Dinner With The King

by naturalbornderpy

Chapter 2: Main

CHAPTER TWO:

MAIN

7

While Sombra spoke and fixed his gaze somewhere else, Guest Number Five eyed the King wearily. It was an odd experience to glimpse a legend in such close quarters. Part of him didn’t even seem real, as though the thoughts and stories you told yourself in your head could never quite match what actually existed. Besides the bizarre eyes and the (possibly fake) red horn, the King of the Empire looked about as normal as any other dark stallion. Well, perhaps any stallion that forgets to cut their mane every few weeks.

But what the pegasus found oddest of all was the lack of purple smoke dispersing near the edges of his eyes. Although he had only viewed the King from meters away while he spoke to the entire Empire, couldn’t he have sworn he saw such an anomaly? Or was that merely just another story blown up by the mouths of hundreds, perhaps in a bid to add more menace to their already sadistic King?

Regardless, Guest Number Five was happy to find such a flourishing detail missing.

Sombra continued, “You all appear so nervous to dine with me. I wish it were not so. I only offer you food tonight—possibly the best you’ve ever had.” He raised his head to gently sniff at the air. “And it already smells wonderful in here.”

Since sitting down, the pegasus hadn’t registered a single thing besides a constant burning wood smell emitting from the fire. Not had a single aroma touch his snout. So what was Sombra smelling exactly?

“Let’s begin.”

With his horn, Sombra levitated a small bell near the corner of the table. He jingled it a single time and then set it back down. Less than a few seconds later, a pair of doors from some unseen corner of the dim room flew open and a pair of serving ponies in matching attire came marching out. One held a pitcher of what must have been water while the other held one filled with something red, bordering on purple.

Without a word the pair went around the six of them, filling the two glasses in front of each guest with one of both liquids. Once they’d departed, the pegasus sniffed at his water glass before doing the same to the reddish one. He thought it smelled of rotten grapes mixed with a strong alcohol, but couldn’t put his hoof on it. He’d had grapes on possibly two occasions during his life. Such delicacies were a rare treat to be found in the Empire.

“Have any of you tried wine before?” Sombra asked them pleasantly. “I hear it’s a wonderful alternative to harsher alcohols. And quite cumbersome to find, as well.”

Before a single guest could try either of their libations, the same set of serving ponies did another round and set a silver dome before each of them. In the small amount of time before they unveiled what was being kept underneath, the pegasus couldn’t help but remember what those ponies from his home had muttered outside his door. And here comes the glass, he thought dourly. Or the poison or the blades or the who-knows-what.

Underneath the polished steel dome was a steaming bowl of vegetable soup.

Large chunks of fresh produce swam in a thin but overwhelmingly savory broth. With the lid pulled away the aroma found him instantly and wouldn’t let go. Already his stomach rumbled and he found an odd amount of saliva in his mouth. For untold days he had been close to starving and now the richest—and most tempting of foods—had been placed in front of him.

He was expected to eat although he knew he could not.

After each guest first jumped from what might lay in wait under their domes, they then carefully watched each of the others, individually trying to figure out which direction to go.

“A simple soup to start,” the King told them happily. “With some of the freshest ingredients to be found.”

Guest Number Four with the bruised eye roughly stuck a spoon in and lifted it back up, letting the chunks of potato and vegetable splatter back into the bowl. He turned to Sombra. “You expect me to eat this?”

The King looked unperturbed. “Yes, I do.”

Guest Number Four said, “Even when you’re not eating?”

The faintest of grins touched Sombra’s lips. “I don’t eat… food like you do. I find nourishment from other means. Much more… scarcely found things.”

“Oddly that doesn’t fill me with much hope,” Guest Number Four shot back.

Sombra said no more and turned to the rest—watching curiously.

The silence in the room spun out until the older mare by the pegasus’ side first drank from her wine cup before steadily diving into her steaming bowl. Before each bite from her hovering spoon she gently blew on the broth in a bid to cool it down.

She must imagine she’s at home, Guest Number Five believed. Home with her son and whoever else might be waiting there.

Each guest viewed her with restrained wonder. They were all waiting for the darkness to come enter the scene. It had to have been coming. They knew it was. But in what form? In what way?

A minute passed. Then another. And now the mare’s soup had been finished clean as she dabbed the corners of her mouth with the edge of a napkin. As she stared at her empty bowl, a light smile found her deeply lined face.

It did look like good soup.

When nothing of worry happened to the mare, the bruised stallion across the table roughly plucked up his own wine glass. “Who cares anymore, right? We’re all doomed anyways.” Spilling a substantial amount, he downed his drink in one large pull before slamming it back down. The clash of metal made more than a few of them squirm in their seats.

“Well, that was good!” he shouted to the room. “How ‘bout another?”

Guest Number Four lowered his head to his bowl and loudly gulped it down. With both hooves he brought the bowl up until he returned it back to the table empty. Still with a mouth full of chewy proteins, it appeared as though he was close to choking. Only a few tough swallows later did he open his mouth again to sigh contently.

“What’s coming next?” he asked to no one in particular.

That was the tiny display that most had been waiting for. In just a few movements—and with just a few choice words—Guest Number Four had practically summed up the entire situation. Already they were there. Already any hope of escape had been sealed off by locked doors and dozens of walls of thick crystal. The only way out now was forward. And forward could only mean—

The pegasus brought his spoon to his soup and picked out a few choice vegetables. With a severe tightness in his chest he popped its warm contents into his mouth and swallowed thickly, as part of his throat almost tried to close in on him.

A few more spoonfuls and an odd sensation entered his belly—one of contentment and something more. Joy perhaps? It was hard to tell.

He whispered to himself, “No where else but forward,” before ditching his spoon in favor of bringing the warm bowl to his lips. The rich flavors and hints of spice made his eyes nearly water. He had never experienced something so good in all his life. And how odd it was that he’d be receiving such a treat on his last day of it all.

But everyone deserves a good last meal.

The pegasus licked what broth remained on his lips and lowered his bowl back to his plate. He finally regarded the rest of the guests, and found nearly everyone either finishing their soups or close to it. The wall had been broken and they were passing through—whether by their own will or by that of their deprived stomachs.

Every guest but one.

The unicorn mare in the far corner only trembled where she sat, head bent, studiously studying the steaming bowl in front of her. Maybe she thought no one would notice. She had been sadly mistaken.

“Is their something wrong with your soup, Guest Number Two?” Sombra asked her, glimpsing her with increased interest. “While everyone else is enjoying their meal, you only sit and shake. You are being rather impolite. Especially while your King is being so generous.”

His statement did nothing to quell the unicorn. Instead she only shook more violently while she fretfully scanned the faces of the rest of the guests. If she was looking for some savior, she would find none here. If she was looking for answers, she had dismally been given the same deck of cards as them all.

When the last guest finished their soup, all eyes fell upon her. Even Sombra leaned forward a little in his seat, the edge of one lip pulling up to reveal a single sharp tooth.

Already he was having fun.

When the silence and the attention bore itself too strongly for the unicorn, she huffed out a shaky breath and plucked up her spoon with jittering hooves. To the pegasus seated a ways away, it almost looked as though someone had asked her to eat acid—instead of some delicious soup with fresh carrots and herbs.

The spoon entered her quivering mouth and left clean. For close to twenty seconds she held the contents in her mouth, before gulping it down. Gingerly, she set her spoon back on her napkin.

“I’m done,” she squeaked, hardly a statement.

“No, you are not,” returned the King, a little thicker than before. “You are in my home and I will see that you are fed properly. Before the next course can arrive, every dish must be completed wholly.” He tried his best to smile at her. His smile was the type that didn’t add much humility to the rest of his face. His piercing eyes rarely blinked. “I can almost hear your stomach from here, Guest Number Two. Why would you deny yourself such a wonderful meal?”

The unicorn mare did as she was bid and brought her spoon back to the bowl. Again she glanced at them all. Again nothing of any use came of it.

Less than a minute later had she cleaned her bowl. By that time her shakes had abated and she breathed in not nearly such a hurried fashion. One of her hooves still anxiously rubbed the napkin near her fork.

“Was the soup to your liking, my subjects?” the King asked them.

No one bothered to answer him with words, each only nodded eagerly.

“Then for that I am glad.”

His smile widened. Renewed excitement filled his eyes.

The pegasus seated next to him felt his up-until-then warm stomach grow cold. Their King was waiting for something. Something bad. Something was about—

The unicorn in the corner gripped her napkin with force before she brought up both hooves to her neck as she struggled for air. Both eyes bulged horrendously outward as she flew into spasms against her hardwood chair. In one horrendous motion she slammed her emaciated chest into the narrow table, a large cough spilling dozens of droplets of blood onto her bowl and nearly reaching the awestruck stallion sitting across from her. After this, the mare only went head first into her empty bowl, where she did not move again.

An overwhelming silence followed. The next voice to speak was that of the King’s.

“How it seems I always neglect to mention it,” he said casually. “The completion of each course will lead to a single, solitary death. I assure you completely at random. Five courses for six guests. At the end of the meal, the last one alive will get to leave here tonight.”

He rang the little bell by his side.

“Next course!” he yelled.

8

The remaining five guests sat wordlessly as both servers from before came around to first remove their finished soup bowls before setting down another silver dome. This one revealed a garden salad with more types of greens than Guest Number Five had ever seen before. He had known of lettuce (of course he had, like when he nicked a head from the small farms that lay near the outskirts of the Empire), but those had been small in stature and close to the same in taste.

Two new ponies in fancy dress came around to remove the lifeless body of Guest Number Two. They didn’t bother to close her eyes as they carried her away, so every guest got one last view of her bloodshot, horrorstruck expression. Her silverware and plate were removed soon after.

At least she’s done for the night, the pegasus thought with gritted teeth. No more surprises left for her—no more pain, no more misery.

The remaining five still had a meal to finish.

“A light garden salad,” Sombra said to them, as if someone had asked (and as if no motionless body was in the midst of being carried from the room). “Fresh lettuce, carrots, peppers, onions, and probably a lot of other things I’m forgetting.” He barred his sharp teeth good-naturedly. “Dig in.”

Guest Number Five couldn’t help but glare at the King when he was through. As much as he had wanted to shy away from such unnecessary evil, the burning he felt inside caused him to continue on anyway. Until the soft crunching of greens pulled at his attention.

“No,” he whispered to himself.

The older mare by his side—the only mare remaining, actually—already had a mouthful of colorful greens mashing between her teeth. Through half-lidded eyes she ate, enjoying each new bite. After every few mouthfuls she drank from her water glass, completely ignoring her cup of wine.

Guest Number Five wanted to yell at her for such stupidity—wanted to shake her where she sat and tell her just how stupid she was being. But could he honestly say she was doing such a thing? All she had done was accept her fate. The others, meanwhile—

The slow intake of air through nostrils caused him to glance back at King Sombra. He had his head back, eyes closed and mouth agape, busily sniffing at the air. “And the aroma only grows. You are all being very kind to your King.”

Nothing fazed him. Nothing would ever faze him. It would be now or never.

If the pegasus could stop the dinner before it went any further then that would be for the best. If he should be brutally cut down before anything more could come of it, than he’d only be reaching the night’s conclusion a tad earlier than predicted. Honestly, there was little choice in the matter.

But what if I’m the last? his mind echoed desperately. What if we can live through the night?

Than you let five innocent ponies die while you sat by and did nothing, he thought coldly.

Guest Number Five reached for the knife sitting idle on his napkin. Slowly he dragged it across the table before it fell to his lap. He surveyed the scene one last time to find nothing had changed. It would be now then. It had to be—

A warm foreleg was tugging on his.

He looked up to find the older mare gripping his left foreleg in a gentle hoof. Upon her face was a soft smile—in her eyes was a more determined flicker of awareness. Slowly she shook her head. Now is not the time, that face told him. Not when you can live through this…

“I’m doing this for everyone,” he shot back in hushed tones, releasing that pleasantly soft leg.

With two hooves he awkwardly clung to his knife, getting it steady in his grasp. That was when he felt something pressing against him—not just his shoulders or his head but every single inch of him. It was as though gravity itself had radically intensified in the last few seconds.

“In case any of you are planning on trying for another means of escape or something—altogether—different,” the King mused, “I would put those plans on hold until the evening comes to an end.”

Carefully the pegasus looked up from the table and found the King staring back at him. He did not appear angry or mad, only faintly curious. Hungry too.

When the piercing glare became too much, Guest Number Five turned to watch the rest of the guests. Those that weren’t looking at Sombra were picking apart their salads with deft precision, placing bits of lettuce and raw vegetable onto the table for closer inspection. One of them—Guest Number Four with the bruised eye—brought each torn piece to his nose to smell, before moving onto the next.

“I wish you would all enjoy your meal,” Sombra continued in mock sadness. “Your probable last meal, yes. But I assure you, it is not mere poison that awaits the unlucky chosen few. You will not see death coming; you will not be able to smell it or taste it or feel it running down the back of your throat as you eat. It is only a spell and nothing more.”

Some of Sombra’s well-meaning grin had come unhinged as he watched his guests pick apart his nicely orchestrated feast.

“Only once each meal is consumed—consumed whole—will the unlucky one come to light. Every bowl, every plate, every scrap of food must be gone before we will know who will be leaving us. This is not a game that can be won through clever notions or surprising tactics. It may only be survived by those who are lucky enough. I control nothing here tonight. Only fate does. You have all lived a good life in my kingdom and now fate has brought you to me. And now fate will see to your end as well… should it led to your last night in this world.”

Pop!

A large crack from the roaring fire as something crackled and popped. It caused Sombra to bare most of his teeth in a mocking smirk.

“But why must you all be so saddened by such news?” he continued. “I offer you one last great meal before you leave—and even the chance of survival to one. I could have you tortured. I could have each of you killed in varying ways and in varying degrees.” He paused, as if his next statement weighed heavily on his mind. “I could see your deaths last a lifetime in and of themselves… but I will not. Instead I offer you something wonderful—something with a chance of failure or success.” He again viewed each remaining guest in turn. “And all I ask is that you eat.”

9

The mare by the pegasus’ side had finished her garden salad some time ago and was now watching the rest with a glossed over expression. If she had heard anything the King had just told her, Guest Number Five had not a single notion. So far she had been completely unperturbed by most everything.

“I won’t.”

A lone voice in the too large dining room.

“I won’t do it and you can’t make me.”

The pegasus leaned toward the center of the table to watch the Earth stallion—Guest Number One—cross his forelegs while he shook his head from side to side. At that moment he looked like some overgrown filly that didn’t want to finish his plate.

“What’s the point? What’s the point if we’re all just going to die anyways? I won’t play your game, Sombra. You’ve done enough to this Empire as is but you will not toy with me no more. I… I won’t eat and I don’t care what happens. I’ll die silent and brooding, but at least I’ll know why it’s happening and at least I’ll know that it is happening and for that I’ll be happy. You can have most everything you want, you sick monster, but you can’t force me to do what I don’t want to. So take this whole meal…” His jaw quivered soundlessly. “…and eat it yourself.”

Any lightness from Sombra’s face melted to the floor as he leaned away from his seat to rest his dark head on the tips of two hooves. His red and green eyes stood out from the darkness like well polished crystals—the fire right behind him silhouetting the black figure like some foreboding shadow emerging from a great mound of flames.

He said carefully, methodically, “If you will not eat, Guest Number One, then you are forfeiting your chance of survival. There will be no ‘maybes’ left. You will perish tonight and nothing will change from it.”

Guest Number One was now visibly trembling. He breathlessly shouted, “That’s fine!”

“But why turn away such a wonderful meal? Why turn your back from the possibility of survival? It is foolish, my dear subject. It… is… asinine.”

With jerky motions, Guest Number One found the rigged face of the King.

“If I’m going to die tonight,” he told him, “then it’s going to be from my own accord, not yours. Not fate, as you so elegantly put it, either. I chose not to play your game, no matter how you might spin it. At least the fear of whether or not I’ll die here tonight will be ripped from the equation. At least I’ll know.”

Sombra solemnly shook his head. “Oh, but the fear of the unknown always has such a marvelous taste, Guest Number One. I wish I could share with you such a delight.”

The quivering Earth pony went back to staring at his untouched plate of greens. It appeared he had said all he was going to say that night.

“I will ask this only once,” Sombra told the stallion. “Finish your plate and potentially walk out of here, or refuse and perish. You say you will die silently and with content in your heart. I will see you are granted only a single one of those.”

Guest Number One shut his eyes and mouthed a hurried speech out of earshot from the pegasus. Again he reached for the knife lying useless on his lap. Again he was reminded of the overbearing weight that pushed down on every inch of him. He could move his forelegs and head all he wanted, but he was sure if he tried for much more than that he would be stopped before he made it a single step from his chair.

“So be it,” Sombra mumbled tiredly, before his horn lit in an eerie glow.

With his eyes still sealed shut and mouth on constant overdrive, Guest Number One hardly noticed—or simply chose not to—while all four of his legs and a good chunk of his torso disappeared a few inches into his chair. Those portions of the wood his body had been resting against turned to a type of liquid material, until they hardened again, sealing the Earth pony to its bulky embrace. If it hurt him at all, the stallion made no mention.

Poof!

In a dissipating cloud of black smoke, Guest Number One disappeared along with his cumbersome seat. His polished utensils and uneaten salad remained where they were.

After watching the sudden vanishing act, three of the guests turned to face their King once more.

His horn had gone back to its neutral colors and a renewed breath of life had entered both freakish eyes. With those same eyes he looked away from them and to his left, to glimpse longingly at the bare window that held a gorgeous view of the nighttime moon and clouds, so high up.

Guest Number Five gripped the edges of his chair to watch the window Sombra had indicated. Only a few seconds later did the sound finally reach their ears.

It was a scream. Elongated and drawn out and without pause or worry. It started out small, like some timid noise from a few doors away, muffled by the distance. And from there it only intensified, steadily growing and rising until it seemed as though the source of such a noise must surely be in the room with the rest of them. The pegasus could not pry his eyes from the window nor the breathtaking view of the sky.

Then it happened.

If Guest Number Five had blinked he would have missed it completely. If he had been focused on another section of the sky he probably would have missed it as well. But he hadn’t, although he’d later wish he had. But no, he was staring right at the moon while he fell.

The blackened silhouette of a screaming and thrashing Guest Number One still embedded into his chair flashed across the perfectly white moon with harrowing speed. As quickly as he entered their small view did he exit it, his continued screams ebbing away as he sailed closer to the ground. From such a height not a single one of them heard what happened once he reached the base of the Empire tower. But maybe that was for the best.

10

“I hope you all now understand the gravity of the situation.”

As King Sombra spoke, the two serving ponies came out to clear the unfinished salads (and the single finished one) as well as the silverware that belonged to Guest Number One.

“So you will either eat and complete your meals,” he continued thickly, “or you will fall. I cannot fathom how a single one of you would decide upon the latter.”

Four new silver domes were placed before the remaining guests. Underneath was a warm and flaky pastry filled with what looked like different types of cheeses and herbs. The tantalizing flavors found the pegasus instantly and suddenly the deadly soup he’d consumed only minutes ago felt like it had been eaten days before. While his stomach rumbled away his body betrayed him. The King knew his ‘subjects’ starved, so what better way to coax them to their deaths than by the simple reward of food?

He honestly didn’t believe there could exist a sicker pony than their King.

“And since I absolutely hate the discarding of good food,” Sombra continued, “I will let us continue onto the next course. The main course: a light pastry baked with herbs and cheeses. I would have thought there would have been meat on the inside, but then I’m reminded your type foolishly don’t consume the flesh of other animals. Maybe that’s why you all seem much weaker than most.”

Sombra stopped talking to watch his guests. When he noticed none were motioning toward their meals, he bluntly said, “Eat.”

Again the older mare by the pegasus’ side was the first to dig in, cutting her crisp pastry with the edge of her fork before blowing on its steaming contents. Once cool enough, she chewed each mouthful contently, her eyes not exactly meeting the eyes of anyone else.

Guest Number Five watched as the Earth pony nearest Sombra—Guest Number Six—did close to the same, a soft beaten expression tacked to his face. The bruised stallion next to him surveyed the act with uncontained puzzlement.

Another voice pulled at him.

“You eat…”

The low voice of Sombra, inches away.

“…or you fall, Guest Number Five.”

The pegasus turned to find the King giving him his utmost attention. The happy grins that held his face earlier in the night had all but left when Guest Number One went out flying on his own.

The pegasus swallowed dryly and drank from his water glass. It had been the first time he’d done so and he honestly couldn’t care what it might have contained. It was supposedly the food that was meant to kill them, not the drink. If anything the King told them held any merit.

After he set it back down he pulled out his fork, driving it into the middle of his pastry. In one swift motion he parted it in two, the insides leaking onto his plate and the aroma only growing more robust. As his chest tightened, his belly gurgled.

He brought a forkful to his salivating maw.

“So that’s just it now?” the bruised stallion asked them all openly. He held both forelegs to his temples as though his brain might try for a sudden escape. “We just play along and pretend that nothing’s wrong? There has to be another side to this! This can’t be it! This just can’t be it!”

Sombra shifted his gaze towards him. “I’d suggest you start eating, Guest Number Four. I hear there’s quite a chill in the air tonight.”

“I know what you’re problem is,” the stallion told Sombra, pointing a leg for emphasis. “You just want blood and guts and all that nasty stuff, don’t you? Don’t you? You don’t care how it’s done as long as ponies come to their end while you get to watch. You’re sick. And you’re twisted. And if you’re going to kill me than you’re damn well going to know my name! I’m not ‘Guest Number Four’; I’m a pony, just like you.” He paused to take in a shuddery breath. “A King should know the names of who he’s about to kill!”

Sombra waited a moment before answering. He said evenly, “You put on a brave front and yet everything about you reeks of fear. You are scared, as you should be, but you are not helping yourself in the slightest by stalling what’s to come. My time is precious and you should view this moment as the pinnacle of your short existence. I will continue to call you Guest Number Four because I have no interest in learning the names of those beneath me. I know everything I need to know about you and nothing more. You are Guest Number Four: stallion of the Earth, worker of the fields, father of two, husband to a dead mare, child of no one, fears of darkness and of death but not the death of ones own self.”

He leaned a few inches over the table. “You wish to return to your children, don’t you? And yet you find the odds of fate stacked against you tonight. Is that it? Do you not believe you might be the one to walk out of here alive? You’ve already survived two of your other guests—only three remain left in your way.”

Guest Number Four said through clenched teeth, “You only want to watch us die.”

Sombra answered, “I only want a good meal.”

“I only want to see my kids again!”

“Then prove it to me and finish your food.”

The bruised stallion minutely stared at his plate, before shoving it aside. “I don’t trust in fate as much as you might. You want another body to add to your pile? I will give that to you if it means I can go. I… I would do anything for my kids. You say only one of us can walk out of here? Then I’ll make sure I’m the last.”

With a hard shove from the table, Guest Number Four came to his hooves and swayed on the carpet. He then watched the much smaller stallion next to him drop his forkful of pastry back to his plate.

“I’m sorry about this,” Guest Number Four said, before he leapt on top of him, toppling over his heavy chair as they both came crashing to the ground.

Still with an invisible weight bearing down on him, the pegasus could only watch the struggle from the other side of the table. Heads and legs bobbed up from the edge of the wood and then went down with thunderous force. Grunts and wails of pain were constant, before a choking sound cut out the rest and only got worse from there. Since Guest Number Four had been a good size larger than the stallion he had attacked, the pegasus had a good notion of who might come away alive.

Sombra, meanwhile, followed the brutal display with rapt attention, his eyes narrowing as he barred his teeth. Both nostrils flared and even a hint of saliva formed around the corners of his mouth. His eyes twitched in odd patterns and his usually motionless body gently thrummed as if from some electric current. Watching the horrid act occurring mere feet from him, he looked as though in near ecstasy. But was there something more to it than that? Could the pegasus see a hint of purple around those eyes? Could he really—

The disgusting sounds from underneath the table finally came to a stop and the bruised stallion—now with a few more bruises and very watery eyes—jerkily got back to his hooves. He tried his best to avert his eyes from the floor, where he had just murdered someone in a bid to be the one to leave.

With fresh tears he told the King, “I did it. I want to go now. You’ve reduced me to your level and I just want to leave. You’ve had your fun and now you’ve ruined me. I just want to go. Please.”

King Sombra finished dabbing the beads of saliva from the bottom of his chin with the red cloth he wore around his neck. “You may go, Guest Number Four, as soon as you finish your meal. I did not ask you to kill other guests. You did that all on your own. And how impolite that was, I might add. But you still have food to finish.” He regarded the pegasus’ empty plate as well as the mare’s, where only a few hints of pastry crumbs were left to be seen. Guest Number Five had been surprised to find just how quick he finished it, even while the possibility of death loomed so prevalent in the air. “They enjoyed their meal. And so must you.”

The bruised stallion shook his head. “No. No, please, no.” Like a stubborn filly he couldn’t completely decide whether he wanted to run away or move forward, so he shuffled in place. “I’ve already done enough and I just want to go home! I just want to go home!”

Sombra’s horn glowed in a brief aura of crimson and the stallion disappeared in a huff of smoke, only to reappear back in his chair. The plate he had so roughly shoved aside was returned to him as were his utensils, which had been straightened and set back into place. Completely picturesque.

“Then eat,” Sombra growled.

Comments

[cherry_afterdark]

[The oracle]

Damn. Sombra really wants them fed. He's like a sadistic grandma.

[Skulljack17]

“I hope you all now understand the gravity of the situation.”

Gravity of the situation! HA, I get it!