Chapter 3: Regarding Draconequuses, Lists, and Rehabilitation
REGARDING A CERTAIN DRACONEQUUS
Weeks into my abysmal rehabilitation, I heard word that Discord was set to visit the castle and speak with both Princesses. What all about, I honestly couldn’t care—I was only interested in meeting the first specimen that had undergone aversive friendship-therapy. If my own plight underneath the overbearing white alicorn told me a single thing about their process, I expected a creature of scars and sorrow wrapped in chains to silently trudge through my doors, before being led to the upper chambers for continued evaluation. I wanted to see the tears weep from his eyes and his nose to run down his chin. I wanted to see his very essence on display and I wanted it to be shattered beyond repair. More than anything I wanted the tales I had been told by the mouths of treacherous alicorns to prove false and in the most severe of degrees. But perhaps most of all I finally wanted to feel connected to someone again—not only the illusion of it. Dozens of times each day, another pony would approach me in the vane attempt at small talk that more often than not ended in, “You know, if you ever need anyone to talk to…” Oddly enough, I never did. Perhaps what irked me the most about such unnecessary wastes of oxygen was that none of them actually had the slightest interest in myself as a pony. It was evident in the way they looked at me—the way the edges of their smiles dipped when trying to engage me in the delicate art of small talk. While I don’t believe for an instant they were sent directly from Celestia herself, I have no doubt they would like nothing more than to be the one that reformed the great villain known as King Sombra. Oh the parties they would attend… The mares or the stallions that would flaunt to their suddenly famous sides…
Heroes might find solace in spending their days together; villains should remain as distant as they can. We should respect each other and the gifts that make us who we are, but an elegance of villainy would only end when a single one of them thought they were somehow better than the rest.
I know I am better than most. But that doesn’t mean I can’t be merciful when the mood strikes me. And that was exactly why on the morning of Discord’s visit I sat patiently behind my desk, sharpening my latest quill between the corner of my counter and my hardened hoof.
“You need a new quill, Sombra?” my friendly guard had asked as he watched me work.
“No thank you, Bolt,” I said, still focused on the task. “I’ll make good use of this one.”
I didn’t need to look up to see the rush of blood enter the stallion’s face. Whether it was from the fact that I had grown suddenly polite in the last few hours or that I somehow knew his name, I didn’t investigate. What else was there to do behind an immovable desk than eavesdrop on the latest Canterlot gossip?
Nearing the end, when the fine point on my quill became sharp to the touch, I almost whistled in delight. Gifted with having the natural voice of boulders falling over rocks, I can at best hit two low register notes that work well together. Thankfully this was short lived as I looked up to find the oddest of sights pleasantly stroll through my doors.
“Hello all!” it said. “Did you miss me?”
Bearing the various limbs of an array of differing creatures, it didn’t take myself long to know I was staring at the first reformed villain of them all. The only problem was that he wasn’t what I had expected. No entourage of guards followed his every step; no shackles and chains weighed his heavy heart closer to the ground; no scars or burns or lacerations of any sort speckled his body from his constant beatings. Worst of all, his expression was not one of distorted character, but one of simple pleasure. Could this really have been the villain I had been excited to meet? The sole reason I had wasted my good quill and half of my morning? And then another notion took hold.
“He’s acting,” I whispered to myself (a more and more reoccurring phenomenon in the work place).
I watched as he snapped his fingers, instantly changing the colors of every guard outfit in the room. After laughing at the idiotic sight, he unhooked his head to spin on one finger.
“Or he’s lost it completely,” I reflected, unsurprised. How many times had a prisoner in my own dungeons lost their mind after hours of ‘persistent’ questioning?
With his other hand, the draconequus stopped his rotating head and a layer of avid interest filled his face. He had noticed me and was coming over, returning his head back to his neck with an audible pop.
The tall creature leaned a little too forward on the counter. “Tall, dark, and mediocre at best. You must be Sombra!”
I spent a long while gazing up at the lithe villain. My original plans with the quill hastily disappearing from mind. While I had little hope of escaping from the friendship loop (considering death wasn’t even an option anymore), I thought there still might be time for the original friendship slave to finally receive his pardon. (I know Celestia would not hesitate to bring myself back, but did the same rules apply to a Spirit of Chaos? I would have tried regardless.) With a lucky strike I would jab my sharpened quill through his jugular, then watch him crash to the floor as his lifeblood stained the entryway carpets. If I could, I would kneel by his side as tears of joy would spill from his eyes. I would take his hand and he would say, “Thank you,” to the one villain that had saved him from his never-ending sorrows. His trip down the horrific road of friendship would come to an end and I would spend the rest of my days feeling better for releasing the poor soul from this world. Or… that was the original plan.
When I didn’t reply, the draconequus huffed and knocked on my desk. “Hello in there? I heard you weren’t much of a talker but you could at least blink once in a while!”
This wasn’t what I had expected at all. If it was an act, it was a good one. His eyes nor his mouth never twitched in hidden anguish; he never silently mouthed out the words, “Help me!” or even bothered to slip me a note detailing his latest scheme to wipe out every alicorn in the land. It was almost as if… as if he was somehow happy to be free of scheming. Free of the burdens of all around nastiness and villainy. But for that to be true, that would mean Celestia had been right by reforming him. If that were the case, then where did that leave me exactly?
While pondering the many questions of the universe, Discord had grown bored of the solemn stallion and instead made his own version of fun—something I didn’t think was all that humorous at all. With his pointy eagle’s claw he snapped off the very tip of my muzzle and hid it in his armpit. As much as I did not wish to inhale such noxious fumes, the urgency for air came quickly and swift.
“Now I’ve got your attention!” he yelled as he tap-danced around the entryway, holding tight to my severed muzzle somewhere close to his ample bosom.
Two minutes following that injustice he returned my snout to my face and informed me that I should ‘lighten up.’ Two minutes following that, I crossed out the first name on my list and added “DISCORD THE DRACONEQUUS”, completely upending any semblance of flow it had going for it.
Have I not mentioned my list?
REGARDING MY LIST
Long before I started this little journal of sorts, I had created a long list of individual parties that were slowly but surely going to find themselves in very painful situations sometime in the future. If it took a year or ten or a thousand and more, I had solemnly made a promise to myself to cross out each and every one of them from it. If I had to do so while standing atop their graves knowing the ravages of age had claimed their lives before I had gotten to them, I would curse the very mound of soil that kept them from me. Then I would do something to their space of earth that I won’t mention here and go drink more liquids before moving on to the next. It’s only too bad that creature of many limbs and colors had to go and mess with my order. For now I’ll merely mention what was originally written.
The rules of the list were simple at first. Spots one and two were always to be filled by Princess Celestia.
1. Princess Celestia
2. Princess Celestia
The reasons I had listed her twice were indeed straightforward. I had planned to kill her and then I planned on stuffing her body before killing the stuffed version of Celestia all over again. Depending on time and depending on the state of said stuffed Celestia, this could have been a recurring event. But I digress.
3. Princess Luna
When I first wrote the list, I had categorized both Celestia and Luna into the same position. They governed this world together, why should they not exit it the same? (I’m very thoughtful sometimes when it comes to things like this.) Yet recent events have pushed her down a ways. Events that will be addressed in due time.
4. Princess Cadence
I have no overwhelming animosity towards Cadence, because I barely even knew of her before all this began, but there was no way she was not going to make the list and be very near the top. If she hadn’t swept through the air like some aerial sports object thrown by her husband, I might potentially not have been defeated at all. It’s hard to say what could have happened on that day if events had turned out different. I won’t add Gleaming Armor or whatever his name is because I’m sure if I try and take on Cadence, he’ll naturally come with the territory. The only question that will matter is which will watch the other perish first? I think I’ll decide on the day.
5. Princess Twilight Sparkle
There’s not a lot I can say about her besides she has one too many titles in her name and sometimes uses larger words in conversation than necessary. Plus she’s purple. And somehow since the last time I remember viewing her, she got wings. Is that something Celestia does now? Rewarding ponies with wings? Maybe if I’m good enough I’ll be given a pair and could fly right out of this castle. Sure. Just like maybe I won’t watch a little foal slip on the recently polished floor and laugh off my seat. Anything’s possible.
6. Something Something Sentry
For reasons.
7. Pink Pegasus With Orange Mane Bordering On Vermillion And Persimmon Who Asked Where The Stairs Were Three Times And Yet Couldn’t Seem To Find Them
That’s the trouble with working at a counter that aggravatingly sees hundreds of ponies a day. Although they don’t seem to know just how idiotic their questions might seem, they are indeed very. List entry seven through three-hundred and four consists of individuals I’ve encountered while burdened here. Sadly, very few are willing to give me their names once I retrieve my lengthened scroll from underneath my desk and scowl at them with every sharp tooth available. But those that do are positioned lower than the ones I have to later describe in monotonous detail. Thankfully I’ve never been one to forget a face.
REGARDING ALARM CLOCKS
In all my time spent as King of the Crystal Empire I had never experienced such an odd contraption. It was rectangular in shape and on its front it held all the hands and numbers of a standard clock. That is what I thought that first night, when I was led to my small room complete with small bed and small bathroom, now occupied by a small creature that used to resemble a King.
When my head hit the soft pillow that first night, I had blacked out almost instantly. A piece of me thought perchance I was still in some dream within a dream, and that if I slept in that dream, I’d eventually wake up. Or in the very least find a better dream to get lost in. What ended up happening was the horrendous sound of thousands of bees horrifically shocked by electricity, only inches from my ears. Every quarter-second it blared its booming tone, shocking me out of bed and onto the floor, where I then found the source of the noise.
With clumsy hoofs I went to work finding its means of power, but found no cord to hank on. With my weakened limbs I smashed on its top and soon the jarring noise came to a stop. Then I finally noted what time it was.
6:00 A.M.
In my Crystal kingdom I rarely troubled myself with keeping track of time. A King made his own time and when he awoke the day would begin. When he would lay his opulent head back down on his opulent bed, then that would only mean the day had permanently come to a close. It was clock work, really.
The next noise to jostle me came from outside my door.
“One hour, Sombra!”
I didn’t need to ask what he meant by that; one hour until my duty as Canterlot receptionist resumed unabated. In my warm room I shivered and felt naked all over again. No cape. No crown. And finally feeling stripped of a good chunk of dignity.
The next morning I awoke a few minutes before my alarm and set my hoof above its menacing top. An instant after it began to scream its siren song I pounced on it, silencing one in a long line of adversaries. Over the weeks I have tried to uncover just how to undo whatever setting had been placed on it, but my cumbersome hooves have only been able to fumble the odd beast until it falls from my grasp. I don’t dare waste any of the day’s magic trying to break it open.
Bigger things were always in the works.
REGARDING REHABILITATION
If my stoic state behind the desk of incumbency wasn’t enough of an ordeal in itself, my weekends had to be spent in forced “friendship seminars.” It was all as pathetic as you might imagine—that is if you imagine eight or so “villains” circled around in a group, discussing what exactly made them do what they had done before realizing other options had always been available to them. Nearly all came from their own freewill, wanting to unload on some lightweight negativity from their past. I seemed to be the only one required to attend. For the first two weekends I had remained silent and motionless in my thin chair, mentally figuring if any of these so-called baddies could potentially be trusted with a clever ruse or an attempted escape. It took less than a minute before I mentally outclassed every single one of them. I think Celestia had been going overboard.
“My name is Mr. Cake and I—”
“Hi Mr. Cake!”
“And I… and I…” the earth pony stammered out.
Already tears were shimmering in both eyes. My original thought had been murder most foul but it ended up as something else entirely.
“And I… stole a cake recipe!”
I collapsed from non-interest and watched the other members of the group encircle the poor creature and envelope him in a hug. Even though I had been drained of my magic and much of my strength, I still thought I could out maneuver any possible physical affection coming my way.
When the list of names ran down and I became last to “vent” my negativity, I begrudgingly fixed them all a stare and crossed both forelegs over my chest. At the time I wasn’t all that great at caring and sharing.
“I won’t bother with introductions,” I began, “because I think everyone here already knows of what I’ve done—what I’ve accomplished in my time. Before I was forcefully stripped of my title, I was Sombra, King of the—”
“Hi King Sombra!” they unanimously yelled at me.
I choked on pure unfiltered rage while tiny dots danced in my vision. When the lightheadedness went away I continued unperturbed, now crossing one back leg over the other to nullify any possible coming embrace even more.
“While most of you speak of anguished thoughts due to theft or mere troublesome words, or perchance even the lone one of you that has actually brought violence to another, none of you wholly deserve the title of villain. It is something only earned through years of careful craft—only when you can strike fear into the hearts of many from the mere whisper of your name.” I licked my lips, my mind flooded with old memories. “In my grandest of days I used to torture and mutilate any pony I thought had deserved it. Sometimes I wanted a confession and other times I wanted nothing more than to hear them scream. I starved and overworked an entire nation until it nearly collapsed. I am sure some must have hoped for its overwhelming destruction, putting an end to both the Empire and my reign over it, but I always knew just when to pull back… and by how much. I watched the tongues of traitors cut out from their mouths and the mouths of those unwilling to unveil the rats in my midst sown shut forever. I’ve watched more ponies die than you’ve had the pleasure of befriending in your life—and I plan on continuing just the same, once this set back is straightened out. But for now I will do my best to ignore the rest of you for you are close to nothing to me—a mere stepping stone in a long and grand path. Pray, long and with passion that you do not meet me again when I regain what was taken from me. If you do, I will show all you villains what a real one is supposed to look like.”
I glared at every awestruck face before reaching out to the little cookie tray that had been set up in the center of the circle. All that talk (and much of it completely fabricated) had made me famished and in need of sustenance. I chewed loudly, my sharp teeth making quick work of the peanut butter treat. Then I added, “I hear we’re supposed to break off into pairs. Who wishes to join with me?”
It seemed none did.
REGARDING THINGS THAT SHOULDN’T ANNOY ME BUT DO
When the purple alicorn left in a huff she forgot to bring her little book of words and crosses with her. After forcing my full title and name into most of the left side, I was still pressed with a half finished game of wits. As a King for hundreds of years I had always enjoyed outsmarting opponents. Whether it be true adversaries or even saboteurs from inside my own kingdom, to learn of their tactics and then wreak havoc upon them had always been a favorite part of my job. Even as I write in this little journal of sorts does my mind swirl with fresh notions of escape. Many are fanciful and a tad on the dreamy side, but if one cuts away at everything that cannot possibly occur they are only left with what can. Or so that’s the theory I’m going with.
I started with the question nearest the top. Adventurous mare of popular book series—eight letters. I brought my quill to my chin and couldn’t think of a single solitary answer. The last book I had recalled reading had been thousands of years ago—more than likely some war text filled with sweet blood and guts that could lull me to sleep. Since when had mares made the transition to books at all? Since when were they popular? The notion of not knowing still bothered me plenty.
“Hey Bolt!” I said to my guard. “Is there some book series that features a mare?”
My guard came awake from his idle stance. “You mean Daring Do?”
I hastily scanned the line and added the two words. When they fit perfectly into place with the other answers I couldn’t help but smirk at its simplistic design. Now that only left… several more spaces to go.
“I wouldn’t expect a pony like you to know such things, though,” Bolt said, once he trotted to my desk. “The series is only a decade or so old. You haven’t been around in… what? A thousand years?”
“Give or take a few decades,” I mumbled, while I scanned the next question.
“Then you might need to do some research to answer those,” he continued. “I can’t imagine more than one in a hundred that would involve your old Empire or something related to you. If you want, I could probably talk Celestia into letting you borrow some texts from the archives. I can’t see how it would hurt.”
I had finished reading the latest question and hadn’t the faintest idea of the answer.
Bolt added, “It might help pass the time.”
And just like that I had found something to occupy the mindless hours on the job. Just like that I had subdued the monster lurking inside myself that wanted to pounce on every living soul that passed through the castle doors. Sure, it was still there and it would always be hungry and plotting its escape, yet perhaps now it could wait until the day was through and my meaningless job came to an end.
And just like that Twilight Sparkle fell from number five on my list to number thirty-seven.
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Hmm, I don't know about Sombra referring to himself as a villain. People don't consider themselves that, in everyone's mind they're the hero of their own story.
Love the chapter.
Lol, I wish we could see some of his other ones. Could you periodically give us an update of his list so we can see some of the other randoms he intends to destroy
Mr Cake is villian?
What Sombra needs is someone to bitch about ponies with. Gilda or Cranky Doodle
Well Discord was an easy one. He wasn't really evil to begin with. It was more about having fun. But poor Sombra sadly doesn't know that.
Funny how the world villain has been so simplified in Equestria.
5245263 Ha! Maybe as an extra chapter.
5245449 I wouldn't consider the rehabilitation as a villains only club, more of an open forum for anyone that feels bad about something they've done to come vent. Sombra's the only one that's required to attend.
A Sombra comedy. Written by naturalbornderpy. This is the most amazing thing I have seen in weeks.
5245739 Awesome! I can just think of a few:
Blonde Unicorn who sneezed on me while asking for the time
Diamond dog who looked at me funny
Little pink foal who offered to buy me an ice cream then dropped it
5246172 I like the third one the best.
5246106 Yes, I know it's odd. But once in a blue moon I take the right amount of Canadian drugs (bacon and maple syrup) and write something that isn't horrifically depressing. But then again, the tags Dark, Tragedy, and Gore still need to make their appearance somewhere in the last four chapters. Hmm... maybe old habits die hard.
As someone who's been known to be stubborn and spiteful in dealing with an outside world I cannot comprehend, I find myself uncomfortably understanding to Sombra in this story
Finally a decent Sombra story where he comes back still "evil" and not just a "slightly grumpy person" like all of the others seem to do. I swear there is literally three good ones on this site.
Nice job man.
5248908 Cobalt Earth Pony with reddish-brown hair who came by every day for a week and insisted on calling me "Sombie"
I like this Sombra, instead of a pansy Crystal Hugger, we finally get a decent, old school villain.
5245739 Magenta pegasus with indigo hair who used the word "Literally" incorrectly seventeen times in one day.
Regarding #6 and #7 of his list.... Bruh, I feel you!
5248929 what about a Pink Fluffy Unicorn that was spitting in my face by 'accident'
Only a truly nefarious villain could deliver a bone chilling speech and then proceed to eat a cookie.
....peanut butter cookies...
For shame!
He should have partaken only of cookies with dark chocolate!
Then, they would have matched his...
Nope, not soul....I fooled you...
His hair.
:3
Interesting.
speaks well of him that he'd not only consider his own torment, but also that of one he believed to be going through the same thing, and be willing to risk who knows what kind of punishment in order to free him of it. sadly, the ponies around him lack that kind of empathy, or they'd have left him dead.