Sombra. Saga of Hatred

by HiddenUnderACouch

Simple songs

An explosion of a thousand suns. An eternal fire that threatened to consume the world. A dragon’s breath.

There were hundreds and more words that Sombra could use to describe the bright flash that bit his eyes so harshly when he pulled the trigger of the crystal rifle. The bright bolt of pure energy was forcefully ejected from its home and sent to seek and destroy the enemies of Crystal Empire — in this case, a small log.

“Not bad. Not bad,” Rubin purred with delight, eyeing the smoldering flinders as if they’d done him a grievous harm. “You’ve got good aim, but you need to work on your speed.”

He grabbed another log from a pile and put it in the same place where the previous victim of their targeting practice had stood. “Aim is essential, but it’s useless unless you’re fast. In the heat of battle, you won’t have time to aim.”

Deep inside, Sombra hoped he would never find out what it’d be like to aim in the heat of battle. The memories of the bloody struggle against the wolves were still fresh in his memory, even two weeks of hard work and complete absense of free time didn’t drive them out of his mind.

“Try again. This time, try to be fast,” Rubin said, helping Sombra adjust his aim. It was baffling how quickly he’d recovered — his movements were slow and and at times sluggish, a huge part of his body was covered with bandages that he needed to change constantly, but other than that, he was fine.

Another shot and another obliterated log. Thankfully, they had a big stockpile of firewood, so there was no problem with them running out. The real problem was food.

When Sombra remembered about food, he felt loud rumbling in his stomach. It has been so long since he’d truly eaten something. Water with a small patch of hay and a tiny slice of bread were just awful compared to anything he’d eaten before. Especially Krystal’s sandwiches.

Sombra quickly suppressed the memories of that name and focused his attention entirely on aiming. Just as Rubin had told him: there should be nothing except him, his rifle and his target. Deep breath. Now pull.

“Alright, you took two seconds less than before. I salute you,” Rubin sneered, looking at the remains of the log. “I think that’s enough for today. Head home and rest a while. You’ve got a long day ahead of you.”

Sombra nodded, getting up and grabbing the rifle with his magic. With a swift nod of his head, he gently slid it back into the holster, then picked it up and threw it to Rubin. The elder pony caught it with ease.

When Sombra entered the house, he felt the warm air engulf him completely, making him feel incredibly lethargic. He only managed to shake it off after Rubin closed the door behind them with a rather loud bang, but the tiredness still clinged to him.

“I think I’ll hit the bed now.” Sombra yawned, stretching a bit. Rubin nodded in acknowledgement.

“One of the most important requirements of a good soldier.” He giggled and immediately regretted it, when the giggle resonated in his body with a sharp pain in the side. “I’ll follow your example. Just got to change my bandages…”

Rubin slowly trotted upstairs while Sombra proceeded to Orthoclase’s, or, to be precise, their room. Before he could reach it, however, he met his roommate in the corridor, just a few steps from the door.

“Oh, hello there, Sombra.” Orthoclase greeted him. Their relationships had improved greatly after they been assaulted. Orthoclase stopped pushing his authority, and, sometimes in the evening, they would even share a laugh or two after telling jokes. None of them knew any good ones, though.

Orthoclase’s wounds were much less severe than Rubin’s, so he recovered much quicker. The wounds on his shoulders were gone, leaving behind two small scars; he could walk with ease, but Zlata still insisted he keep his hooves bandaged.

“Hello,” Sombra replied, intending to pass by Orthoclase, when he suddenly got right in his path. “Excuse me?”

“I just wanted to ask a question. Have you ever been to the town?” Orthoclase asked.

“Ehm, no. Why are you asking?”

“Oh, that’s great. Would you like to? I was just going out for a stroll. Care to join?”

At first, Sombra wanted to refuse, but some kind of force beyond his control made him nod his head a few times. He couldn’t fathom what it was — was he possessed, insane, or just plain bored. Somehow, the weariness slowly faded from his muscles when he thought that it was a chance for him to meet new ponies.

It’d been so long since he’d seen new faces. Rubin, Zlata, Orthoclase — he’d gotten used to them so fast.

“That’s great. Come on now, let’s go. I’m sure my friends are going to be excited to meet somepony like you.” Orthoclase trotted past Sombra, nodding at him to follow. “Just try not to take all the glory for yourself.”

“No promises.” Sombra replied in such a soulless tone it surprised even himself. “No promises.” He repeated in a more lively tone.

Maybe the old childish insult spoke true and he indeed needed to go out more.

***

An eery feeling of loneliness struck Sombra as he and Orthoclase walked the snow-filled streets of Granitza. Gracefully maneuvering between the small wooden buildings, each looking more rundown than the previous, Ortho didn’t even notice his comrade falling behind.

The town of Granitza, despite being on the border, looked incredibly poor. The buildings were mostly short and wooden, each more run down than the next. Surrounded by these darkened wooden dwarves, far away from Sombra, stood a glorious construction of stone and wood. The windows were few and far between, but every single one of them was covered with blinds, visible even from far away because of their blood red colour.

This was the only building that looked remotely presenteble, aside from officers’ houses, which were all built away from main streets. Maybe whoever ran Granitza did not want the beauty of his town hall rivaled by tiny officer estates. Sombra imagined what it would be like to look out the window and see the tiny houses below, each one like a small bump in the ground.

“Hey, wake up! We won’t get anywhere if you daydream all the time.” Orthoclase’s remark snapped Sombra out of his dreams and he hastily caught up with him. “Admiring the town hall, huh?”

“Yes… It looks very unusual. Quite… misplaced.” Sombra tried to soften his words, but Orthoclase probably had already figured that his town was in severe disrepair.

“You could say that. But trust me, it’s much better in summer. It’s not too warm but the streets are much busier, and there’s much more to do.”

Sombra nodded and shivered when a chilling wind ran through, ruffling his mane. The streets, indeed, were empty — not even traces of hoofsteps anywhere. From a distance, it might seem that this place was dead, but in every window of each small wooden house Sombra could see light.

“Tell me… is everypony here part of the army?” Sombra looked away from the windows as if afraid that somepony would look back.

“Every male, yes. To our Motherland we swear, no foe shall cross alive! Ever heard that song?” Orthoclase slowed down a bit. “If you haven’t, you eventually will. Father knows it by heart. You can wake him up at night and ask him to sing it — he’d do that.”

“I see…” Sombra sighed, looking around with uneasiness. The eerie quietness made him feel uncomfortable. “Where are we going, anyway? Where are we supposed to meet your friends?”

“We’re close, don’t worry.” Orthoclase pranced a little, to keep himself warm. “By the way, I really wanted to ask you: have you ever been to the capital?”

The capital… Sombra turned grim at the very mention of that word. There was nothing but painful memories of filth filled streets, roaring guards, the sour smell of low quality alcohol and the wet squelchy ground he dug into. He felt a little sick when the flood of memories filled his head.

“No, I’ve never been there.” Sombra spat on the ground, trying to get the bad taste out of his mouth.

“That’s a real shame. I heard that there are no houses - only castles instead! And each castle is made entirely out of crystals. I wonder how it’d feel like to live inside a crystal palace.”

“Hah.” Sombra couldn’t help but sneer. “I doubt there’s anything like that, Ortho… Well, maybe in the central districts, close to the Emperor’s palace.”

“Perhaps. But I really want to see it with my own eyes one day.” Orthoclase replied in a strangely dreamy voice. “Oh, also, we’re there.”

The pair was standing in front of a small wooden hut. The desiccated walls had given away to age, rot and insects, and it felt like the slightest buck would knock the tiny hut straight down. Who would live here? Sombra wondered. Judging that it was seated at the very edge of the town, right next to the wilderness, he guessed that a forester would live here.

“Is this where your friends live?” he wondered, eyeing the hut up close.

“No. We just meet here. An old forester used to live here, but he left Granitza ages ago. It is deserted.” Orthoclase said, approaching the door and pushing it open. “Come on in, don’t be shy.”

Sombra didn’t really know what to expect of this little hideout of Ortho’s. He didn’t even know whether his friends would accept him into their little circle, if he would want to join at all.

The inside of the hut looked much more presentable than the outside. The floor was wet and squeaky, the boards let out a long sqealch even from the lightest step. The sour-sweet smell of rotting wood filled the air, intoxicating Sombra’s unprepared mind as he reeled back and forth a little. Only after setting his brains straight with a few shakes, he noticed a pony besides him and Orthoclase occupying the hut.

A robust dark-green-hued crystal pony with dozens of tiny scars and scratches on his forelegs, was lying in a pile of hay, his hindlegs crossed. When Orthoclase closed the door behind them, he quickly rose up and looked at the newcomers.

“Oh lookie here. Our princess has finally returned.” He seemed not to have noticed Sombra until a split second later. “Oh… erm, hi.”

He shook his blonde mane, trying his best to shake the hay out of it. He growled in frustration, noticing even more hay stuck in his coat and started angrily swiping it.

Before he could finish cleaning himself, another pony entered Sombra’s sight: a lazy yawn could be heard before a maroon-hued stallion leaned from behind a small courtain. His short dark green mane looked sparkly and greasy in the light of an oil lamp, hanging under the ceiling.

“Hello Orth. Who’s that with you?” he murmured, shaking his head slightly. It seemed as though he had just awoken.

“Hello, guys! Long time no see!” Orthoclase said, approaching the green one and they hoofbumped. “Come on, Sombra, introduce yourself. Don’t be shy.”

Sombra took a few seconds to set his mind straight again and finally spoke up. “I’m Sombra… I’m… not from around here.”

“Sombra? That’s not a name you would hear everyday.” The freshly risen pony yawned and lazily dragged himself off the big pile of rags. “I’m Nev. The full name’s Nevinnyi, but that’s too long. Just call me Nev.”

“I’m Bulat. Sweet, strong and no need for shortenings.” The big pony said. His name fit him well, Sombra thought. In ancient crystallian poemas, bulat was a legendary metal, which was used to forge the most powerful of weapons. Nowadays, it was a synonym for a really sturdy material.

“Unimaginitive, don’t forget to add that.” Nev snickered, shaking his backside. “That has to be the lamest name I’ve ever heard.”

“Up yours, moron.” Bulat replied jokingly as he approached Sombra and extended his foreleg, offering a greeting. “Nice to meet you, Sombra. Welcome to the crew.”

“So, Orthoclase, where have you been hiding all this time? We’ve tried to pay you a visit, but to no avail, each time. Your mom told us you’re… sick. That’s not true, is it?” Nev murmured, looking at Orthoclase’s hooves.

“It was true… partially. Take a seat — it’s quite a tale.” Orthoclase’s face just seemed to say ‘your jaws are going to drop’.

---

Orthoclase proved himself to be quite the story teller. Every sentence was generously accompanied by excellent rhetoric. Even Sombra had to pause looking around and listen.

He started from the very beginning, briefly describing how Sombra was found and cared for, and right up to the great battle with the wolves.

“With the last wolf slain, we thought we were safe. We were gravely mistaken.” Orthoclase whispered the words like some sort of a spell, immediately drawing Nev’s and Bulat’s complete attention.

“What happened? Come on, stop beating around the bush. Say it!” Bulat pleaded, looking at Ortho with eagerness.

“The white alpha…” Orthoclase proudly announced and paused to let the thought sink into his listeners’ brains.

Nev and Bulat turned awfully quiet and looked at each other. Such a colorful array of emotions was in display between them — the most powerful among them being disbelief. And it was disbelief who triumphed over all other emotions; they exploded into roaring laughter.

“Oh, my! And I thought you were serious! Silly me, ha-ha!” Nev uttered under his breath. Bulat didn’t say anything, he just laughed louder.

“I am being serious! There was the white alpha right there, right in front of us!” Orthoclase sounded hurt and angry. Nev ceased laughing, only occassional giggles interrupting his speech.

“You really don’t know better if you’re saying things like that. If you really saw the white alpha, you would not be standing here in front of us. I once met a soldier who met the white alpha face to face.” He suddenly approached Orthoclase and pointed at his feet. “He was missing all of his legs. All of them!”

“I’ll have to agree with Nev on this one.” Bulat calmed down from his laughing fit too. “What the white alpha sees, it shall kill. Or, at least, cripple horribly.”

Sombra took a deep breath and stepped up. After all they had been through, it would be such a waste for their story to be brushed off as a simple fairtytale.

“He’s telling the truth. We saw the white alpha, and we didn’t die,” he stated firmly. Both Nev and Bulat looked at him with surprise.

“Hah! Will you believe me now?! You can’t argue with the witness!” Orthoclase exclaimed, delivering a lethal ‘take that!’ to his friends.

Bulat and Nev stood silent for a couple of minutes, and a feeling of uneaseness descended upon the little hut. Sombra even started to regret his decision to back Orthoclase up. This silence was stiffling.

“So… you saw it coming… then what happened?” Nev asked, still clinging to his disbelief.

“We stood still, motionless. It approached us and then… left.” Sombra spoke from the bottom of his heart. “I know it sounds like a pile of bullshit, but it’s true.”

Bulat hummed loudly, trying to decide whether he should believe them or not. Nev too looked troubled and confused as well. Then, he uttered a hopeless growl and lowered his head.

“Fine, then. It appears Orthoclase’s telling the whole truth, for a change.” Nev nodded and Bulat followed suit.

“I hope that’s a valid enough reason for me to be absent.” Orthoclase grinned, celebrating his victory over his friends. “So, what do you have planned for today?”

That was a question Sombra wanted to ask for a long time. They wouldn’t just hang out in this old hut all the time, they had to do something worthwhile. Deep inside Sombra felt a slight shimmer of hope that whatever they would be doing was legal. Going back to the way it was before — no, he would rather die.

“Well, it’s nothing out of the ordinary: we’ll go help the soldiers at the walls,” Nev replied in a bored voice. Oh, yes, the walls. Sombra had seen those massive constructions. They stood on the border, both its ends incising into the mountains that protected its sides.

The position of Granitza was quite cleverly chosen. It was located in a wide passageway between two steep mountain sides. If under siege, it would take the enemy months to bring the walls down or cross over them. More than enough time for reinforcements to arrive.

“Well, then, it is decided. Let’s head out!” Orthoclase exclaimed and trotted out of the hut. The rest three followed suit, but Bulat and Nev kept distance from Orthoclase, both wanting to strike a conversation with the newcomer.

“So, what do you think about our little town, Sombra? Better than any other places you’ve seen in your travels?” Nev looked up into the sky and sighed. Sombra shrugged in reply.

“It’s… okay, I guess,” he said, looking around, still finding the buildings unnerving.

“Granitza’s a great town. You just came at the wrong time — when it’s at its worst.” Bulat butted into the conversation. “Just survive till the summer. It’s a gorgeous time of year.”

Something told Sombra that Bulat meant ‘survive’ in the most literal way possible.

“Bulat’s right. Everything blooms in summer. The trees, the grass, the sky. Everything.” Nev smiled as he continued to look up. “Especially the sky.”

“Oh, quit your poem crap, Nev. It’s not the trees’ bloom you should be on the lookout for.” Bulat’s mouth widened in a smug grin. “It’s the mares, Sombra! The best thing about summer!”

Sombra felt a river crawling into his eyes, ready to spill out, but he drove it back relentlessly. She was in the past now. He had to forget her. He had to move on.

“Sometimes it amazes me, Bulat, how you fail to comprehend the beauty of anything beside a well-rounded ass.” Nev stiffled a chuckle.

“Oh, then go ahead and kiss a tree, smartass.” Bulat replied in a joking manner. “Can a tree ever hug you? Or invite you over to her house and…”

“Okay, okay, I get it, I can’t fuck a tree.” The sky failed to hold Nev’s attention anymore and he turned to Bulat.

“Well, if you try very hard…” Sombra said the first thing that came to his mind when it concerned fucking trees. Bulat and Nev glanced at each other and then exploded into laughter.

“Oh my… Oh, Emperor… “ Bulat uttered, constantly interrupted by his own laughter. “I just imagined it… Nev climbs up the tree and then humps it till the leaves fall off!”

“Oh by the Gods I can feel the splinters! Aaargh…” Nev’s face twisted in an expression of excruciating pain. Sombra didn’t know why, but he found it extremely amusing.

He suddenly realized that he hadn’t had a good laugh in quite a while. With Krystal, making crude jokes was never an option, often ending in a slight smack to the head from her and Iron Wheel was just straight up unfunny.

“Talking about oblong pride, how does it feel to have something like this growing out of your head?” Nev poked Sombra’s horn slightly.

“It’s okay, I guess. At times I feel like it’s not even there. Maybe I just got used to it,” he replied, dodging another poke aimed at his horn. “What, have you never seen a horn before?”

“I have. But I never touched a horn before.” Realizing what he’d said, Bulat’s cheeks became fiery red. “That… came out wrong.”

“Well, at least you didn’t say how polished and sleek it was.” Nev added and the trio burst into laughter. Orthoclase turned around with a confused look on his muzzle, which quickly forced the three to shut up.

“Come on, guys, hurry up,” he urged them, and Bulat quickly went from a peaceful trot to a slightly faster one, leaving Nev and Sombra behind.

“But seriously, it’s a great town. You just have to watch carefully if you want to see its true beauty. It could come up at any moment,” Nev said thoughtfully as he rushed to his crew.

Sombra slowed down for a moment and looked around, taking a good look at his surroundings. The old rundown houses, covered in snow and ice, a big stone wall with a few banners of Crystal Empire and the local noble swaying peacefully on top, the clear deep blue sky above his head...

What kind of charm would he find in all of this? Sombra didn’t know, but he felt like there was a lot of charm to discover. Maybe not in sightseeing, but in ponies who lived here. Who knew? He had only began his jorney to make this place his home.

Besides, if Bulat was to be trusted, he should wait until summer to see the best Granitza had to offer.

***

Sombra carefully leaned on the stone bulkhead and looked outside, into the distand land. He never bothered to inquire about what country Crystal Empire bordered with here and only just now did the soldier, who’d given them the task, unveil the mystery. It was shocking, to say the least — the Pegasi Republic.

Their lands were spread to the very horizon, free of any deep or dark woods or ugly hills. Only in the very distance Sombra could see a small patch of green — probably the forest. The sun was right over his head, and it created a strange illusion of a pacifying soft light pouring from the sky.

“Looks beautiful, doesn’t it?” Nev asked, leaning on the bulkhead as well. “This sight might be the only reason to come to the wall. It’s hypnotizing, really.”

“Yes, it is.” Sombra nodded in agreement and continued to stare on the beautiful landscape. Eventually, both ponies turned away and looked at their comrades, who were busy emptying the sacks of dirt on the slippery surface of the wall. That was the task the sergeant, a short dark blue hued pony with a cleanly shaved head, had given them — the most boring of the bunch, as Orthoclase said.

“You know, I really hope we will get something more exciting than throwing dirt on the ice when we’re enlisted.” Nev murmured, as both he and Sombra trotted towards their friends. “Oh, who am I kidding? That’s all we will be doing.”

“It’s not that boring.” Sombra suddenly sighed. “At least you get to enjoy the view.”

“It will get boring, eventually.” Nev replied in a saddened voice. “Everything will. There’s nothing so beautiful or breathtaking in this world that can hold your attention forever.”

No, Nev, there is, Sombra thought to himself but kept quiet, as they walked. For a moment, he thought what being a soldier would be like. Bearing through hardships, listening to your supperiors all the time, marching, fighting — that was all he knew about it. At least, what he could gather from Rubin’s lectures. Sombra was surprised to admit to himself that he was actually looking forward to it.

“How’s it going, Bulat?” Nev snickered evilly, when they walked up to the two exhausted ponies. “Need any help?”

“Yeah. It’s your turn, smartass.” Bulat replied, dropping a huge sack of dirt down on the stone floor and sighing contendently. “This is so damn exhausting.”

“Of course, you’re hauling it on your back!” Orthoclase exclaimed. “But we really do need a break, I guess. Five minutes and then back to work.”

Bulat nodded and then slumped down near the bulkhead, gasping for air. No pony, even as strong as him, could carry around this damn dirt for too long.

“Agreed. Five minutes is all I need.” Nev smiled, choosing himself a more reclosed place, a little away from the rest. Orthoclase sat down near Bulat instead.

Sombra turned around and looked at the town below him: from up here, it looked even more puny and cringeworthy. It was like Crystal City’s slums, but much smaller and twice as snowy and lifeless. And yet… Sombra felt warmer at its sight than in the capital. Granitza might not look fancy, but here he’d found a new family, new friends… Maybe he would find love too. Just maybe.

“Damn, it’s so boring… Say…” Bulat suddenly beamed as he turned to Nev. “Nev, are you up for some singing?”

“What?! No! No, no and no!” Nev responded angrily, swinging his hooves at Bulat as if he was offering him something nasty. “I don’t want to be laughed at again.”

Sombra turned around and looked at Nev when he heard his words. Singing… The memory of Lucia’s melodic voice was still present in his memory, and at times he would die to hear something as beautiful as that.

“Come on, Nev! I’m not going to laugh, I promise!” Bulat pleaded with a grin on his face, to which Nev replied with an angry scowl.

“I said no. And that’s final.” He kept his unrelenting defence even after Orthoclase joined in. The more they begged him, the louder Nev’s refusals sounded, and the stronger Sombra’s interest grew.

“How many times do I have to say no?” Nev murmured much to Ortho’s and Bulat’s dissapointment, but suddenly Sombra sat down by their side.

“You sing? I never would have thought,” he said.

“Well… I know a few songs but that doesn’t mean I can sing. I just… practise from time to time.” Nev looked away and blushed slightly.

“Come on, sing for us. At least this time. Please.” Sombra felt rather weird as he spoke those words. He hadn’t asked for anything from anybody for a long time.

“I, eh… ugh… Fine. Okay.” Nev cleared his throat as three friends settled down and prepared to listen. At least, Sombra was prepared. Nothing could disturb him — not the chilling wind, not the cold biting his backside. At this point of time, he became all ears.

The world turned quiet and even the wind seemed to cease when Nev took a deep breath and began to sing. His voice was different, so vastly different from Lucia’s, and yet Sombra understood they were two different things that could not be compared. Lucia sung of high feelings, of heroic deeds and impossible future, and her voice was supposed to represent that.

Nev, on the other hoof, sung about simple things. His song was that of a farmer, who walked across the field, covered in heavy snow. At first, Nev’s voice was shaking as if he was about to cry, as he spoke about the difficulties and hardships simple ponies have to endure to even see the light of the next day. But as he sung, he turned more and more bright, and the final couplets were sung in a loud, firm voice, that proclaimed the triump of good. Triumph of simple ponies, who would come to this field after winter, settle down, build houses, grow fields and prosper. Whatever was coming their way, they would get through it.

He sung about simple things, simple things that anypony who was distant from art or high feelings could understand. His voice wasn’t flowing like Lucia’s, it was flying along with the wind, like its equal.

Sombra closed his eyes as he listened to Nev, all heavy thoughts gone from his mind, swept away like dust. He was only sure about one thing: everything would get better, if he’d make it so. Through pain, suffering and other hardships he would reach a better future — a future where he could finally be with those he loved.

It made him so happy.

Comments

[ledezma25]

nice chapter

[Slip Kid]

And then soldiers from the capital ransack the place, kill everyone and capture Sombra, 'cus this story ain't gonna have a happy ending.

[Cerulean Voice]

Awww.
This makes for a nice change of pace. I got a very clear image of Granitza in my head from the descriptions.
This whole chapter felt very Game of Thrones-y, personally. Characters well realised, and the bit about the singing at the end was kinda cool too. I actually stopped reading for a few moments and just closed my eyes.

So, when's it all going to hell?

[ZyferKazumi]

This capture was so great ^~^ I'm so exiting now <3

[Shining Dawn]

Once again, the story manages to be more than just words.

[ZyferKazumi]

I love your works. It's like I have read all of your stuff after anothe, but this is absolutely the best story I've ever read in my life. Every upload you made my day. now I beg you "pleeeeeeaaase continue the story-hy-hy. Pleaaaaasssseeeeeee!"

ps. Nice icon but I guess this fanart: http://fc03.deviantart.net/fs70/f/2013/026/8/3/_someday_they_will_be_the_slaves_____by_wolframclaws-d5sr5c0.png
Would look far better in my opinion yay!

[HiddenUnderACouch]

5894648 I'm glad you enjoy my work, and I promise that I'll definitely continue Saga. After all, how can I abandon my magnum opus?

P.S. I'm afraid I disagree with your choice of cover art, though. It goes against what I believe is the point of the story, it simplifies Sombra's character far too much.

[ZyferKazumi]

5894900
You are the Boss

[Ice Star]

Things can't stay this way forever.