight for the crystal ponies? Especially in the event that everypony who had a chance at saving them and knew where they were found themselves entombed beyond death with them?
A long time ago, as a young filly, Luna had dreamed of the kind of fire that Sombra had power over. Although… the eyes were much different than Sombra's had been. She had a feeling she would be seeing a lot more of that magic—whatever it was—at some dusk yet to come.
'Do you feel like a hero yet?'
Famous last words, Sombra, Luna thought, before she took to the skies as well.
She only stopped to toss what was once her sword on the ground. All that was left behind were the broken shards of a silver sword, resting in the snow. Its pieces were the one thing that had not succumbed to the vanishing. Luna had found them glittering in the snow during the initial bewilderment she felt. In Celestia's desperate attempt to resist Luna's removal of her from the site of the castle, it had been cracked beyond repair, leaving it as a brittle stick of a once-proud weapon. Why bother taking it back to a forge?
For over a thousand years, they would sit undisturbed.