The Tale of One Shadow

by RadBunny

Chapter Eighteen: Pressure Cracks or Creates

The pink shield crackled and spat angry sparks, but never yielded. Despite five unicorns focusing solid streams of dark magic on the barrier, it held strong. The throne room bore scars of war; rock melted and twisted from deflected beams, windows blown out, and a few dead ponies from both sides. The throne ripped from its roots and shoved to its side for protection, a pink shield covered it and the occupants underneath.

Beneath its protective embrace, Shining Armor stood firm, guarding his unconscious wife and four wounded guards. Blood ran down from a series of slices across his muzzle; sweat plastering his mane to his neck. This was the unicorn who had protected Canterlot; keeping the shield up was taxing, but not impossible. Going on the offensive while powering the shield and not having any of the deadly beams strike his guards or wife on the other hoof….

They had been caught completely off guard. They had trained for rogue elements in the castle, the assassinations or riots, but a full blown attack? Who would have anticipated cultists striking down guards and civilians alike?
The unicorn’s focus drifted from the five attackers, three other ponies who were observing, and to a larger individual with a ragged crimson robe- clearly the individual in charge of this group.
What brought hope to Shining’s heart, was this robed individual looked nervous, even more so as a dull rumble echoed from one of the adjoining hallways to the main throne room.
The stallion sighed with pity as a bloodied individual scrambled out of the hallway- but too slowly. Red crystals shot from the ruined doorway, pinning the offender to the wall, a final finishing him off between the eyes. The unearthly roar that echoed around the room caused the unicorn’s concentration to waver, and then shift.
But by then it was too late.

A grim expression dawned onto Shining’s muzzle as Sombra galloped into view, his eyes ablaze with white fire. The cultists were skilled fighters, but this stallion had been trained in a different time, a time when no quarter was given.

The three stallions rushed him, the larger leader motioning with a hoof as he grabbed a fallen halberd. The three ponies managed to score a glancing blow with a crystal sword, but it did nothing but score the armor on the vengeful warrior. The sword was blown aside, a red crystal weapon shattering the other before it plunged into the attackers chest. The other two hesitated, and in that moment, a crystal exploded from the floor, neatly impaling one as the other began to run.
He didn’t make it far- the red sword sped after him, severing his spine with an almost casual flick.

The leader only managed a choked gasp as Sombra charged, the halberd useless as it bounced off red crystals that rained in a storm around the armor-clad stallion.
Now all five unicorns shifted their focus, beams of energy licking out towards Sombra, who stood still with his mouth open, chest heaving to catch his breath.
The armor flashed as the magic attempted to eat away at metal and flesh, but quickly lost their purchase as Sombra began to move. Ducking and dodging, the stallion moved at a dead run, skidding this way and that to dodge the powerful strikes. The nearest unicorn’s horn was shattered with a hoof to the head-
And that was all the space Shining needed.
His shield flickered out of existence, pink bolts lancing out to spear three of his attackers; they were dead before they hit the ground.
The final unicorn only gasped, being held off the floor by Sombra’s red crystal blades. His eyes lacking pupils and emanating a similar deadly aura, Sombra ripped the sword clear after looking around to Shining, asking only one word.
“Amber?”

Shining looked over to Sombra, shaking his head.
“I…don’t know. The gardens, I think. It all happened so fast. Can you-”
The stallion was off at a gallop, not even slowing as two more cultists charged from the main hall. Guards from Shining’s division finally arrived, but they could only watch in amazement and horror as Sombra summoned the two red crystal swords and slit the attacker’s throats, not even breaking stride. His vision only encompassed one goal….one pony.

Passing by a dead cultist, the stallion paused as a familiar pony staggered out of the winding staircase to one of the towers, blood staining his robes.
“Sombra! Thank goodness; where is Amber? Silas asked, panting as he nodded to the dead cultist.
“I nailed that coward when I first arrived here. It’s-How did-?” Sombra didn’t say anything, only looking over to the older pony. The stallion had met with them a few times, giving a few tips and hints on how to integrate to society. Silas even managed to get them a special reservation at a restaurant when he and Amber had needed a break from everything….
“Amber?” Sombra managed to ask, prompting Silas’ eyes to widen.
“Oh no. That must have been her.” He whispered, pointing a hoof to the tower.

“I only saw a glimpse of them all. I couldn’t take them all on, the guard nearly got me. Five ponies, with another pony, one with a bag over their head.” Silas then growled, shaking his head.
“It was Pens. Pens Stroke-he had some sort of artifact, and was laughing. Wait here, and I’ll go get-”
“No.” Was the steadfast reply, causing Silas to nod.
“No room for argument then? Well, best of luck my friend.” He whispered, galloping off down the hall, slicing the throat of an approaching cultist to clear a path for any survivors.
The aura overtook Sombra’s vision again as he galloped up the stairs, horrible visions of Amber’s fate assaulting his mind. The door was closed, and promptly blown off its hinges. A red sword took aim, ready to slice any offenders or threats to the one he loved-
The room was empty.

The aura sputtered and faded, numb shock taking place of rage and anger. No, the room wasn’t empty, there was a pony lying behind the desk.
This was Pens Stroke’s office.
Said pony was panting on the ground, a magical burn spearing through his side. He narrowed his eyes, a dagger levitating up to then drop to the ground. A slain cultist lay beside the stallion, his robes used to staunch the bleeding from lacerations along Pens’ fetlocks.
“Somba, how are you?” Pens panted, then shook his head slowly.
“Of course. You let him go. He played us both.”
Sombra growled, glaring at the fallen pony.

“What are you talking about? Where is Amber? I only saw Silas-”
“Who do you think did this to me? I bloodied that traitor though, what did he tell you, that I captured Amber? Tortured her?” He let out a choked cough, shaking his head.
“I never liked you Sombra, but I did everything I could to help you, even if it was behind the scenes. Silas came here with a few guards, hit me with a bolt and left another pony to finish me off. Then he must have waited for you.”
The wounded stallion struggled to stand, breathing heavily.
“The central gardens is where I last saw Amber. You know this all is about you…it will be a trap?” He asked, looking to Sombra expectantly.

“But, I doubt you care. Go then, and end this.”
Sombra’s sword levitated off the floor as he nodded curtly, Pens following behind down the stairs, a bit slower of course. Once in the hallway, Sombra was met by two more cultists- one actually managing to bite into his armor with a sword before being pinned to the wall by a crystal.

Sombra was then forced to his knees, exhaustion threatening to dull any movement or thought. He was spent, but couldn’t stop. It was all probably to plan, but at that moment, he didn’t care. He hadn’t been there for his family once.
He wasn’t about to make that same mistake again.

First the front hoof, then the other. The back legs then shuddered as they tensed, the stallion putting one hoof in front of the other, slowly gaining speed. It was a trot instead of an all-out gallop, but he was moving, always moving towards her.

The way was clear to the gardens, dead bodies of guard, cultist, and civilian alike lining the sides of the crystal passage. Blood soaked the floor, yet Sombra pressed on. So much death, in a place once so pure. They must have been caught completely off guard….

A whimper drew his attention; an armored pony shivering against a pillar, spear clutched to his chest. Blood stained the earth pony’s shimmering fur, and his eyes clearly were wide with shock.
But, it was not his own blood.
Sombra trotted over, calmly lifting the pony up to stand on his own legs. A noise drew his attention, and a few shocked cooks and waiters peeked out from a side room, clearly having taken cover for the majority of the attack.
“Are you not a guard?” Sombra asked flatly, angling the terrified stallion’s head towards the stunned civilians. The guard’s demeanor steadied, and after Sombra rapped his helmet with a hoof, he trotted shakily off towards the survivors, leading them to safety.
Amber would have wanted to save everyone she could.

The large doors leading to the gardens were blown to pieces, and dead bodies lay strewn this way and that. The cultists had shattered any physical barriers, clearly having planned this all for some time.
Sombra’s blood ran cold as he spotted a familiar object in the center pavilion, next to a dead cultist. What made this casualty different was that a hoof-sized hole occupied where his heart and lungs should have been.
The spent weapon lay on the ground, next to a note.
Sombra,
I will spare the semantics. You have something I need. So, your life for Amber’s. The ruins on the outskirts of the city, south-west corner. Do not make me start taking pieces out of her. You have until nightfall. Come alone.
-Silas Necross.

Sombra levitated the weapon up with a shaky grip, as well as a pair of familiar saddlebags. A spare three shots lay in the bottom; and one was reloaded, as Amber had shown him.
Underneath the case for the weapon, a bit of crimson poked through.
Withdrawing the item carefully, horror accompanied the tears that began to trace their way down the stallion’s cheeks.
Hanging in his shaky magical grip was a familiar red scarf.
There was no more exhaustion. The scarf floated up around his neck, Sombra’s entire being vibrating from rage.
Things really haven’t changed much; I trust someone to guard someone I hold dear...

Shining directed a few more guards to treat the wounded, the throne room serving as a staging area for all the casualties. He paused, looking out the nearby window as a faint howl reached his ears. Past the main hall and windows, he saw a dark figure racing out of the main gates.
A note was then teleported in front of Shining; the same that Sombra had found. Judging from the crimson magic, it had been the stallion to perform the hasty magic.

After reading it over, Shining sighed, shaking his head.
“He’s going to save her, isn’t he?” Cadence whispered, managing to rise to a slight sitting position, the tranquilizing bolt still causing the world to spin.
The Prince nodded, looking across the throne room, and then to his wife. The attack had caught them completely off balance, and reinforcements from Canterlot were just barely arriving. Sombra probably knew as well as Shining, they couldn’t spare any rescue parties for a single individual, Sombra being magically in tune or not.
If what Cadence had told him was remotely correct, the stallion wouldn’t have dared let them interfere regardless. No…he would have gone, orders or not.
“Save her? Yes. And Tartarus help whoever stands in his way.”

Author's Note:

Things picking up to say the least! As always, suggestions or fixes are welcome!
-RB

Comments

[SuperPinkBrony12]

Be careful, Sombra! I'm sure it's obvious but:

[Chibalt]

7441726 With how pissed he is it's more of a trap for them than Sombra honestly.

[Pseudonymous]

"The pink shield sparked and spat angry sparks"
Try "crackled".

Shining can't spare guards for a rescue mission, but he sure as tartarus should be able to spare them to stop the pony leading the attack. Who does he think is going to be there? Carrot top?

[RadBunny]

7445030
Ah, thank you!

He can barely spare enough guards to secure the palace. Considering the attack wiped out quite a few of them, leading them into an obvious trap isn't something he'd even consider.

[MeTaLGuArD]

It was fairly obvious that Silas Necross would be part of something nasty. Few individuals hold a name like that without being cult leaders or dark mages in disguise or something equally nasty. It seems to be an unwritten rule among ponies.

[RadBunny]

7463217
Heh, fair enough! I had a feeling it was too obvious, but decided to go for it.