There can't be Light without Shadows

by Silverweed

(Un)Mercyful Fate

While the events in Ponyville took place, there were others starting to unfold. Far, far up north, deep within the ridges of the Crystal Mountains a lone Unicorn fought its way through heavy snowfall. Its journey had brought it here, a fair distance from its home. Anyone who could have seen the pony would be unable to tell what race, gender or color that pony was, partly through the snowfall, partly because of its saddlebags and partly because of the heavy cloak obscuring his features. The only indication that it was indeed a pony and not a goat or any other animal, whose homestead was located in these mountains, was its general size and stature. The pony climbed a particular steep slope, sliding down a few inches every time it took a short break to catch his breath because the pony was not used to strenuous walks or any kind of physical labor, but it felt, no knew, it had to do this. If it found what it was looking for, than the measly peasants who normally mocked and scoffed at it would finally praise it. Powered by this thought of his great victory over those looked upon it, the pony trudged on towards its goal. The goal was near; the pony could feel it, sense it in its very being. More so, the pony could hear it, the invisible voice, whispering promises of desired treasure and grand fame into its dreams and its mind, was louder now, pushing the pony onward.

Finally, near the summit, there lies the destination of the pony. The entrance of an enormous cave lay before it. After the pony had ventured far enough inside, shielding it against the sticky snow, the howling wind and the unrelenting cold, the pony allowed itself to let slip the saddlebags from its back and to push the hood from its cloak back. The pony revealed itself to be a white Unicorn stallion with blonde mane, blue eyes and a compass rose for a Cutie Mark, it was non other than Prince Blueblood himself. Prince Blueblood stood there for a couple of moments, panting heavily, too exhausted to even think about a fitting curse for the weather outside the cave. His thoughts traveled to the first time he had heard the voice, which still encouraged him to continue down the cave, making it hard for him to formulate even one clear thought.

“Will you just be quiet already? If it weren’t for the possibility to redeem myself I would never had stepped even one hoof into this forsaken place!” he exclaimed frustrated, but only his own voice bounced back and forth among the cave walls. Yes, redeem him, which was one of his most sought after wishes since that accursed Grand Galloping Gala and that wretched Unicorn mare. Since then, even after all this time, there still were enough who remembered his ungentlecoltly display. He gave a derived snort. Why was it his fault that this witch took him for somepony he wasn’t? It clearly was her fault, not his, but this obvious truth seemed to escape all but him. With time he had learned to ignore them or to blend them out, but that did nothing to improve his reputation and he became an outcast among nobility. So he had begun to turn his mind to more pleasant things; himself, art, himself, sport, music, himself. However, in the back of his mind, there was always the memory, the feeling that haunted him. He started to collect all kinds of monetary pleasantries to assuage his mood, nothing seemed to help though. But then, then he had found it, the very trinket that had brought the invisible voice, promising him redemption in ways he could normally only dream of. He would be hailed as a great treasure hunter, like the hero in one of those books the commoners seemed to enjoy so much. His body, the very picture of stallionhood would be preserved in various statues, placed among the palace statue garden, in the section where all heroes of Equestria were placed and then he would be admired again. After that, he was sure, the very mare who had been the cause of this entire soporific ordeal would crawl back to him, begging him to take her back, but of course he would reject her, casting her away back to her measly shed where she would dwell upon her loss, crying her eyes out.

With this thought in mind and the invisibles voice encouragement he journeyed on, deeper into the cave. His path illuminated by some ominous light, coming in part from the light of his horn and in parts from the phosphorescing mushrooms which grew on the walls. The light casting eerie shadows between stone pillars, stalagmites and stalactites, making the whole cave shimmer in an unworldly light. Prince Blueblood was too occupied with the thought of his redemption to take notice of this foreboding signs. He came to a stop atop a flight of stairs that lead down into the heart of the mountain. He groaned and huffed, but he had gone too far already to turn around and return to his home in Canterlot. Besides, the voice was screaming, shouting at him to move on. Blueblood noted with no little concern, that the voice had taken on a dangerous edge, as if threaten him to harm him if he so much as look back to the exit.

“You know very well, that I’m my own master, not some ominous, invisible voice. I do what pleases me,” Blueblood exclaimed, turning around and taking a few steps towards the caves mouth. As soon he had taken only two steps the trinket around his left forehoof began to glow in a red light, sending searing pain through his limb. He recoiled and the pain stopped and the voice in his head, which had risen to a screeching crescendo of noise, normalized to a bearable level again. Upon this he realized that it all was a trap, but it had snapped shut already, so he had no choice but to play along. He turn towards the stairs and descended them, but taking his time, trying against the noise inside his head to form a plan or at least an idea to get out of this. He bemoaned himself to acting so foolish.

How could I be so foolish? This wasn’t my first treasure hunt and I should know already, that this very trinket was enchanted to lure unsuspecting fools into this cave. Oh, this is all the fault of this cursed mare! She…No, Blueblood, there is no time for this know. You have to…to…Ugh, this unholy voice, I can’t think straight! Be quiet, I’m moving, you know! Wait? Did you…did you laugh at me? How dare you? I, Prince Blueblood, will break free of this curse and then I will… his thoughts trailed off as he realized that he had reached the bottom of the cave. The room he was in was frightening in its proportions and in its purpose. The room was as high as it was wide. The light of the mushrooms was replaced by an unworldly, ethereal glow, shimmering in a sickly yellow color. The walls and the floor wore grotesque paintings of some sot which he didn’t dare to look directly upon. Additionally the floor had not one or two, but at least five runes embedded within, all markings filled and oozing with and black, oily, ink-like substance that seemed to shift and churn as he walked towards something that looked like an altar from this distance and position, but it looked somewhat to crude, most altars would be made more skillfully.

As his walk neared the altar he became aware, that this altar was no altar at all, but a coffin, engraved with old runes. He was not able to place them and even if he could, the voice in his head, which laughed and cackled victoriously, made it impossible to finish even the smallest of thoughts. But be it as it may, the sights alone were enough to send a shiver down his spine, awaking a more primitive part of him, telling him to bolt, to flee, but no matter how loud this side of his mind screamed it was more and more drowned out by the laughter of the being which had betrayed him and led him into this Celestia-forsaken cave. He summoned all the will he could and dug his hooves into the ground, stopping his walk to the coffin for a moment. He tried to force his body to turn, but he succeeded only in moving forward, his newest failure accompanied by the dark laughter of the enemy in his mind.

All his struggle was in vain, finally reaching the coffin. Mentally too weak to use his magic to lift the top with his telekinesis, he simply pushed it open, hoping it would finally would silence the voice. After the top hit the ground, a pitiful whimper escaped Blueblood, as he saw what was inside. Before him lay the bodily remains of nopony less than the feared and abhorred King Sombra, the very Unicorn who used dark magic to enslave and terrorize his own subjects. The very being, whose soul had been trapped in eternal ice only mere months ago, Blueblood was too shocked to move even so his mind was no longer haunted by the dead King’s voice. It took Blueblood a good while, but finally he saw it, there, on the ankle of Sombras left forearm was a missing piece of jewelry, the very trinket he so foolishly had bought in the dimly lit shop of this merchant. It was to his great horror, that he himself was about to bring him this missing piece. He realized in a sudden flash of clearance, that he was not the first, but merely the last of many inauspicious adventurers, who sought fortune and fame only to end in this unholy cave. With very realization, his already diminished will gave way and he ceased his remaining fighting against his fate. With a defeated, pained sigh he placed the jewelry in its rightful place.

Blueblood was somewhat disappointed that nothing happened immediately, but as he tried to leave, he noticed, that he couldn’t, magically bound in place, forced to witness whatever sick, twisted ritual was bound to take place.

Suddenly there was a low howling sound, barely audible, but it grew in volume, louder and louder until it seemed to Blueblood, like the whining of a tortured soul, ripped from its body, misplaced somewhere, bound by dark magic. He allowed himself a short chuckle in light of this clichéd description but it died as quickly as it arisen. There, amidst the bones and the jewelry, enchanted with dark magic, gathered black smoke, which shifted, churned and twisted. Black bands of forsaken magic began to coil around the remains, connecting themselves with the bones and the jewelry. The howling of the soul had ascended to a shriek, but begun to wind down into an uproarious laughter as the smoke inside the coffin started to gain shape and form. It took Blueblood quite some time to realize that he wailed like the forsaken soul, the soul of King Sombra. He looked on in horrified wonder as the form of the accursed King grew more pronounced until the body of said warlock King, who was a monster to any Unicorn foal in whole Equestria, was unmistakable.

“Yess! Vessel!” Sombra hissed in his husky tone and Blueblood could take nothing more than to stare on in pure terror as he was lifted into the air by dark magic and Sombras very soul was channeled into his being on the sinister King’s command. Searing pain coursed through his very core as Blueblood essence was torn apart, his mind shattered into fragments, his body burned with fire hotter than aunt Celestia’s sun. He didn’t care if he was weak in the end, he cried like he had the last time as he was but a mere foal, wishing that it would just end.

Why me? was his last conscious thought.

^v^v^v

Blueblood awoke some time later, he didn’t know how much time, but the pain that coursed through his system told him that he must be alive, but he didn’t know why. The last thing he knew was…Sombra! Blueblood bolted upright and looked around. He was still in this forsaken cave, somewhere in the Crystal Mountains. A sudden surge of vertigo brought him back to his knees and he groaned loudly.

I should be dead by now, shouldn’t I? I would be simply ridiculous if… “Uhg…” Blueblood cried out in sudden pain and held his temples with his hooves.

No, for it was I that was dead, bat you pathetic fool are my vessel now. Don’t try to fight me, it only will grant you pain and suffering for the time I need to share this body with your ridiculous excuse for a soul, but don’t worry, I will turn your body into something to be envied. It’ll be a pity that you won’t be around to witness it. But for now, I will allow you control, I’m still weak but don’t worry about simple old me, Blueblood shuddered as Sombras voice echoed through his skull, grating on his mind. If he wanted to fight his inevitable doom, he had to comply for the moment. He would play along, back on the way or in Canterlot itself there he would sure come up with a plan to get rid of Sombras soul and if he had to tell aunt Celestia, so help him her sister, he would do it. He would not go down without a fight.
.

As he stood up and walked slowly up the stairs, he noticed, that his body gained strength on an unnatural rate. He stopped where he had laid off his cloak and supplies, taking his time to put them on, the whole time accompanied with the low, dark and quiet snicker of King Sombras essence. After he had put his cloak and supplies back on and adjusted his hood, he allowed himself a swig from one of his water bottles. Sombra seemed to not care, instead it seemed to Blueblood that his cruel companion had withdrawn himself, taking his time to rest and get accustomed to ‘his’ new body. Blueblood allowed himself a smile. If Sombra had to strengthen himself before he had control over his full powers, Blueblood probably was able to find a solution. But he needed to act fast, he could feel how his mind slipped away, lost its grip on reality and if that happened completely, his soul would be damned to wander among this plane aimlessly, never to find the ultimate peace. At least his mind fought back, allowing him to hold on his existence longer, hopefully long enough to find a cure and to ban Sombras soul back into the darkest corners of Tartarus.

The pony, that had found what it had searched, but not gained what it wanted, adjusted more out of habit than out of necessity one more time its hood and then stepped out into the freezing cold winds of the Crystal Mountains. The wind howled around it, playing a sorrowful chorus as it descended the mountains. The pony, that wasn’t itself anymore, but nor his torturer, turned its walk towards the city of Canterlot, which it once called home and made its way towards the train station that would take it there. Its mind haunted by its unmercyful fate.

Author's Note:

Thanks to Gron for proofreading

Comments

[Sagacity]

Mm. This needs a lot of work. If you're not a native speaker, that's understandable, but I won't go easy on you.

There can't be light without shadows

You're probably just playing with words, but it's really the other way around. Don't forget to capitalize.

harmony and peace prevails

Harmony and peace prevail. Only add the s when your subject is singular.

the darkness, that always fight with

Like here. That should be fights.

the darkness... grows stronger

Ah, there we go.

what if the... enemy rises again without notice.

That's a question, and it needs a question mark.

prince Blueblood is acting

Capitalize prince because it's a title. That means you'd capitalize King Henry but not Henry the king.

acting more hostile then normally?

More hostile than normal. Then is for events happening in sequence, than is for comparisons. Normally isn't modifying anything, so you want the non-adverb form.

[Silverweed]

2506818

There's no need to go easy on me, because only through feedback I'll be able to improve.

Thanks for the pointers, I edited the description and (hopefully) fixed all errors