[Misplaced]

by awesomesauce4

Chapter 5 - All That Glitters...

What feels like hours later, you’re feeling rather warm and comfortable. The cold stone on your back has faded to a dull, cool sensation, and you feel something draped across your chest, breathing gently as stray hairs occasionally flutter against your face. A warmth not your own suffuses your torso, and you hear a gentle murmur as something nuzzles into your sweater. You attempt to nuzzle right back, only to find something hard and pointy blocking your way.

You open your eyes to find Chrysalis’ bladed horn inches from your face, and aimed directly between your eyes. The warmth you were feeling earlier quickly fades as you reach out an arm to softly push the horn into a less deadly position. Chrysalis murmurs something, frowning, and opens her eyes.

“Why’d you stop?” she complains.

“Huh?” you ask, looking at her quizzically.

“You were giving me love, even in your sleep… and then you stopped. Did I do something wrong?” she asked worriedly.

You shake your head. “No… just me being dumb.”

Chrysalis looks as though she wants to argue this point, but a well-timed belly rub by you sends her into a dreamy stupor again.

But now that you’re awake, you begin to wonder again. You can’t stop thinking about the strange scenario you’re currently living out. Back when you entered, you thought you were playing some kind of game, and that does seem to be the case… kind of. But if you’re in a game… are any of these characters even real? Are Nightmare Moon and Chrysalis just hallucinations, or worse, programmed intelligences? How would you even know? You know you’re not an artificial intelligence, because either you’d be perfectly aware of that or you wouldn’t have gained any kind of self-awareness in the first place. But it’s not like you can read their thoughts…

You look down at Chrysalis, who’s staring up at you with an unamused scowl. “Okay, this isn’t working. Whatever you’re thinking of, stop it this instant,” she commands in a surly tone.

You look away, embarrassed and a little ashamed. Chrysalis can clearly tell you’re worried about something – she can sense emotions. “Sorry,” you mumble. “I just… it’s hard for me to tell if what I’m seeing is real. This all seems so unfamiliar…”

Chrysalis looks at you in surprise for a moment, before a smirk curls her lips. “And here I thought I was the only one,” she mutters, shaking her head. She briefly considers for a moment, before slamming a hoof square into your chest, causing you to lurch forward in shock. It didn’t really hurt, but it was surprising enough to knock the wind out of you. “There. Is that enough proof you’re not dreaming?” she offers, grinning.

You take a moment to recover your breath, grinning back despite yourself. Your grin becomes an amused chuckle, then a full-blown laugh. “How would I have ever dreamed up someone like you?” you realize, talking as much to yourself as replying to her. You pull her into another hug, holding her more tightly than you normally do as a subtle revenge for socking you in the chest. Chrysalis grunts as you squeeze the life out of her chest, but she’s laughing too.

Nightmare Moon chooses this moment to reappear, carrying no less than three new Keys in her magic.

“You solved all the other puzzles?” you query incredulously.

Nightmare Moon shrugs. “Prithee, they presented nary a challenge. Thou knoweth we art capable without thee, nay?” she chides.

You look away bashfully, but inside you’re secretly happy. If they can carry out actions without your even knowing or doing anything, they must be real people.

[ITEM: Topaz Key] [A key as orange as a fading sunset. One of six keys needed.]

[ITEM: Aquamarine Key] [A key as cyan as the morning sky. One of six keys needed.]

[ITEM: Amethyst Key] [A key as purple as the starry dusk. One of six keys needed.]

[Your inventory is now full.]

The message pops up just as you manage to stuff the Amethyst Key inside your backpack, shifting around a few of the other ones to make room as crystalline clinks echo throughout the large room.

“That’s all six. So, how do we unlock the door with them?” Chrysalis wonders.

The three of you wander over to the door, surveying the imposing surface. The six keyholes are just barely within your reach, and you pull out a random Key and view the back of it.

“Looks like this one goes… here?” you try, reaching up and slotting it in. It fits perfectly, and the Topaz Key begins to glow a burning orange, shimmering with an inner fire. “Pretty,” you comment, and Nightmare Moon snorts.

It’s short work to put in the other five Keys, and as you slot the last one in, the center in the circle begins to glow white, before rotating around once as a massive thunk emanates from inside the titanic door.

“Why is this door so big, anyway?” you wonder.

“To admit multiple prisoners, mayhap? We hath ne’er seen yon our Isolation,” Nightmare muses.

“Who cares? We easily completed their silly little puzzle. I bet from here, it’s going to be a breeze to the exit,” Chrysalis proclaims cockily, strutting forth.

Rolling your eyes in unison with Nightmare Moon, the two of you move to join her, finally leaving the Diamond Room behind you.

Tartarus is considerably different beyond this door: Torches light an endless hallway of barred cells, the bare orange light casting flickering shadows everywhere. Nightmare Moon, in stark contrast with the somber mood of this section, is smiling and looking around in approval.

“Aye, this be a prison proper. No foalish puzzles, no vast, crystalline architecture… just a small, confined space to reflect on one’s wrongdoings.”

You raise an eyebrow at her. “Are you… complimenting the prison we’re trying to escape from?” you ask incredulously.

Nightmare Moon scoffs and looks away, slightly embarrassed. “We canst appreciate aesthetic, can we not?” she retorts.

You roll your eyes as dramatically as you can, and she snorts with laughter. The two of you bump into Chrysalis, who’s stopped moving and is standing as silently and still as she can, judging by the slight trembling of her legs. The smile slides off your face as you follow her petrified gaze.

A lone pony is sitting in the middle of the hallway… well, perhaps sitting isn’t the right description. It’s more… drooping in the middle of the hallway, parts of the white, pearlescent substance coating its whole body dripping and melting off of it in a seemingly endless puddle. Its face is half-melted, slipping down its skull, and what appears to have once been a wing is now fused to its side. It doesn’t appear to have legs anymore, and as you stare at it in shock and a little fear, it slowly turns its head to stare back. There are no eyes in its dripping sockets, just twin black pits where the liquid appears to have receded right into its skull.

“What is that?” you breathe to the other two, unsure if… it can hear you.

“We doth not know,” Nightmare Moon breathes back, trying with all her might to keep her voice as quiet as yours.

“It doesn’t… feel,” Chrysalis mumbles under her breath, still staring at it in horror.

“Think we can get around it?” you ask.

Slowly, so slowly that you’re unsure if she’s moving at all, Chrysalis makes her way to the side of the corridor, and begins edging her way past the creature, her wings raised and ready to fly at a moment’s notice. The creature either doesn’t notice or care, as it’s still staring directly at you, even though both Nightmare Moon and Chrysalis are closer to it now. Chrysalis makes it across with little difficulty, and breathes a barely audible sigh of relief before motioning that the two of you follow. Nightmare Moon moves forward, and to your surprise, she moves quite a bit faster than Chrysalis did, skirting around the creature as quickly as she can.

“We think… we think it canst not ‘see’ us,” she spoke up, using her normal tone of voice and watching the creature carefully. “Thou mayest advance without difficulty.”

Despite her encouragement, you’re still cautious, and edge around the creature quickly but silently. Just as you’re about to make it to safety, it swivels its head around to look at you again, and leaps forward, droplets of the mysterious viscous liquid splattering everywhere as it lunges at you. Time slows, and you stumble back with a choked cry for a moment before realizing you’re not being attacked… yet.

[A Melted attacks you!]

[50/50] [FIGHT] [RUN] [DO NOTHING] [FLIRT] [SPARE] [ITEM]

Oh. This again. So these things are called ‘Melted’? And there’s more than one. That is… not good for your future prospects. Well, you’d better see if this thing comprehends mercy.

>>[SPARE]

“It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you,” you cajole, moving the little ‘heart’ on the screen to dodge drops of that white, viscous substance. The Melted doesn’t appear to react.

[A Melted attacks you!]

[50/50] [FIGHT] [RUN] [DO NOTHING] [FLIRT] [SPARE] [ITEM]

>>[SPARE]

“Um… hello? Can you hear me?” you ask, a little worried now. The Melted continues to not react whatsoever. Seems like you’d better try something else for now.

[A Melted attacks you!]

[42/50] [FIGHT] [RUN] [DO NOTHING] [FLIRT] [SPARE] [ITEM]

>>[DO NOTHING]

You wait there, and so does it. The two of you are locked in a staring contest you can’t possibly win, considering it has no eyelids with which to blink.

[A Melted attacks you!]

[42/50] [FIGHT] [RUN] [DO NOTHING] [FLIRT] [SPARE] [ITEM]

>>[DO NOTHING]

You continue to stand there. The Melted is as still as a statue, even the liquid normally dripping off of it slowing down.

[A Melted attacks you!]

[42/50] [FIGHT] [RUN] [DO NOTHING] [FLIRT] [SPARE] [ITEM]

>>[DO NOTHING]

The Melted has stopped moving completely, droplets frozen in midair. Seems like you might be able to do something now.

[A Melted attacks you!]

[40/50] [FIGHT] [RUN] [DO NOTHING] [FLIRT] [SPARE] [ITEM]

>>[SPARE]

“Um. We… don’t have to fight. Maybe we could just… you know, be friends?” you try again uncertainly. For a second, it appears to once again be unresponsive, but it gives you a droopy smile for a split second before vanishing entirely.

[You won! 0 experience points gained.]

“Human!” Nightmare Moon yelps, leaping forward to stand between you and where the Melted was. However, it’s vanished entirely, and she looks at where it was in amazement before looking back at you. “What… what didst thee just doeth?” she wonders, looking at you in surprise.

“I… um… I…” you stammer. She should have seen that whole battle – in fact, why didn’t she try to interfere earlier? Weird. And the way she jumped between you and the thing the instant you won... It was almost like she was... frozen, while you were fighting. You look at her for a moment more, still confused and a little terrified, before she sighs.

“Prithee, do not worry about it. Come, the monster hath vanished, we may progress anew,” she encourages, wrapping a wing around you and steering you forward.

It takes a while for you to calm down from your terror in the aftermath from that creepy… thing. You can tell Nightmare Moon and Chrysalis want to know how you made it disappear, but you’re not quite sure you can bring yourself to answer if they ever ask. How would you tell them you apparently have the power to stop time and fight people? Even here, beside a shape-shifting, love-eating insectoid and a moon-themed demon born of someone else’s regrets, that seems just a touch ridiculous. So, the three of you are mostly silent as you creep down the hallways, ready to run should another one of those things appear.

The room gets darker and darker the further you make your way through this prison block, the torches seeming to give off less and less light as you continue forwards.

“You know, I get they’re going for a ‘prison’ theme now… but part of me actually misses those crystals back in the other room,” Chrysalis speaks up, reflecting your apprehension.

“They were pretty,” you agree. Nightmare Moon, meanwhile, is silent, still apparently lost in thought.

“Crystals…?” a voice echoes from around you, and she pales as she whirls around.

“Show yourself!” she demands, wrapping her wings protectively around Chrysalis and you both.

“Mmph?!” Chrysalis squeaks, face covered by fluffy black feathers as she struggles to escape Nightmare’s grasp. You’re also struggling, wanting to see who’s actually attacking the three of you, and after a moment you manage to duck under Nightmare’s wing and stand up again. The shadows swirl all around you, moving despite the torches remaining in the same place.

“How am I to show myself, when I am all around you?” the voice whispers again, a slight chuckle at the end of its hint.

“Who is this?” you ask Nightmare.

“Sombra… a being of shadow magic. We… we art not safe here,” Nightmare Moon declares worriedly, looking left and right at the shadows swirling all around you, dancing across the walls and ceiling like a twisted mockery of flickering flames.

“Oh, Lulu… you’re always safe around me. Unless you’ve sided with your sister…?” Sombra inquires, his voice taking on a deadly edge.

“We – we hath not!” Nightmare Moon denies, whirling her head around to try and spot where this ‘Sombra’ was.

“Come now, I was only joking… aren’t you going to laugh?” Sombra snarks, and at last he steps into the light.

You get the feeling, once upon a time, that this was a very respected… pony? He’s not quite like the picture of the pony you saw earlier. He seems to be quite a lot shorter than Nightmare Moon or Chrysalis, for one thing, maybe a little over four feet tall. His hair moves and shifts just like the smoke he stepped out of, and his eyes glow a bright, vivid green around his crimson irises, translucent purple smoke wafting from the edges as he stares at the three of you. Small fangs peek out from below his upper lip, and the dark, military-trimmed sideburns on either side of his mouth suggest he’s somewhere around middle-age. His horn, unlike Nightmare Moon’s straight jut or Chrysalis’ intricately crooked design, is smooth and curves upward to a perfectly conical and sharp tip, which glows red as though it were nearly molten steel. He wears a crown, a simple steel band with two sets of iron spikes near the ears and two smaller, ruby spikes surrounding an orb of steel in the center. A tattered and frayed red velvet cape with spackled white trim sits unevenly on his back, looking as rumpled as though it hadn’t been ironed straight in a very long time. Perhaps the most imposing thing of all was the armor this pony was wearing, solid steel that encased his neck and chest as well as iron shoes that extended up well past his knees. It’s clear, judging from the armor he wears and his heavyset frame, that this is a pony built for raw physical combat.

“And that’s King Sombra to you, peasants. Luna may refer to me by my name, but I do not see you obtaining that privilege in any reasonable time frame,” he snaps at you and Chrysalis, the bark in his voice sounding very practiced.

“Hold thy waspish tongue, Sombra. They art of equal status to us,” Nightmare Moon retorts, scooting closer to you protectively.

“The insect on your right… hmm, you must be a changeling queen. More of a biological title than a true royal birthright, but I suppose taxonomy never did account for your say in things,” Sombra scoffed.

Chrysalis’ hackles raised. “I am a Queen, you insufferable soot-spewer,” she hisses back. “My bloodright was passed down to me by my mother Vespula. What claim do you have to your throne?”

Sombra glared back at her, and though he was clearly trying to act nonchalant, Chrysalis’ words had clearly struck a chord. “And what of the colt? He has no crown upon his head. Have you adopted, Luna? Surely you aren’t so desperate that you’d resort to such, not when half the stallions are surely banging at your door?” Sombra jeers, and Nightmare Moon growls.

“We art not Luna. We art Nightmare Moon, the destroyer of dreams and the demon of your nightmares!” she snarls back at him.

“Oh? A new persona, then? I see… I suppose it would be hard to distance yourself from that blasted sun princess if you still went by ‘Princess Luna.’” Sombra muses, grinning. “But what of my question, Nightmare? Who is this commoner that you are so defensive of?”

Chrysalis laughs, shifting Sombra’s attention over to her. “Nightmare is merely showing gratitude. This ‘commoner’ has defeated us both in single combat, and he could easily destroy you should you cross him,” Chrysalis smugly declares.

“Oh, really?” Sombra muses, interested, and Nightmare Moon shoots Chrysalis a glare of such clear intention that she actually cringes backward, the words hanging in the air between them even without her voice. Shut. Up. NOW.

“Hmm… I’d love to test that. Poor thing looks like he can barely take a good kick… but alas, I’ve more interesting things to do than disprove the claims of a group who can’t even tell down from up. The exit’s that way, foals,” Sombra sneers, and begins walking back the way you three came. The smoke accompanies him, the room slowly brightening as his receding form disappears into the shadows from which he came.

“Ugh. I know you’re all about rescuing us poor prisoners, but do you think maybe you could come back for him a bit later?” Chrysalis scoffs once he’s out of earshot.

You glance at the corridor where Sombra went, sighing. “I… I don’t know,” you admit.

“Well, at least he’ll discover the exit up there’s blocked. That gives me some satisfaction,” Chrysalis commented, a devilish grin on her face. Nightmare Moon, meanwhile, looks at the floor, a pensive frown on her face.

“Nightmare? You okay?” you ask, noticing her mood.

“Canst thee save him? For… for us?” she asks quietly.

“…Why?” you ask. Not petulantly, but curiously. They did seem to know each other.

“He was… it matters not now. He is somepony we wouldst like to befriend once more,” she whispers.

You think for a while. If anyone could do it, it seems like it would be her. “…Okay. But I’ll need your help. You know him best, after all,” you point out, and Nightmare Moon gives you a hopeful smile.

The three of you walk back through the corridor, noting that the place seems a lot brighter and less sinister now that Sombra is no longer occupying it. “What does he like?” you ask Nightmare Moon after a moment.

“…Steel. Blacksmithing. Not silversmithing, he hates that. Crystals, especially. He was always fond of diamonds…” Nightmare Moon trails off, before her expression abruptly changes and she breaks into a full gallop.

“Wha - hey, wait!” you call after her as you sprint to catch up, only for Chrysalis to easily overtake you.

“Hop on,” she orders, and you practically jump onto her, watching her wince as she takes on your weight before racing on to catch up to Nightmare Moon’s suddenly frantic pace.

The two of you skid to a stop as you enter the Diamond Room – partially to avoid smacking into the massive, enchanted diamond, and partially because you’ve found Nightmare Moon and Sombra. Sombra’s got a hoof on the diamond, seemingly entranced by its depths as he stares into it unblinkingly. Nightmare Moon is poking and prodding him, seemingly trying to get him to say something.

“Guess he’s got ‘more important things’ to look at than you,” Chrysalis quips.

For once, Nightmare doesn’t rise to the banter. “He hath been enchanted by this diamond… We knew it couldst not be trusted! And we let him become entranced…” she lowers her head to the floor mournfully.

You dismount Chrysalis, doing your best not to accidentally kick one of her wings in the process, and move towards Sombra. You gently push his face so that he’s staring away from the diamond. Slowly, almost magnetically, his eyes return to it.

“Do you know what kind of spell it is? Maybe we can break it some other way,” you remark to Nightmare Moon.

She sighs and lights her horn up blue, Sombra’s horn glowing blue in turn for a moment, before she steps away with a grimace. “Another memory spell,” she growls.

“Whoever designed this place doesn’t seem to have much creativity, then,” Chrysalis remarks, again trying to banter with Nightmare Moon in a poor attempt to cheer her up.

You study the diamond intently. Another memory spell, huh?

Before Nightmare Moon or Chrysalis can react, you reach out and place a hand on the diamond. The world goes white, and you fall to the floor.

You pick yourself up, groaning, and are surprised to find that you’re in an open field, birds chirping off in the distance as morning dew permeates an endless plain of what appear to be wheat stalks. The sky overhead is cloudy and gray, and something about this feels nostalgic to you. Nobody is in sight, but there appears to be some kind of noise coming from off to your left, a bright, ringing tone that starts and stops at odd intervals. With nothing else to do, you decide to make your way towards the noise. Maybe it’s Sombra?

As you get closer to the noise, it becomes loud enough to hurt your ears. Fingers firmly over them, you continue to creep through the wheat field, pushing stalks out of the way with your elbows as you try to figure out just where you are. If this is Sombra’s memory, what’s he doing out in the middle of nowhere, anyway? Wasn’t he a King?

You finally figure out what the noise is as you encroach upon a clearing, the wheat here having been uprooted and stacked in piles around the edges. This gives you a convenient hiding spot to observe events from, so you stop a moment and look at the only other person in the clearing.

For a moment, you think it’s Sombra. He certainly looks the same – black hair, green and red eyes, curved horn – but this pony is older than Sombra, judging by the wrinkles in his coat and his larger size. His hair is slightly different, too, and his expression looks a little less vitriolic than Sombra. Is this… his dad? Whoever he is, he’s working at a blacksmith’s forge, pounding away at a chunk of steel that’s still glowing cherry-red.

Your question is immediately answered when a much younger colt enters the scene, pulling a cart full of rusty steel implements. “I’m back… from market…” he pants, evidently exhausted from the weight of the cart.

“Did you get good steel?” The older one asks, without looking.

“I dunno…” the younger colt begins, but is silenced by a growl from the older one. The colt hurriedly clears his throat. “I knoweth not, Father… yon market didst not offer any steel of… sufficient… character…?” he tries, clearly making an effort to pronounce everything clearly.

The ‘father’ rolls his eyes. “Great. Another pile of RUST!” he roars, slamming a hoof down on the floor, and the colt cringes away.

“I – I tried, Father! I tried as best I could! Steel is so rare –“ the colt tried to defend, but the father was having none of it.

“OF COURSE IT’S RARE!” he retorts furiously, bearing down on the young colt. “THAT’S THE WHOLE POINT OF COVERING OURSELVES IN IT, YOU ABSOLUTE WASTE OF MAGIC!” The colt whimpers something as the father picks up a hammer with his magic. “I told you what would happen if you came back without what I needed, and you still disobey me? Maybe you need another lesson…” the father growled, whirling the hammer around a few times in midair.

“N-no! No, I understand! I’ll go! I’ll go get it!” the colt gibbered, tears streaming down his face as he backed away.

“Not before I’ve taught you the price of disobedience, Sombra,” the father spits, slamming his hammer down for effect and causing the stones scattered around it to quake.

You’d better act. Fast.

[FIGHT] [RUN] [DO NOTHING] [FLIRT] [SPARE] [ITEM]

>>[ITEM]

You don’t have any items.

>>[FIGHT]

You sneak up behind Sombra’s father, sneaking into the forge he just left. Coals and embers scatter as you accidentally scuff the floor with your shoe, but Sombra’s father doesn’t seem to notice. Silently, you grab a length of what appears to be steel rod, sliding it out of a rack of broken steel parts. Sombra spots you, and the young colt’s eyes widen in shock as he continues to back away. His father, meanwhile, is still getting ready to hit him, apparently relishing the moment. You continue to sneak up behind his father, still completely unnoticed. It’s now or never.

[FIGHT] [RUN] [DO NOTHING] [FLIRT] [SPARE] [ITEM]

>>[FIGHT]

Wielding the metal rod like a baseball bat, you take aim and swing it at the father’s belly as hard as you can, putting all your strength into it. Wait, what? You only meant to sweep him off his hooves with the metal rod, but for some reason you went all out and smacked him in the stomach. It’s a direct hit, but Sombra’s dad only gets knocked over. You half expected him to be sent flying, but you suppose you aren’t that strong. Sombra’s father groans as he gets to his feet, and turns around slowly, murder in his eyes.

“Attackin’ while my back’s turn’d… ye’ll pay for that, creature,” he spits.

Is it just you, or… did his accent go from ‘gruff’ to ‘cowboy’? That’s… weird… Anyway, he readies his hammer. Looks like you’ve saved Sombra the trouble of getting his ribs broken... at the expense of yourself getting the same treatment.

[Armor Flak readies to beat you into submission.]

[50/50] [FIGHT] [RUN] [DO NOTHING] [FLIRT] [SPARE] [ITEM]

>>[FIGHT]

“Let’s go, child abuser,” you growl. For some reason, Armor Flak grins at that, and he launches his hammer at you, the screen showing the same thing aiming for your little ‘heart’. You dodge easily, only for him to pick it back up with his magic and pull it back towards him. Before he can, you firmly plant a foot on it as it’s dragging through the dirt, stopping it from returning to him as you pick it up and steal it. In retaliation, you charge at him, hammer aloft as you swing it at his face. He doesn’t appear to be expecting this, and his eyes widen in shock as the hammer slams into his right temple, somehow bouncing off his skull. His eyes circle around for a moment, and it looks like you’ve dazed him.

[Armor Flak is badly hurt.]

[50/50] [FIGHT] [RUN] [DO NOTHING] [FLIRT] [SPARE] [ITEM]

Um. Aren’t you supposed to be sparing others…? Some part of you argues. But it’s viciously clamped down upon and beaten to death by the rest of you. World-ending, sister-killing demons? Power-hungry, mad shapeshifting venomous insects? Fine by you. But you draw the line at child abuse. Your voice of reason points out that that’s kind of not how ‘drawing the line’ works, but you ignore it.

>>[FIGHT]

You continue to lay into Armor Flak. “This – is for – every time – you made him believe he was broken!” you roar and pant, as Armor doesn’t even defend himself. He staggers back, face looking more like a bruised cantaloupe than it used to. But, for some insane reason, he’s laughing… and his face is healing, black smoke pouring across it as the bruises disappear rapidly.

“You heroes. Too easy to manipulate,” he taunts, clearly already back to full strength. He backhoofs you easily, the blow connecting with your midriff and sending you flying backwards, landing in the forge amid a brief clatter of weapons and armor.

“Yer’ dealin’ with an umbrum, idjit. We feed on hatred, it makes us stronger. By all means, try and fight me!” he laughs. Armor slams both his front hooves into your torso, making you gasp with pain.

[Armor Flak is completely healed and ready to kill you.]

[4/50] [FIGHT] [RUN] [DO NOTHING] [FLIRT] [SPARE] [ITEM]

Okay, so you just got played. Hard. You could try feeling love instead of hate, but you don’t think that’s how it works. So… what now? You need a way to defeat this guy. And, suddenly, an idea occurs to you.

>>[RUN]

You sprint over to Sombra, kneeling down to face him. “Sombra. This is a memory, this isn’t real. Wake up!” you command. He looks at you, shaking his head in shock, and you’re casually knocked to the side by Armor Flak, whose eyes land on Sombra again.

“Sombra! Ah almost forgot about ye, what with that foalish creature tryin’ ta attack me! Now, where were we…?” he pauses for a moment, grinning down at the terrified colt.

Sombra scrunched up his face, whispering under his breath. “Just a memory. Just a memory. Just a memory…” he repeats, the terrified mantra doing little more than amusing Armor Flak.

“Oh, ah’m more than a memory, little Somby. I’m with you forever. You’ll never be rid of me, even if you kill me,” he jeers, lowering his head down so that his face is inches away from his son’s. “You’ll always be what I made you into,” Armor softly, gleefully whispers. “Always my little dictator… just like I wanted.”

Sombra’s eyes widen in horror, before he grunts and scrunches up his face. “You’re… not… REAL!” he roars, sounding like his old self as a shockwave blasts out from him and knocks Armor Flak backwards. He stumbles towards the forge, towards where a convenient spear is sticking out at just the right angle. Armor looks in shock at the spearpoint protruding from his chest, and he gasps for a moment, eyes as wide as they can go. Blood trickles out of his mouth as he grins at Sombra, who shudders and cries out as he sees what he’s done.

“Murderer…” Armor groans, smiling deliriously at his son. “Murderer…” And with that, Armor Flak vanishes, disappearing from existence. You pick yourself up, grunting with effort. You’re pretty badly damaged, but this is just a memory, so the real you is fine… right? You probably should’ve asked Nightmare Moon if it was possible to die in a memory before you jumped into this one.

You glance over at Sombra, and are somewhat surprised to find that he’s back to his former age. You approach him, only to find him sneering at you.

“Well done, creature. You couldn’t even best my father in combat, you had to rely on me to help you. I can see why Nightmare and that insect like you so much – you’re like a weak child, a foal they can protect and feel good about themselves,” he snorts.

You’re still getting your breath back, so it takes you a while to respond. “Still the dictator… huh…?” you pant, and his eyes widen in shock before narrowing into a very familiar glare. However, it seems Sombra is at a loss on what to say next, and after a while simply lays down on the ground, facing away from you.

Once you’ve recovered a bit, you check yourself over for injuries. To your surprise, you’re mostly fine, despite nearly dying earlier. Memories are strange… You move over to take a seat by Sombra, who’s staring up at the sky.

“Shouldn’t we be… getting out of here? Now that the memory’s been defeated?” you ask him.

Sombra sighs, a long-suffering, drawn-out growl. “You simpleton,” he gets out between clenched teeth. “This is a diamond. Enchantments on diamonds never break, no matter what… and I fell for it. We’re never getting out of here.” He rolls over to face away from you again, and the sky above looks just a little bit more gray.

What feels like hours have passed. Sombra’s still laying there, dead to the world, and you’re kind of bored of staring at the cloudy sky at this point. You get to your feet, working out the ache in your back as you look around the clearing again. You head towards the forge, looking for something to do.

Broken swords and ash are strewn about the floor of the forge, and the fires that were once roaring from the crystalline forge pit have almost completely died. A crank-operated metal fan encased in crystal housing is attached to the side of the pit, and you give this an experimental push. The fan begins to blow, and the embers in the pit glow just a touch brighter. This gives you an idea to relieve your boredom, and you go about gathering fresh coals to put on top of the old ones. That done, you begin turning the crank with enthusiasm, trying to restart the fire… only to find a cloud of pale yellow smoke wafting from the coals and suffocating you. Coughing and retching, you escape the cloud, only to find the wind has changed direction and you are now once again engulfed in it. Desperate to escape the sulfurous cloud of death, you return to the fan and feverishly crank it, the roar of the fanblades causing some coals to shoot up from the pit and onto the floor again. Finally, there’s a whoosh of flames, and the whole cloud ignites in a split-second fireball before quickly dying down, the coals now lit and dancing merrily with orange-yellow flames.

“So you can light a forge,” Sombra notes, and you turn around to find him watching, something like interest briefly flickering across his tired expression.

“A memory forge, at least,” you agree, watching the fire.

“What else can you do?” Sombra asks, looking around at the tools and materials haphazardly stacked and strewn about the place.

You shrug. “Not much. According to Nightmare and Chrysalis, I’m an amnesiac who’s partially immune to magic.”

Sombra raises an eyebrow, moving towards the section of the forge where the most metal is stacked and seemingly pulling off a piece at random, moving around the forge with a practiced but bored air. “Immune? How so?” he asks, half-curiously and half with clear intent.

“Not in a way you can control,” you flatly deny, immediately catching on. “It’s just… some stuff works, and some stuff doesn’t. Magical attacks don’t seem to work on me, but memory spells do. I don’t really know why.” You pick up a hammer with a rounded tip, inspecting it. Something about this seems familiar to you…

Sombra unceremoniously sticks the end of the metal rod he’s selected deep into the glowing orange coals. “So, you’re stuck in here with me. Forever. I suppose it’ll keep me from going insane for a bit longer, so at least you’re good for something,” Sombra snorts.

“I dunno… maybe I can break out of this memory spell? A friend and I broke out of one earlier,” you muse, ignoring his insults.

“Again. It’s diamond. What’re you going to do, hit the ground with a stick until you break out of this memory?” Sombra taunts, perching on an anvil.

“You got a better idea?” you retort, and Sombra glares at you.

“Sure. Stay in this place until I go insane, and then commit suicide,” he growls back.

You raise your eyebrows at him incredulously. “That’s your plan? It’s even worse than mine!” you argue, and Sombra rolls his eyes.

“Hardly. I can’t escape this blasted memoryscape alive, so I might as well escape it dead,” he mutters, pulling out the piece of metal and snatching the hammer out of your hands before delivering a few well-targeted blows to the piece of metal, which dents as easily as though it were made of cardboard. You watch him for a moment, completely at a loss as to what to do. You may have screwed yourself over this time, if what Sombra said is right.

Then again… ‘defeating’ the memory might not be as straightforward as you think. Chrysalis was only able to fight back against Cocoonus because she had a happy memory to focus on – that of your friendship. So what if you found a happy memory of Sombra’s? Maybe then, he could override this diamond’s spell… somehow. You get to your feet and head out, Sombra hardly even noticing you leave. You make for the muddy pathway off to the left, wondering where it leads. If it even leads anywhere.

After a short journey, you come to a four-way fork in the road. You could head straight ahead, right, or left. After a moment of deliberation, you decide to head right, as you can hear something rustling from that direction.

The rustling is revealed to be water, a babbling creek that is as smooth as glass even as it rushes past you. It cuts neatly through the fields of wheat, the dirt under your feet giving way to mud as you approach. You’re surprised to find a small ‘bank’ appears to have been created, rocks stacked up to divert the river and reveal part of the riverbed, which has been dug up in some places. A metal bucket and crystalline shovel are lying on the bank, and the bucket is full of what appears to be gold nuggets. You pick one up, noting how heavy it is. Is gold really that common? That seems… wrong. You put the nugget back – somehow, you don’t think this would make Sombra happy. Diverting this river and hunting for gold probably took a lot of work, and at his age, he probably wasn’t too fond of working. You’ll have to find something else.

You return to the fork in the road, and decide to go to the left this time. It’s a much longer road, and you take a moment to reflect on Sombra himself. He’s… complicated. It’s pretty clear that he was abused by his dad, but… he’s also a dictator, apparently? But Nightmare Moon wanted you to save him, so there must be something good in him. You can still hear him in the background, hammering away at that piece of metal.

At the end of this road, you come across a house. It’s made of wood, which strikes you as strange because there clearly aren’t any trees for miles around. How was this house built? You walk up to it, noting its run-down, ramshackle appearance. A window in the front has been smashed in, and one of the steps up to the porch has fallen in. The door squeaks when you open it, and you can hear a pause in Sombra’s relentless hammering. As you slip past, you notice the words ‘The FLAK Family’ chiseled into the front in block letters.

The home was cozy, if cramped. The kitchen in the corner had pots and pans stacked haphazardly on a counter, and the stove looked to be coal-powered, an odd choice considering the awful fumes and smoke you noticed earlier when trying to light coal. There was an additional fireplace on one wall, with a few rugs in front of it and several logs stacked neatly on one side. Finally, there was a short hallway just beyond the kitchen that looked like it lead to a few bedrooms, and you decided to explore this after a moment more of looking around at Sombra’s childhood home.

It wasn’t hard to find Sombra’s room, as it had his name scribbled on it in childish block letters. You gently push the door open, but before you can glimpse what’s inside, you’re startled by a roar of outrage from just behind you.

“HEY!” Sombra yells, pushing past you and slamming the door closed. “Don’t you know not to snoop around in other ponies’ houses?” he snarls, practically headbutting you back into the kitchen.

“S-sorry, I just… I was just thinking about a way to get out of here,” you quickly explain.

For some reason, this makes Sombra incensed. “How many times do I have to tell you?! There IS NO WAY OUT!” he howls, as he picks you up and hurls you out the door.

As you go flying, you manage to flip yourself upright and land without breaking anything, slamming into the ground in a kneeling position. Sombra’s barreling towards you, hate and fury in his eyes. You dodge at the last second, but he turns around and prepares for another attack.

[King Sombra attacks!]

[50/50] [FIGHT] [RUN] [DO NOTHING] [FLIRT] [SPARE] [ITEM]

>>[SPARE]

“Wait! Look, I’m sorry I looked in your house! I thought I was on to something, I’ve escaped this spell before!” you protest, holding up your hands in surrender.

Sombra growls incoherently, and his horn lights up purple as smoke of the same color surges from his eyes. The ground beneath you begins to shake, and you can see the dirt slowly turning transparent purple as black crystals start to sprout up from the ground. You get the distinct feeling you shouldn’t touch them, as they’re also appearing on this strange screen in front of you, so you dodge as best you can. You brush against one, and immediately feel a surge of burning rage within your chest. But this time, you’re wary. Your fight with Armor Flak is still fresh enough in your mind to make you remember the consequences of letting your emotions run away with you. So, you still don’t fight back, simply dodging and ignoring your urge to punch Sombra in his stupid face.

[King Sombra attacks!]

[46/50] [FIGHT] [RUN] [DO NOTHING] [FLIRT] [SPARE] [ITEM]

>>[SPARE]

“I’m serious! Are you going to throw away your only chance at escape just because you don’t even want to try?!” you urge him.

Sombra ignores you, his horn lighting up again as several spears and swords from the forge behind you zoom forth with deadly intent. You sidestep them easily enough, but he twirls them around and sends them at you for another pass, focused only on spearing you through the midriff. One grazes your stomach, and you grunt in pain. This isn’t working, and Sombra’s being smart about this – he’s using stuff that technically isn’t magical to hurt you with. You need a new strategy.

[King Sombra attacks!]

[34/50] [FIGHT] [RUN] [DO NOTHING] [FLIRT] [SPARE] [ITEM]

Okay, what do you know about Sombra? He’s a King, first and foremost, and has something to do with shadow and crystals, like how Nightmare Moon’s attacks were moon- and star-themed. Nightmare Moon was apparently a Princess, but even she doesn’t wear as much armor as this guy, which makes you think he’s more military-oriented than she was. And he did comment about how you were weak for relying on his help and not defeating Armor Flak physically.

…This goes against everything you stand for. But… if you can just get him low enough… This is a memory, right? He should be fine.

...Right?

>>[FIGHT]

You catch him off guard by rushing him and delivering an uppercut to his jaw, before spinning around with your leg out to sweep him off his hooves and send him sprawling to the ground. As you do this, you’re extremely careful not to feel anything – no rage, no hatred. A crystal pokes you in the shoe, and your vision briefly goes red before you fight down the broiling anger within you. Once you have yourself under control again, you resume attacking, and Sombra briefly gives you a look of surprise.

[King Sombra attacks!]

[30/50] [FIGHT] [RUN] [DO NOTHING] [FLIRT] [SPARE] [ITEM]

>>[FIGHT]

The trouble with this strategy is, you’ve no idea how many hits he can take. You’re fairly certain you can’t actually punch him to death, but you could seriously injure him if you’re not careful. You land another right hook on his face, and he stumbles back, grunting with pain as he holds a hoof to his eye. You’re sorely tempted to ask if he’s okay, but… you’re trying to impress him here, not mollycoddle him. He retaliates after a moment’s delay with another sword, but it’s a halfhearted swing at best.

[Sombra is getting tired.]

[30/50] [FIGHT] [RUN] [DO NOTHING] [FLIRT] [SPARE] [ITEM]

>>[FIGHT]

You rush forward again and swing your right fist forward, only for him to stop it with a hoof, straining against your force as you add your left to grapple him. He tries to swing his head forward to stab you with his horn, but his neck isn’t quite long enough.

“You’ll never win, creature,” he spits. “I am a King, and you are a lowly peasant who doesn’t even deserve to fight me!”

You don’t react to this, carefully keeping your emotions in check, and after a moment you swing all your weight to the right, throwing him off balance and sending him stumbling. You follow this up with a quick kick to the chest, Sombra sprawling onto his back before you plant a shoe on his neck. Sombra attempts to struggle, but you increase the weight, and he begins to choke, frantically straining against the weight of your foot on his lungs. If you really wanted to hurt him… now would be the time.

[Finish this.]

[30/50] [FIGHT] [RUN] [DO NOTHING] [FLIRT] [SPARE] [ITEM]

>>[SPARE]

You remove your foot from his chest, and he sucks in a desperate gasp of air, coughing and retching. You feel a stab of guilt seeing him in such pain, and hope fervently that you made the right choice. You’ve never had to hurt someone before… what if he’ll have trouble breathing after this? What if you’ve just made him hate you more? But before you can continue your quickly panicking train of thought, you’re interrupted by the sound of Sombra… sniffling.

Oh… oh no, he’s crying. Oh dear. You’d better do something.

You kneel down beside him. He doesn’t appear to be faking it to catch you off guard, and after a moment you notice he’s still having trouble breathing, only now it’s because he’s half-coughing and half-wailing. Without hesitating, you hug him tightly around his midsection.

“Breathe,” you order, and to your surprise, he obeys, drawing in a great long gasp of breath before letting it out again in a rattling sigh of despair.

“Again,” you order. “Slower.”

He scrunches his eyes shut, but complies, and after a few more repetitions, he’s calmed down quite a bit. You stop hugging him, and stare at the floor.

“…I was trying to impress you by showing you I wasn’t weak. I thought… I thought maybe then you’d listen to my idea,” you admit softly, looking away from him.

Sombra’s silent for a while, looking down at the ground just like you. “You’re an idiot,” he states after a moment, but the bark in his tone has gone, replaced with a weary sadness. “But… I suppose I have nothing else to do. What’s this idea, that you’re so sure of?” he asks tiredly.

“I got trapped in a memory with Chrysalis. We only escaped because I convinced her to remember something positive instead of what the memory was trying to make her feel, and she became powerful enough to override the spell,” you explain.

Sombra snorts. “Not much positivity in my life, I’m afraid,” he murmurs. You remember Armor Flak, and fall silent again.

“…Well…” Sombra sighs after a moment, looking at you shiftily. “There was one thing. It was… positive, sometimes. I think. I… I’m not sure I even know what that kind of feeling is.”

You smile at him encouragingly. “Go on,” you enthuse.

“I… well, I suppose I’d better show you. If we’re going to be stuck here for eternity, we might as well try it," Sombra grumbles.

To your surprise, he leads you back into the house, towards the very room he’d quite literally thrown you out of. “Take off your shoes,” he snaps as you walk in the door, before pulling up short and giving you a thoughtful frown. “Actually… don’t. That was something my father would say, and…” he trails off, before continuing towards his room without a word, roughly pushing the door open.

You find him sitting in the middle of a sparse bedroom. There were no toys, no games, no books, nothing. Just a bed, a nightstand, and what looked like an old, faded journal. You start towards the journal, but Sombra scoffs.

“No point reading that. My father made me keep it. It eventually became more of a logbook for his orders than any personal thoughts of mine.”

Curious, you open a random page. Winter, Day Forty-Four. Purchased two kilograms of low-carbon steel from market. One piece was rusty, you read. So much for your hope of a personal diary of happy memories.

You put the journal back, and notice Sombra digging through a small closet opposite the bed, pushing past what appeared to be miniature suits of armor before pulling out the strangest contraption you’ve ever seen.

It looks like… a tiny piano and a violin fused into a single instrument. The strings are laid out along the top, and the sixteen keys are arranged beneath, though there aren't any of those little black keys in between the others like on a regular piano. Sombra looks up at you, awaiting your reaction.

“What is it?” you ask curiously.

“It’s… well, I don’t have a name for it yet. I had it custom-made because… it sounds… good,” Sombra falteringly explains, seemingly nervous for some reason.

“Oh! It plays music?” you ask eagerly.

He looks at you in surprise. “Mew-sick?” he repeats, sounding unfamiliar with the term.

“Yeah! I don’t remember much, but I’m pretty sure music’s a popular thing,” you happily inform him.

Sombra looks at you in openmouthed surprise. “…Oh. Well… I don’t think I’ve ever heard anything else quite like this, so… maybe it’s ‘music’? I don’t know,” Sombra admits.

“Play it!” you beg him, but he looks away.

“I… I… what if you hate it?” he worries.

“Sombra, it took magical compulsion to even make me angry today,” you scoff. “Now play it!... Please?” you add after a moment’s pause, giving him a hopeful expression.

Sombra swallows, clearly feeling pressured.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you quietly note, seeing his trepidation and feeling guilty for trying to push him. “I just want to make you happy. We can wait as long as you need.”

Sombra stares at you in quiet wonder, before lighting his horn. The journal you read earlier flips open and scrolls to the back, pages flipping past each other before two tiny sheets are ripped from the very back of the journal. You glance at them as Sombra floats them over, and are surprised to see what looks like sheet music. How does he know to write sheet music, if he’s never heard music before…? Sombra looks over the sheets, muttering to himself, but you’re still too confused to pay much attention.

Your train of thought is promptly interrupted and crashes as Sombra begins to play.

It’s beautiful. You can’t really say you’re one to appreciate an orchestra, but Sombra’s instrument holds such a quiet power over you that it evokes emotion far more effectively than his crystals ever did. The tune is haunting, a sad yet beautiful melody that speaks of loneliness, of wandering, of keeping your sadness locked away from the world. You don’t know how you know these things, but somehow you know that Sombra has put himself into this song – everything about who he is, and what he’s had to do to survive, expressed by such a simple machine. Tears run down your face, and you bow your head almost reverently as the last note trails off somberly. Sombra looks at you expectantly, and is apparently shocked to find you crying.

“Was it… really that bad?” he quietly asks.

“No, no! It was… it was… beautiful. Like… I don’t know how to describe it, but it was so sad and yet so pretty…” you ramble, unable to accurately convey your thoughts regarding the piece.

Sombra, taken aback by such praise, gives you a hesitant smile. “So… you liked it,” he clarifies hopefully, and you nod fervently.

“It was the best thing I’ve heard in a long time,” you truthfully declare, and he grins.

“And you’re not just saying that to please me?” he asks once more, and you shake your head as vigorously as you were just nodding.

“Sombra,” you say in as serious a tone as you can muster, “I swear I am not lying to you when I say that your song is beautiful. It deserves to be heard by the entire world…”

Sombra actually blushes at that, a normal red tone compared to Chrysalis’ vivid green or Nightmare’s neon blue. “O… oh… er… well… thank you, I suppose,” he stammers.

“…Why are you so embarrassed? Did others not like it?” you ask shrewdly.

Sombra stammers for a moment more, then sighs, shoulders slumping. “Dad… thought it was ‘a waste of time.’ He said it was only a passing fad, that I was investing in something that wouldn’t benefit me in the end,” he grumbles.

You scoot around the instrument and bring him into another hug, surprising him. “He was wrong. You know he was wrong. He was wrong about everything about you. You can be so much more than what he wanted to make you into, Sombra…” you encourage.

Sombra shivers in your embrace, and you half expect him to squirm away or try to hit you again. But he doesn’t. “I… I dunno… I dunno if I can… I can never forget anything he's done to me...” he admits fearfully.

“Don’t worry... You won’t be going it alone, not ever again. Whatever happens, you’ll always have me by your side… and I promise not to be overbearing about it,” you add after a brief pause. Sombra smiles at that, a genuine smile. "And... you don't have to forget. But if you want to move past him, if you want to become something else... then it would probably be a good idea to forgive," you suggest.

"Forgive him?" Sombra asks, a bit of his old growl coming back into his tone.

"No," you deny firmly. "Forgive yourself."

Sombra looks up at you, and something changes again in his face, some indescribably small and gentle relaxation that changes his whole expression.

And the two of you open your eyes again.

Author's Note:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CB3NTeaqtBI&feature=youtu.be

Comments

[Razzy]

Face full of wing!

Crrrrrrrrystals~!

Dunno why, but now I wanna see Sombra dressed in traditional bavarian attire, lederhosen and all.

'Chrysalis quips. F

or once' - suddenly line break.

'magicalcompulsion' - magical compulsion

[HoneyBadgerr]

camo.derpicdn.net/08d6e22019c4dc3030af11f81665ece57c5227bd?url=http%3A%2F%2Fi.imgur.com%2FDgRtwJQ.gif

[awesomesauce4]

8693560
...And this is why I shouldn't post chapters at 2 A.M. Thanks for catching those!

[Adjier]

8693746
Oh that is delightful. Made me giggle, too

Noice. +1 friend

Now we just need a power hungry centaur.