A Glimmer of Hope

by Gordon Pasha

Never Fear

Dr. Fie felt himself begin to fidget. He heard a noise. He jumped and looked all around him. The whistling was surely just a gust of air from the pool room above. Or at least that is what Dr. Fie preferred to tell himself.

But can I ever really be sure?

Dr. Fie hated this plan. Which was hard to admit because it was his plan. It had all seemed to make so much sense when he had come up with it. Right up until the moment when he found himself standing alone on the catwalk, waiting for a hideous creature — one which had only recently tried to disembowel him, thank you very much — to put in another appearance.

He waited. And he waited. Nothing happened.

Maybe she won’t show up, he thought. Maybe she went home, like a good little shadow-demon.

Dr. Fie knew it was a vain hope — the closest thing the Umbrum had to a home was the Prison of Shadows — but nopony would blame him for entertaining thoughts such as these while he so gallantly put his life on the line. Or at least that is what Dr. Fie preferred to tell himself.

Then, the silence was broken. It took all of Dr. Fie’s willpower to keep from shrieking as he heard noises from down below, slowly getting closer.

The fiendish yaps and snarls of that salacious she-wolf, no doubt.

Dr. Fie put his hooves to his ears.

But as the noises entered the general vicinity, Dr. Fie put his hooves down. Those did not sound like yaps and snarls. No, they sounded like....

Wheezing?

Curious, but Dr. Fie quickly forgot all about it. Fear sank even further into his being as he saw a dark blue mass rising to the level of the catwalk, carried along on long, thin wings which beat the air like paddles. Two small, white eyes locked with his; he felt practically numb. He turned as quickly as he could, ready to run.

But then, instead of beginning pursuit, the creature leaned against the railing. It just hovered there, holding onto the topmost bar, almost like it was trying to catch its breath.

Do smoke-creatures really need to circulate oxygen? What a ludicrous thought!

“Hold on... give me... give me a moment,” Luxuria said in between gasps. “Misericordia... wherever you are... I’m gonna make you pay... for knocking me... all the way... to the bottom... of this accursed ship....”

“Apologies, dear girl, but Misericordia isn’t here,” Dr. Fie said, trying to sound as confident as he could (which was not very much, under the circumstances). “He left. Went to take in the sights, you see. They say it’s the city that never sleeps. Or is that Manehattan? I can never remember myself, given that I am a firm believer in getting a healthy fourteen hours of sleep a night. It’s necessary for proper functioning, you know. I’m a doctor, so I know about these things.”

Dr. Fie was babbling now. So much for appearing confident.

Luxuria let go of the railing. “Oh... shut up... you! If I... can’t find... Misericordia.... I’ll have.... to make do... with cutting your corpse... into a million pieces!”

Dr. Fie did not need to hear more. With a loud yelp, he was off, galloping faster than he had ever galloped before. An impartial observer would have thought him a champion racehorse and not a pony of since from how fast he ran.

He did not once look back. He did not need to. Dr. Fie was certain that the creature was behind him. He thought he heard it come closer with each step. He assumed that every noise on the air whizzing past his head was the shadow’s fearsome howl. His heart pounded. He thought he would be dead at any moment.

Then, up ahead, he saw another shadow-creature, this time a blue-green one. Dr. Fie felt a sense of relief. There was Misericordia, laying (or hovering, rather) in ambush. He had a large segment of pipe in his hooves.

Just a few steps more and he would be safe. He just had to get past the narrow line separating this section of catwalk from the rest.

Dr. Fie took to the air. He made a wild leap — just in time to avoid the creature’s razor-sharp talons, no doubt — and crossed the line. Landing upon the other side, he did not even try to stand up. He huddled upon his haunches and put his hooves over his head.

“Now, you noxious ninny! Now!”

“Dr. Fie....” Misericordia said.

“Don’t argue with me, you cumulitic clod! Just do it!”

“But Dr. Fie....”

“Oh, for Celestia’s sake, what is it?”

Dr. Fie lifted his head out of his hooves and looked down the catwalk. There was Luxuria, pulling herself along by the railing, huffing and puffing all the while.

“What is taking so long, you shuffling stooge?” he called out, too annoyed to remember how frightened he was. “Don’t you realize that this is a sprint, not a marathon?”

“Give me... some credit....” Luxuria said as she tried to pull herself forward a little faster. “It was... a long way... back up here....”

“So, what should I do?” Misericordia asked. “Should I just tie her up with the pipe now?”

Dr. Fie looked to Misericordia and then to Luxuria, still struggling to catch up.

“Don’t bother,” he said. “It would be a waste of perfectly serviceable steel. I’ll handle this. Never fear, Fie is here.”

“You like that phrase,” Misericordia said.

Dr. Fie’s eyebrows rose along his high forehead. “It does have a nice ring, don’t you think?”

“As... soon... as I... get there...” Luxuria said, “you’re dead.”

Dr. Fie’s horn began to glow purple. Slowly, from either side of the catwalk, rivets began to shine the same color and unscrew themselves. The catwalk began to wobble and creak underneath Luxuria’s weight.

Dr. Fie smiled. “I may be a betting stallion, but even I wouldn’t put money on it.”

Luxuria looked to either side of the catwalk and then to Dr. Fie. “No fair!” she squealed.

“An Umbrum of all ponies should know,” Dr. Fie said, “life isn’t—”

The catwalk gave way. Luxuria let out a piercing scream as both she and it tumbled into the vast darkness below.

“—fair. Blast, she didn’t get to hear the whole of my witty and original quip.”

“It was not so original, Dr. Fie,” Misericordia said. “And as for witty, I do not think you understand the definition of wit.”

“But I can tell a half-wit, you punctilious pomposity! And what gives you the right to speak, after I did all the work?”

“I found the piping and pulled it loose.”

“A feat I could have easily done, if my back hadn’t been so badly injured in my recent fall from the great heights of the pool room.”

“Falling from great heights seems to be your specialty, Dr. Fie.”

“Oh, very clever. See to it that I don’t lodge you in one of these pipes and send you coursing through the ship, you venomous vapor. Besides, I was the one who found a wobbly catwalk and I was the one who half-loosened the nails in the rivets in time to lay the trap. I did everything.”

Misericordia nodded. “It is true. You did those things.”

“Finally, some recognition.”

“Clearly, where deception and chicanery are called for, you are the pony for the job. You’d make an excellent Umbrum, Dr. Fie.”

Dr. Fie beamed with pride. “Of course, I would. I am Dr. Fiddly Fie. Whatever I ended up as, I would excel at it.”

“But how did you know to do all those things?”

“Simple, dear ninny. I figured a boat as old and ill-maintained as this pathetic excuse for a barge must have a walkway or two just about ready to drop. And I used my vast knowledge of metallurgy to determine how to undo the rivets, which I did with my phenomenal magical prowess.”

Misericordia scratched his head, which was strange to see for an Umbrum. “You know a lot about metal-working?”

Dr. Fie rolled his eyes. “Oh, don’t give me that look. Of course, I do. It’s my special talent after all. You can tell by my cutie mark.”

Misericordia looked at Dr. Fie’s cutie mark. It only made him more confused. “But you are a doctor, not a blacksmith.”

“Just because it is my special talent doesn’t mean I have to like it. To go through life as a smith! Oh, the indignity!”

Dr. Fie surveyed his surroundings. For a brief, glorious moment, he felt an incredible sense of well-being. Not only had he stared down danger, but he had come through unscathed. Maybe this bravery thing was more his scene than he had thought.

The moment soon ended when a scratchy voice called out, “Luxuria? Luxuria, where are you?”

“What was that?” Dr. Fie yelped.

“Invidia,” Misericordia said. “We have taken care of Luxuria for a while. We should deal with him, too.”

“Of course, we should,” Dr. Fie said, discreetly putting himself behind Misericordia. “Hop to it, dear boy.”

“It will be my pleasure,” Misericordia said.

“Luxuria? Luxuria!” Invidia’s cries were getting closer.

Soon, he appeared out of the blackness, his purple form gliding effortlessly through the air. Dr. Fie tensed up as he saw him; Invidia was certainly the most physically imposing of the three Umbrum. And that was saying something.

“Luxuria!” Invidia called out on final time. Then he came to a halt. It was impossible to know what his dead eyes were looking at, but they were looking straight ahead.

Dr. Fie held his hooves to his chest, trying to quiet the incessant drumbeat of his heart. He was certain that Invidia was staring at him.

Then, Invidia turned his head upward slightly. “Misericordia....” he said.

“Now you’ve done it, ninny,” Dr. Fie said as quietly as he could. “He’s seen you! You were supposed to stay out of sight!”

“I forgot, Dr. Fie.”

“You’d forget your own head if it wasn’t attached to your neck! Is it attached to your neck, dear boy? With you smoke-creatures, it’s so hard to tell.”

Invidia made a small move forward. Dr. Fie began taking steps back.

“I can handle him, Dr. Fie,” said Misericordia. He went out to meet him, hovering over the large hole between catwalks where Luxuria had just been.

“Invidia, you must stop this,” Misericordia said. “What you and the others are doing is wrong. It is not fair to Empress Hope.”

“You were always a weird one,” Invidia said. “Caring about things like ‘right’ and ‘wrong.’ As though they’re anything but words to an Umbrum.”

“They are, where Radiant Hope is concerned,” Misericordia said proudly.

But Invidia did not seem to be listening. Rather, his eyes turned to the black expanse beneath Misericordia. He stroked his chin with his gnarled hoof, causing small wisps of smoke to break off here and there. “So that’s how it is,” he chattered, more to himself than anyone. “No wonder I couldn’t find Luxuria.”

“Oh, she’ll be fine,” Dr. Fie said. “She just needs to walk it off. Or fly it off, as the case may be.”

He immediately threw his hooves over his mouth. He could not believe he had said it.

I always knew bravery would be hazardous to my health! That’s why, as a doctor, I’ve never prescribed it to me. Life-threatening, you know.

But, fortunately, Invidia just ignored him. All his focus was on Misericordia.

“So, Misericordia, you have become a traitor, have you?” he said with fiendish glee. “Your dear Empress will be so disappointed.”

“The only real traitor is the traitor to the heart,” Misericordia responded as he approached Invidia, flexing the piping. “You are the real traitor, Invidia. And that thing is not my Empress!”

Invidia smirked. “If you say so.”

And then, he did something which Dr. Fie never expected him to do. He turned tail and shot like a bullet in the opposite direction. Before even reaching the end of the catwalk, he had become a purple blur, speeding down to the platform below. All the while, he shouted, “My Empress! My Empress!”

Misericordia just floated there, dumbfounded.

“Well,” Dr. Fie said, “don’t you think we should stop him?”

Misericordia seemed like he had been snapped out a daze. He looked back at Dr. Fie. “Yes, yes, of course. I just expected Invidia to have more backbone than that. He truly is a craven bootlicker, deep down.”

“Most ponies are, dear boy, most ponies are,” Dr. Fie said. “But enough philosophy for one day. We need to stop him.”

Misericordia nodded. Without another word, his wings began to beat rapidly.

“Not without me, you clod!” Dr. Fie said as Misericordia was just about to take off.

Misericordia looked back at him sheepishly — or at least as sheepishly as an Umbrum could look. “Sorry.”

Dr. Fie rolled his eyes. “The things I must put up with. Will the indignities never cease?”

---

Sweat poured down Starlight Glimmer’s brow. The shield sustained another blast. Well, ‘sustained’ is not quite the right word. Because it was weakening. This time, it briefly scattered before reassembling.

“I’m impressed, little pony,” Sombra said. “I had thought your strength would have failed a long time ago.”

“And me, such an insignificant creature too,” Starlight replied. “It’s okay if you want to give up.”

Despite the bravado of her quips, Starlight knew she was in trouble. If Sombra and Hope — Sombra and that thing — kept firing those blasts of dark magic, the shield would collapse. Starlight did not know how much longer she could keep it up for.

The Empress delivered a mighty blast with her horn. Starlight flew backward. The shield had done its job of keeping her safe from harm — well, safe from everything but a bruised ego — but it was gone now. And what was worse, the magical backfire and discharge meant she wouldn’t be able to summon a new one for quite a while.

The Empress grinned almost from ear to ear.

“Pleased with your handiwork?” Starlight asked as she looked up from the ground. If she was going down, she was going down cocky.

“Very,” said the Empress, her horn radiating red and emitting ooze. “Goodbye and goodnight, Starlight.”

“Hope, please!”

“Tisk-tisk. Pleading, Starlight? It doesn’t become you.”

“And whatever this is doesn’t become you,” Starlight responded. “Can’t you see? Hope, you’ve become a monster!”

The Empress reared her head back, almost like a venomous serpent about to strike at its prey. “You always knew what I was. I’m glad to hear you say it out loud before you die.”

Starlight braced herself for the impact. She knew it was the end. As her father’s daughter, she had always been able to get out of the worst scraps before. But Starlight, for the life of her, could not see how to get out of this one.

For the life of me. Bad choice of words.

“Stop!”

Starlight looked up to see Sombra, hoof raised, standing between her and the Empress.

“Leave her,” Sombra said. “She has fought well, for a pony. I think she deserves to die with a small measure of honor.”

The Empress was upset. “But... but... after all she did to me, after what she said? I should get to be the one to kill her!”

“Enough,” Sombra responded, not even bothering to look in his mate’s direction. “I have deemed this creature worthy of death at the hooves of her Emperor.”

“You’re so magnanimous,” Starlight deadpanned. “My life is complete.”

“You can’t do this!” the Empress protested. “Starlight is mine. I want her.”

“Do not question me,” Sombra said sharply. “I have spoken and what I say is final. Understood?”

The Empress did not answer.

“Understood?”

“What you say is what you get,” the Empress responded, obviously not too happy.

But it was enough for Sombra. He nodded and turned his whole focus back to Starlight. He began to approach her. Starlight tried to crawl back, but a beam from Sombra’s horn encircled her and ensured she would stay in one place. He smiled wickedly as he stood over her. He raised a hoof.

“I hope you’re grateful for the honor you receive today, little pony,” he said.

Starlight just glared up at him.

She closed her eyes and tensed up.

This is the end of my personal revolution, I guess, she thought.

She knew it was unavoidable. Her luck had run out. With another vicious laugh, the hoof came down.

Starlight opened her eyes. Sombra’s hoof was atop her head. Or in her head. Or through it. She could not figure out which. Because she could see his foreleg between her eyes. He must certainly has stomped on her.

“Blast it!” Sombra hollered. “Blast everything! This body is fading again! Invidia! Invidia!”

“You sent him away,” said the Empress.

“That’s right, I did,” Sombra said, picking up his hoof. “No matter. You’ll have to fix me. I know you can’t restore my body yet, my love. But your dark magic should at least be able to stabilize me for a while.”

Sombra did not get a response.

“Did you hear me?” he asked.

Still no response.

“I said, did you hear me? Answer! Why don’t you answer? Blast it, Hope!”

“Okay.”

Before Starlight could even process it, Sombra was knocked off of her. He went flying and took a hard landing on the platform. Starlight was certain that, if he was still corporeal, Sombra would have been in for quite a lot of pain from such a tumble. As it was, the dark magic itself had seemed to provide him more than enough.

Starlight saw another thing. The time-travel spell. Sombra had still been holding it when he was hit. Now, freed from his grasp, it fluttered down onto the grating nearby. Starlight began to crawl toward it.

A beam of darkness hit the grating between her and the spell. Starlight looked over her shoulder to see the Dark Empress, horn smoking and red.

“Don’t even think about it, Starlight,” she said.

Sombra lifted his head up. “Hope, why?”

He was rewarded with another blast of dark magic.

“I feel like I’m stuck on repeat and yet nopony gets the message. I am not Hope,” said the Empress. “I am more than she ever was. More than she ever could be.”

“No, you’re not!” Starlight said. “Radiant Hope was more than this, whatever this is. You’re not like her. You’re just anger and rage.”

She just managed to pull herself out of the blast radius of another beam.

“Shut up,” the Empress said.

“I don’t understand,” Sombra said. “The ritual, it was supposed to make you like me. It was supposed to make you a worthy mate. It was supposed to make you what you used to be, my best friend.”

The Empress stalked toward Sombra, a truly demented smile on her face.

“Oh, Sombra, when will you learn? Friendship is for foals.”

“You’re an idiot,” Starlight called to Sombra.

“You shouldn’t have lied to me, Sombra,” the Empress said. “You shouldn’t have bossed me around. It showed me that you’re just like all the rest of them. That you’re no better. You don’t really love me and you never did. So now you get to die.”

Sombra struggled to move, only to be hit with blast after blast. Each time, part of the smoke which made up his body was blown away. He was being torn to shreds alive. From the look on his face, it was incredibly painful.

Starlight even found herself feeling sorry for the big jerk. He may have caused this mess, but she did not like seeing what the Empress was doing to him. She would not wish this level of suffering on anypony.

Not even on Twilight Sparkle....

“Hope, please stop!” Starlight said. “You love Sombra! You love him as much as I loved Sunburst! You can’t want to hurt him like this. Even after Sunburst abandoned me, I never wanted to hurt him. At least, I never would have done what you’re doing.”

“I guess we’re not the same after all, are we?”

The Empress launched several more blasts at Sombra, causing him to scream in pain. Starlight knew she should have felt relieved to no longer be the recipient of the Empress’ wrath. She knew she should take the opportunity to grab the time-travel spell and get out of there. But she could not. She could not turn her gaze from Sombra, now not the mighty Emperor of monsters, but just a pony in tremendous pain.

“Hope, please stop!”

The Empress stopped. She turned her red eyes to Starlight.

Oops, big mistake, Starlight thought.

“For the last time,” the Empress yelled as she readied a beam. “I am not—”

“My Empress! My Empress!”

“Invidia?” Sombra asked.

Invidia swept down from on high. He had apparently gotten here as fast as he could.

“My Empress! My Empress! There is something you must know!”

“It can wait, Invidia,” the Empress said. “Our former liege lord and I were just having a conference on usurpation.”

“Invidia, she’s trying to kill me!” Sombra said. “You have to help me! You have to stabilize me! Hurry, before it’s too late!”

Invidia did nothing. He looked at Sombra, long and hard. Then he looked to his Dark Empress. She nodded.

“I’m sorry, former King Sombra,” he said. “But a shadow cannot serve two masters. And I have chosen mine.” He moved closer to the Empress until he was hovering directly over her head.

“You see, Sombra,” the Empress said, “my new prime minister of shadows was able to, shall we say, see the light. I managed to convince him that, once you were gone, I would need someone by my side to help rule Equestria. Someone with the skills and aptitude to both lead Umbrum and command ponies.”

“Naturally, I nominated myself,” Invidia said.

“I guess the Umbrum aren’t renowned for their humility,” Starlight remarked.

“Invidia, you can’t let her do this,” Sombra pleaded. “If you don’t help, she’ll kill me!”

The Empress took a few more steps toward him. “Oh, no, Sombra. I won’t kill you. The further deterioration of this temporary form of yours will do that for me. I’m just want to make you scream until it happens.”

Indeed, Sombra screamed. He screamed very loudly as both the Empress and Invidia’s dark magic beams tore into him. His whole form — what little of it remained — convulsed. Even as tough and hardened a pony as Starlight had to avert her eyes.

“And then, once you’re nothing but a dry piece of bone,” the Empress taunted, “I’ll take it to the very top deck of this accursed vessel and kick it into the ocean. I mean, if you fade away this time, I think you’re gone for good. But we can never be too careful. That was a lesson you always failed to learn.”

Sombra forced himself to speak through the pain. “Invidia, you’re... you’re going to let... to let her do this? You’d betray... betray... betray your Emperor? Your champion? You’re one... one of my people.... How can you betray me?”

“You never did understand your own people very well, now did you?” Invidia asked. “We’re cruel and selfish creatures. Evil is our good. It’s the same for all of us Umbrum.”

“Not all of us.”

Starlight looked up just in time to see another dark form, this one blue-green, come swooping in. It crashed into Invidia and knocked him to the grating. Then there appeared to be a scuffle. All that Starlight could make out was one massive cloud of murky black. But the sounds of fighting were intense. It was enough for the Empress to break off tormenting Sombra and turn her attention to it.

“What is this?” she demanded. “What is going on?”

It was a good question, even from a bad pony. Starlight had to admit (if only to herself) that she did not have the answer.

Finally, however, the darkness lifted. At least as far as the two Umbrum were concerned. The fight stopped and there was Invidia, wrapped up tightly in a long, twisted piece of what Starlight assumed to be one of the spindly pipes which were common on the ship.

Starlight did not have long to consider it, however. She felt hooves on her shoulder. She looked up with a start. There was a familiar pony kneeling beside her.

“Dr. Fie? I never expected to see you here!”

Dr. Fie held his hoof to his mouth and spoke more quietly than Starlight had. “Believe me, I never wanted to be here, dear lady. But when duty calls, what can we do but answer?”

A crack about Dr. Fie’s sense of duty flashed through Starlight’s mind, but she thought better of making it, given the current circumstances. Instead, she said, “Dr. Fie, I never thought I’d actually be glad to see you.”

“And yet, I’m always glad to be seen.”

“I noticed.”

Dr. Fie helped her up. “Come along, dear lady. You’re a sitting target out here.”

As Dr. Fie tried to lead her to a safer position, Starlight pulled herself from his grasp.

“Have you gone mad, madam? Do you want yourself blown to kingdom come?”

Starlight dived down and seized the scroll between her hooves. She could probably have used her magic, but Starlight feared that any use of magic might draw too much attention. Just as she had long preached, being utterly unworthy of notice was a proven advantage here.

There was also another reason for holding back. Starlight looked at the text of the spell. She might need all her magic energy for later.

“I’m not crazy, doctor,” Starlight said as she ran with Dr. Fie. “I just needed to get this.”

“What in Equestria could be so important as to require risking your life?”

“Oh, it’s nothing. Just a scrap of paper. You could say it has sentimental value.”

“‘Sentimental value,’ madam? Harumph! You are crazy. And I’m a doctor, so—”

“So you know about these things. I know. Now, let’s get out of here, doctor.”

Invidia looked at the pipes around him, trying to figure out what had happened. As the realization seemed to dawn on him, he began to laugh.

“Misericordia, you fool. Do you think his can hold me? We are Umbrum! We can take any form we please. I shall be out of this in no time!”

“That wasn’t supposed to hold you,” Misericordia responded. “Your own hubris was enough to do that. No, this was only meant to distract you.

“Distract me from what, exactly?””

“From me preparing to do this.” Misericordia grabbed hold of Invidia and punted him down into the darkness below the platform. The blue-green Umbrum then floated gently over to Dr. Fie and Starlight.

Starlight jumped back. “Umbrum!” she shouted. Her horn began to glow turquoise.

“No!” Dr. Fie jumped between them, waving his forelegs. “He’s on our side now! He brought me here.”

“The pipes should tie Invidia’s wings down and keep him from righting himself, Dr. Fie,” Misericordia said. “We won’t see him for a while.”

Starlight shook her head. “How did I miss so much? Ponies teaming up with an Umbrum. I can’t believe it.”

“Tell me about it,” Misericordia said. “I can’t believe a handsome Umbrum like me must join forces with such a hideous-looking creature as you.”

Starlight put her forelegs over her head to cover her hair. “That’s the third appearance-based insult I’ve gotten this week. Maybe I should really think about changing my mane-do.”

“Quit your gibbering, both of you,” Dr. Fie said. Starlight realized he was looking straight ahead, his eyes wide with fear.

The Empress was glaring at them. She had begun to approach.

“My, my, dear Hope,” Dr. Fie said nervously. “What red eyes you have. You know, they have drops for that now. I can write you a prescription. I am a doctor, after all.”

“Silence, you idiot!” bellowed the Empress.

“That is not Radiant Hope, Dr. Fie,” said Misericordia. “It is only a dark reflection of her, her anger and her rage.”

“Yes, yes, I got the primer, you preening popinjay,” Dr. Fie responded.

“I didn’t!” Starlight said. “Tell me about it. What are you saying?”

“Sombra used dark energy to corrupt Radiant Hope. He found the part of her formed by the pain of rejection and disappointment over her whole life. The part of her that could have made her like him if she let it. He brought it out and gave it control over her.”

“Aren’t we a chatterbox?” the Empress said. “And here I thought you were loyal to me, Misericordia.”

“I am loyal to Radiant Hope,” said Misericordia. “I am not loyal to you.”

The Empress shrugged. “Well, it just makes you someone else who let me down. I’ve learned to accept betrayal by now.” Her horn began to glow a dark, blood red. “But just because I accept it, it doesn’t mean I forgive. I am a wrathful Empress.”

Before, she could unleash a blast, Starlight stepped out in front of Dr. Fie and Misericordia.

“Hope, stop!” she ordered. Her voice was loud enough and confident enough that even the Empress was taken aback. The Empress’ horn ceased glowing.

“You dare order me around?” the Empress asked, indignant. “I am your Empress.”

“No, you’re not,” Starlight answered. “Hope was just a pony who was hurting. I think you are, too. I understand. I was like you. I am like you.”

For a moment, the Empress’ features seemed to soften. “Starlight...?” she asked, her voice suggesting a scared child rather than a fearsome terror.

“I’m here for you,” Starlight responded. “I’m here for whatever you need, Hope.”

Saying this was a mistake, as Starlight realized while watching all the burning anger flood the Empress’ face once more.

“I am not Hope and we’re nothing alike.”

“But we are,” Starlight said, trying to figure out how to talk herself out of the mess that she made. “We’re more alike than I’d like to admit. I’ve been angry too. I’ve known what it’s like to have ponies turn their back on me. I’ve been stabbed in the back. And I’ve wanted revenge. But I’d never do what you’re doing. I’d never threaten other ponies, or all of Equestria.”

The Empress chuckled a mirthless chuckle. “Oh, no? Then what’s the scroll for, Starlight?”

Starlight looked down. She was holding the time-travel spell against her chest.

Dang.

“Something that will finally let you get even with Twilight?” the Empress asked. “Why do I have the feeling that it’s capable of doing far more damage than I ever could?”

She’s right. This spell, it’s unfinished. But I can already tell, it has the potential to rewrite history. One mistake, and all of Equestria could be reduced to dust. The only type of pony who would use that for personal gain is a pony like....

Starlight felt a blast of magic. She fell backward into Dr. Fie, who himself toppled into Misericordia, who himself only barely managed to avoid falling over and taking the other two with him.

The scroll went flying.

Starlight at first thought the Empress had blasted her. But it was not possible. She had been looking at her, and she had not fired. Nor was it another Umbrum. Well, not Invidia or Luxuria, at least. They were not around. As Starlight recovered, she realized that it could only be one pony.

“Sombra!”

Sombra, now barely more than a head and a trail of dark vapor, leapt — or perhaps flew is more accurate — and grabbed the spell in his teeth. He used his magic to float it up and unfurl it before him.

“What are you doing?” Starlight yelled.

“I must escape,” Sombra said. “I must get out here before I fade completely. Surely, this spell can take me back to the times when the Umbrum reigned. They can save me.”

Starlight charged toward him. “You’re a fool, Sombra! The spell still needs work. Long, painstaking work. Use it now and you won’t be able to control where it takes you.”

“Nonsense,” Sombra said. “A pony of my dark power shall be able to direct it however I like.”

Starlight leapt for the scroll. “You’re blinded by your arrogance, Sombra!”

“I’m not the only one,” Sombra responded, ready to blast her.

He never got the chance. Both of them were subject to another blast of dark magic. Starlight fell on to the grating and, a moment later, Sombra did so nearby. The spell fell in-between them.

“I grow tired of this,” the Empress said, approaching. “It was fun but now it’s not. I think I’ll just go ahead and destroy both of you.”

Dr. Fie blocked her path. “You can’t, dear girl! I know you and this isn’t you! This isn’t my Radiant Hope!”

The Empress snarled. “I. Am. Not. Hope!”

She could have hit Dr. Fie with dark magic. But she did not. Instead, she turned around and bucked him up into the air. Misericordia quickly dashed upward to grab Dr. Fie, saving him from either a hard landing or bouncing into the void. Or perhaps both. Under normal circumstances, the good doctor would have screamed. But not now. He was too dazed to make any noises whatsoever,

At least one good thing came out of this, Starlight thought.

“That felt surprisingly good,” the Empress said as he resumed her approach.

Starlight looked from the Empress to the spell. It was just close enough. With a little bit of effort, she was able to crawl toward it.

A dark blast landed just where Starlight had been.

Picking up her pace. Starlight made for the spell. She noticed Sombra, writhing in pain. The Empress’ dark magic was really affecting him. Starlight again felt a strange pity for Sombra. But she could not ignore the opportunity it gave her to reach the spell.

As she did so, her eyes locked with Sombra’s.

“Use the spell,” Sombra said, his voice very weak.

“I can’t,” Starlight said. “It’s not ready.”

“Please....”

Before Starlight could answer, she felt herself rocked by pain. She and Sombra both flew up into the air and landed a few feet away, nearer to each other than before. Starlight had been smart this time. She had held the scroll close to her chest with both hooves. She had it still.

“That was just for fun,” the Empress said. “The next one will be lethal.”

Starlight looked behind her. The Empress was preparing a knock-out blow. Or much more than a knock-out, by the looks of it. A large dark ball of what almost resembled purple-black mud was coming to be around her horn. Lightning sparked all around it.

“Please, use the spell,” Sombra said, his voice now a whisper.

Starlight knew she had no choice. She read the spell one last time. Her horn began to glow. The scroll levitated beside her.

Well, here goes nothing.

Above her, a hole began to tear itself open in the fabric of the darkness. The hole then reshaped itself into a bubble. The bubble grew wider and wider. It began to exert a pull, a light pull at first but one which gradually grew stronger. Nothing could resist it.

Pieces of the ship, pieces of pipe and grating and railing, flew into the bubble and disappeared. Everything which could be pulled loose was. Even the shards of Princess Amore were not immune. They were lifted up and once more suspended in the air. For a brief moment, they glowed with dark energy. Then the force exerted from above became too great. The fragments disappeared into the bubble.

The Dark Empress was pulled upward. Her mane hair flew in every direction around her and obscured her vision. Beginning to panic, she quickly cast a dark spell. A black ooze formed around her body, holding her in place.

Misericordia held tight to Dr. Fie and tried to fly in the opposite direction. He beat his wings as quickly as possible, but he could only slow down, not stop the pull.

Starlight rose into the air.

This is happening! This is actually happening!

She looked over. Sombra was floating beside her. He smiled.

“Thank you,” he whispered. Despite everything that he had just tried to do to Starlight, despite his general personality and behavior, Starlight felt that his gratitude was genuine.

“Go, Starlight, go to your revenge!” the Empress called out. “You’ll just fail again!”

Starlight shook her head sadly. “Oh, Hope. I’m not looking for revenge. Not right now.”

She then looked to Misericordia and to the doctor, held precariously in his grip.

“I’m going to try to get back,” she said. “Doctor, try to keep Hope here while I’m gone. Friendly Umbrum... thing.... try to keep Dr. Fie safe.”

Misericordia was too busy fighting the current of the air to answer, but Dr. Fie offered a groggy, “Never fear, Fie is here....”

And then the pull became too great. Starlight felt herself drawn upward into the portal. The scroll was beside her, and so was Sombra, but where they would end up, she had no idea.

Misericordia could not hold back any longer. With Dr. Fie in his forelegs, he was pulled toward the bubble at top speed. But, with the spell having gone through, the bubble was beginning to contract. As it got smaller and smaller, Misericordia made one last-ditch attempt to save himself and the good doctor.

He beat his wings once more, with all his might. For a brief moment, he succeeded in gaining some inches in the opposite direction. But then, the ever-shrinking bubble won out and pulled him in.

“We’re doomed! We’re all doomed!” Dr. Fie, having fully recovered, shrieked.

Before Misericordia could say anything, he was sucked into the bubble. Or at least his head was. By now, the bubble was too small for any more of him.

Dr. Fie looked up as Misericordia struggled and thrashed. The transparent bubble pulled itself more tightly around his head, making it seem almost as though the fearsome creature was wearing a fishbowl. The slight distortion of light caused by the bubble exaggerated his features but, instead of making his face more terrifying, it just made him seem ridiculous.

“Oh, quit playing around, you bubble-headed booby!” Dr. Fie exclaimed.

Finally, Misericordia wrestled himself free. The now-tiny bubble popped out of existence behind him.

Misericordia lowered himself to the platform and put Dr. Fie down. The doctor began to brush himself off. He then felt his jaw.

“I must say,” Dr. Fie said. “Dear Hope could have been a champion apple-bucker. She has the power for it.”

“That’s not the only power I have, doctor,” said the Empress.

Dr. Fie and Misericordia both jumped. In the chaos and confusion, it had been easy to forget about even such a danger as the Dark Empress. But now, here she was. And she looked ready to kill.

Dr. Fie put out his hooves in front of him. “Come now, dear girl. I can understand your anger at that disreputable Starlight Glimmer and at Sombra, but you can’t be angry at your dear old friend, your old bosom pal, Dr. Fiddly Fie.”

“You’ve betrayed me,” the Empress said, “you’ve lied to me. And I’m really mad about losing Starlight and my so-called ‘best friend.’ As such, I’m in the mood to blow somepony up. And you’re here, doctor.”

The Empress took several large steps, closing the distance between herself and Dr. Fie. He tried backing away, but she was too quick for him. He was hers.

But just as she reached him, she came to a dead stop.

Dr. Fie fell to his haunches. “No, please! No, don’t do this, dear girl! You can’t do this!”

“It is no use talking to her, Dr. Fie,” said Misericordia as he moved to shield the doctor. “As I keep saying, she is not Radiant Hope.”

The Empress shook her head and recovered herself. She smiled. Her horn began to glow. “Finally, somepony who gets it. Hope is gone.”

Dr. Fie threw his head to the ground and covered it with his hooves. Misericordia expanded himself as far as he could, in order to try and absorb the blast.

But the Empress did nothing. She just stood there, her horn glowing. Dr. Fie looked out from under his hooves. The Empress’ eyes did not meet his. Her eyes did not meet anyone’s. They just stared out blankly, with a glazed look upon them.

Dr. Fie slowly recovered his courage. He began to crawl over. Slowly, cautiously, carefully, he got into a sitting position. He tapped the Empress on the shoulder. Nothing.

He tried again. Nothing.

Nothing, that is, until the Empress spoke. Dr. Fie jumped nearly a mile. His scream pierced the darkness.

She said, “What do you mean, ‘Hope is never really gone?’”

---

“What do you mean, ‘Hope is never really gone?’” asked the other Hope.

“Exactly what I said,” Radiant Hope responded. “Something remains, no matter what.”

Hope walked in a circle around this pony, surveying her.

“So, which one are you?” she asked.

“Which what?”

“Which one of me are you?”

The other Hope let out a cold and cruel laugh. A sickening, screeching laugh. The type of laugh Hope associated with the Umbrum.

“I am not you,” she said.

“But you look like me, so you must be me.” Hope stopped. She waved her hoof in the direction of the other Hope’s face. “Except for the whole black-and-white facepaint look. A little too intense, don’t you think?”

“Intensity is one of my virtues,” responded the other. “So is strength. So is courage.”

“I don’t think you’re my courage,” Hope said. “I’m not sure those bright red eyes are really saying courage. More like ‘I should really have this looked at.’ You know, they have drops for stuff like this now. Or I could just heal you....”

Hope did not know if magic could even work wherever this was. She did not even know why she was trying to heal another version of herself. But it came instinctively. She was a healer, after all.

“What do you think you’re doing?” the other Hope said. “Your pathetic attempts at magic won’t work here. You are nothing but a memory. An echo.”

A small blue light appeared in the darkness.

“I’m apparently a very powerful echo,” Hope said.

The other Hope seemed at first confused. Then panic set in. “How? How can you access the healing magic? It belongs to me now! It is mine!”

“Aha,” Hope said. “So you are me!”

“I am not you.”

“You are, though. You have to be. You look like me. You... well, you don’t sound like me. But you’ve got the look down! Again, except for the facepaint thing. Seriously, it looks like you’re going through a phase. I never went through a phase like that, did I?”

“Silence!” As the other Hope yelled, her horn began to grow an ominous, burning red. It put the blue of Hope’s own horn to shame.

“I am not you, Radiant Hope. Hope is gone.”

“I’m not gone. I’m kinda getting offended that you keep saying it.”

The other Hope looked at her in disdain. As though she despised Hope and everything she was. Hope had seen that level of hatred in a pony’s eyes only once. It was the same look that was in Sombra’s eyes when he turned Princess Amore to stone.

The other Hope sneered. “I am not you. I am everything you could have been. I am everything you should have been, had you just listened to me. And now, I am your destiny. I am the Dark Empress of the Umbrum, and you will kneel before me!”

The red of the Empress’ horn began to glow with an even more feverish intensity. It seemed to Hope as though she was trying to cast a spell.

Nothing happened.

“Yeah,” Hope said. “I didn’t think that was going to work. My healing magic didn’t work on you, so why would your dark magic work on me? I don’t think our magic works in this place at all,”

“Your so-called ‘magic’ didn’t work on me because there is nothing to heal. I am not sick. Look at me. I am better than you and you know it.”

"I am looking and I have to say, with all the black and white and red, I'm not getting a better than you vibe. I'm getting angsty teenager." Hope paused and thought. "Wait, is that where you are from? No, wait, I never was an angsty teen. Sombra, on the other hand....”

Hope fell silent. The answer began to occur to her. Not all at once, but in bits and pieces. She spoke out loud, more to herself than to the Empress — though, was there really a difference? — as she tried to work it out. “Sombra. That red, that’s the color his horn became.... And you call yourself the Dark Empress.... It looks like you’re trying to use dark magic, which means.... Anger. You’re angry.... But I wasn’t angry when I was the Empress of the Umbrum. Not like this, at least.... I was angry a little at Sombra, and also myself, but I never became this.... So, if you’re not my past, you must be....”

“I am your destiny.”

Hope held up a hoof. “Yeah, destiny. I still don’t believe in it. And besides, how dare you try to tell my what my destiny is! That’s personal.”

The Empress raised her brows. “Really? And here I thought you wanted us to be the same person.”

Hope shrugged. “Well, you’re the one who said you weren’t me. But you are me, somehow. I know it. But if you’re not my past... and you can’t be my future because I choose it... then you must be.... an alternate timeline!”

“What?” the Empress practically spat. “How does that even follow? I am not your alternate. I am your superior!”

“Okay, okay,” Hope said. “It was a silly idea. Alternate timelines are so played-out these days, don’t you think?”

“Only a tremendous idiot could come up with such a thing.”

Hope tapped her chin. “Okay, so first guess wrong. But my second guess will be right. You’re my present, aren’t you?”

Hope had an idea. She rushed her doppelgänger, practically throwing her own face into the black-and-white one of the Empress. suddenly got really close into the Empress’ face. The dark pony jumped a little. It was good to know that even someone who took herself so seriously could still be caught off-guard.

“Sombra did something to me, didn’t he?” Hope asked. “When he did the ceremony? He filled me with his darkness. You’re the result, am I right? You’re the one who’s in control of my body right now, aren’t you?”

“And putting it to better use than you ever have.” The pride in the Empress’ voice and bearing was unmistakable.

Hope smirked. “Really? You should have seen some of the things I’ve done. You would have liked them.”

“I have seen them.” The Empress’ voice was now very quiet. Hope could only barely catch what she had said.

“So, what are you, some kind of hybrid?” Hope asked. “A little of me? A little of him?”

“Oh please,” the Empress responded. “If there’s one thing worse than being you, it would be being your child.”

Hope nodded. “Okay, so not a hybrid, then. Maybe a parasite? Something put in my mind to take me over?”

The Empress rolled her eyes. “What kind of a stupid idea is that? Do you think up these things yourself or is there some other nitwit somewhere who actually comes up with them for you?”

Hope was too deep in her own thoughts for the insult to affect her much. “So, you’re not a hybrid. And you’re not a parasite. But you’re me, somehow.”

“Enough!” the Dark Empress snapped. Her horn grew bright enough to fill the whole surrounding area with its blood-red glow. Not that it revealed anything worth seeing. “I keep telling you, but you won’t listen. I am not you.”

“Oh, but I am listening,” Hope said. “I’m listening to all of me, maybe for the first time. But what am I missing? Feels like there’s something....”

“You’ve missed a whole lot over the last thousand years. I should know.”

Hope pointed her hoof in the Empress’ face. Once again, it was fast enough that the Empress was caught off-guard. She flinched.

But Hope was excited now. “Exactly! How should you know? You said something before. When I mentioned all I’ve done. You said, ‘I have seen them.’ There’s an exact quote. At least, I think it’s an exact quote. You kind of mumbled your words there. If you’re going to be the Empress of Umbrum, you should really enunciate better.”

“My enunciation is fine. Your chittering, on the other hoof, grows annoying.”

“That’s what all the ponies at the orphanage used to say.”

And then, the red light went out. The Empress tried turning her back on Hope. She clearly did not want to be seen. Hope sensed that there was something important here, so she trotted around to face the Empress again. The Empress either did not have the energy or the interest to keep this up, and so just sat there while Hope studied her face in her own horn’s blue light. Gone was the anger. There was a new emotion, not just in the Empress’ expression, but in how she carried herself. No more did see seem like the proud and wrathful ruler of monsters. The Empress wrapped her forelegs around herself and tried to appear small.

“Oh,” Hope said, “you’re in pain.”

“Shut up.”

Hope reached out a hoof and touched the Empress’ shoulder. When she did, she felt a static shock. “Yes, you are. I should know what it looks like by now. But why? Why, when all I did was mention the orphanage?”

The Empress looked up, with burning red eyes. She swatted Hope’s hoof away. Everything was cast in red once more, except now with an even greater, more primal, intensity.

“Why did you have to mention that place? Why?”

Hope was taken aback. But she was not upset. She could not be upset with this other pony, this other her. Not once she saw how much this Hope was hurting.

The red light dimmed a little. The Empress turned her back on Hope again. Hope once more put her hoof to the Empress’ shoulder, only for it to once again be swatted away, this time with enough force to nearly send Hope tumbling backward.

After she recovered herself, Hope thought to press the Empress on what she had just said. However, the Empress seemed to have no inclination to say more, at least not initially. But, knowing ponies like she hoped she did — knowing herself like she hoped she did — Hope felt it better to just wait. The other pony would open up in her own good time. It is what Hope would do, after all.

And Hope was right. At last, the red light faded. The Empress turned back around. Hope could make out a watery sheen to the black lines below her eyes. She must have been crying.

“Why did you have to mention the orphanage? The place where it all began?”

“Where what began?” Hope asked, as gently as she could.

“All of it!” the Empress snapped. “The pain. The rejection. The sense beaten into us that we were different from other ponies. Those other foals and fillies and colts were so, so cruel.”

Hope nodded in understanding. “Yes. Yes, they were. But then we met Sombra.”

“Like that made anything better!”

“It did. For a while.”

“For a while!” the Empress scoffed. “And then he left us! He rejected us! Then he rejected us during the Siege and then just now! He rejected us three times! Just like the two Royal Sisters, when we asked them to save him! They ignored us and banished him! Just like the Umbrum, who manipulated us and all the while were mocking us behind our backs! A thousand years, a thousand years of nothing but rejection!”

Hope thought for a moment. She had to admit, the Empress’ words were bringing back old memories she would rather not revisit. She could understand why the Empress was so hung up on them. They were painful.

She smiled gently and spoke softly. “Life hasn’t been fair to you — to us — has it?”

“No, no, of course it hasn’t!” The Empress clearly was not enjoying this attempt at empathy. “Any more obvious understatements you want to make?”

“But we have friends now,” Hope said, hopefully. “We finally have ponies who care about us.”

The Empress just waved her hoof at this. “They’ll reject us too, eventually. You know they will.”

“I don’t know what the future holds. Life’s gonna hurt some more, probably. Maybe the ponies we care about leave us or let us down. But even if they do, we can still go on. We have to go on. But not in anger and pain and despair. We need to keep going in hope.”

“Hope? Hope!” The red light became blinding. It was now the Empress’ turn to throw herself in Hope’s face. “And if they all leave us, if they all reject us, what is the point of hope? You tell me, Radiant Hope, what is the point?”

Hope was taken aback. Her blue light began to glow dimmer. But just as it seemed about to fade completely, it started to increase in intensity again. The blue glow grew greater and greater until it matched the force and intensity of the red one, creating a mixed, purple glow in the space between the two Hopes.

Hope spoke. Her voice was quiet, but calm and firm. “It’s not all about us.”

The Empress let out a loud growl. Then she began stomping around, putting a few paces between herself and Radiant Hope.

“You don’t understand!” said the Empress. “After all this time, you still don’t understand!”

“Of course, I understand!” Hope responded. “I know things what we’ve gone through. I know how much it hurt!”

And then, the red light burst forth again. Hope could now see nothing else. But she could hear the Empress’ voice.

“But you never did anything about it! Oh sure, you caused the Siege and all. But that wasn’t for revenge. That wasn’t to pay them back for all the pain. That wasn’t to express all the anger you felt somewhere deep inside. No, you’re too noble, your motives are too pure, you are a good pony.”

“I’m not trying to be a good pony,” Hope said. “I’m just trying to be me.”

“Oh, but you are a good pony,” said the Empress. “And a good pony never acts on all the agony, all the pain, all the anger she’s ever felt. She bottles all that up deep inside. Instead of letting it loose, instead of letting it take her to her revenge, she ignores it. She rejects it.”

Hope tried to get closer. “Of course, I never gave in to feelings of anger and rage. I barely even felt them.”

“But they were there.”

Hope nodded slowly. “I know. But why would I give into them? Sure, things hurt, but I never felt the need for revenge. Even when I felt angry, I never saw the need for turning against other ponies. I’ve gone down a lot of paths, but that’s one path I completely rejected.”

“I know,” said the Empress coldly.

Hope had now gotten quite close. But seeing it, the Empress shouted, “Stay away from me! I don’t want you near me!”

Hope halted. The Empress took several steps backward. Now they just stood there, staring at each other, with their horns aglow. Half of this void was stained blue, the other half red.

“Why? Why don’t you want to be near me?” Hope asked. “Why don’t you want to be a part of me?”

“Because, the path you rejected, the path of anger and wrath? Don’t you see, Radiant Hope? Don’t you see what you did when you rejected that path?”

Even in the red light, Hope could see a tear find its way down the Empress’ cheek.

“You rejected me.”

---

Where would Starlight and Sombra end up? And would Hope overcome the Empress?

Read on.

Comments

[Fome]

What's this a crossover with?

[Shenzy]

“Did you know that the wings of a pegasus, when moving fast enough, actually work like a blade?” he asked Hope, who was still too out of it to pay much attention.

Nonsense. Someone saw too much Anime!