Blood Moon

by The_Darker_Fonts

Interjection 8: The Bastard

So this was what the verge of victory felt like? The apotheosis of years of planning, the joy of death, and the irony of fate all culminating into a twist in the tale of the Princesses. It was so… gratifying. If Sombra had bothered to bring any number of his slaves, he would have been sure to share the emotion. But alas, he managed discipline when the battlefield called his name. Besides, if he was lucky, there’d be new conquests to be had by the end of the week, and the celebration of the death of the Princesses would surely be much more gratifying than the promise of success.

He stood at the head of his army, leading them as they made their way through the Oppotimare Valley. The fools who had joined him had cleared the way for his troops to pass through the imposing mountains and strike straight at Canterlot itself. Now, with the path to victory so certain and the Princesses preoccupied with Trinity’s army, Equestria was finally his and everything he had sacrificed to get here would be worth it. The northern mountains in their face, the pass to Canterlot open for their exploiting, fate was paying him its dues.

“The Crystal Empire expands today,” he shouted, enhancing his voice as he turned to face his army. Thirty thousand soldiers, armed with the finest weaponry and under his control totally with the crystalline helmets. “Equestria, the blight on the land that is rightfully ours, will fall, and with it the age of Princesses. A new age begins, an age of success and domination, in which only one lord shall rule over you. An Everlasting King, a God you will worship for the life given to you. The cold will no longer sting our cities and the common pony will be ground to dust. Their corpses will fertilize the land and bring about an abundance never before seen in all the world! For the Empire, and for your God!”

There was a cheer from the army that rumbled from the mountains in the south to the mountains in the north, and even if it was forced, Sombra felt empowered. Today was his, and tonight would see, with finality, the death of the disgusting magic of Equestria. They may have named him the Bastard Prince, but it was their twisted, new concepts that were the true bastardizations of life. The right of rule was his by might alone, by what he had given up to become greatness. Crystal would finally be atoned and the wars and bloodshed would finally be over… mostly.

Out there, somewhere in Equestria, was his lost slave and their child. He would have to seek them out once there was no danger of it interrupting his war, but as soon as it was over, he would find them. If he was lucky, they’d be in Canterlot. If he was blessed, they weren’t, and he could make a demonstration of those who opposed the new regime. Fate seemed to be on his side, regardless.

“Forward march,” he commanded, whipping around and forcing the wings to protrude from his back. He smiled through the pain, the price of becoming more than any mortal pony could. Letting a growl escape his mouth, he soared into the air, aimed right at the sun.

Let it try to burn him! He was no vampyre, no weak ompyre or mangy werewolf. Their blood and bones had been the elixir of this magnificent power, and the soul of a mordigan the binding magic to purify all their weaknesses to create him: the perfect monster. While all other nocturnals were shunned from the surface, he would dominate it. When they shrieked and flailed in the light of the sun, he sneered and soaked up its warmth. The ponies around him, the plants on the ground, and the mountains on either side of him would all vanish before he died. He was unstoppable, and tonight, he would prove such.

Suddenly, in the distance, he spotted a figure racing between the clouds. Slowing his flight, Sombra waited patiently for the dark form to approach him, watching it with intensity. The only pony it could be was Trinity, given the spell of darkness that shielded him from the burning sun was specially crafted by Sombra and taught solely to the younger vampyre. There was no rush, given the army was a sluggish beast, and there was really no good in racing too far ahead of it. The northern pass they were moving for was distinctive and uncontested, so he wasn’t even necessary for guiding them to their objective.

In the distant west, he saw the last traces of the burnt city of Grandshire, smiling to himself. Those fools had really just followed his orders as if they weren’t turning against the very ponies who had fed them. Whatever, it was the smartest thing they could do now. Prove themselves worthy to live in his new world, show their loyalty and how useful they were. Honestly, they could have the whole valley. The Oppotimare was only one of the many rich agricultural regions of Equestria. The cruel irony of the very soldiers who turned against the ponies of the valley earning it as their reward was almost too perfect.

“My great lord,” Trinity suddenly said, the black cloud having snuck up on Sombra during his contemplations. Giving the shifting mist a sideways glance, the stallion requested, “Might we find shade. It took much of my might to keep this summoned for so long.”

“So, you did fight them till the sun rose,” Sombra surmised, satisfied.

“No, lord, my predictions were correct,” the vampyre replied, a hint of both amusement and disappointment in his voice.

“Oh, is that right,” Sombra growled angrily, glancing over the mountains to the north. Damn those royals. Beginning to descend, he grumbled, “Very well, tell me what happened.”

“It was exactly as I said, sire,” Trinity continued on, the strange twists of emotion in his voice keeping Sombra from guessing his true feelings. “The Princess of the Moon engaged me head on, and when I formed a line to hold against Celestia from the south, she flew around the other end and hit us herself. I managed to draw out the battle by engaging Luna herself, and by the moon did I mess with her head.”

The stallion broke off into a strange fit of chuckles and words that didn’t sound quite like words as they landed in the shade of a hill. Trinity evaporated the spell as soon as his hooves touched the ground, revealing his uncanny smile and twisted eyes as he gleefully informed Sombra, “I made her cry for her husband. You’d think after three years, such insults and reminders would be less effective, but nope, she’s still an emotional wreck.”

“The battle, Trinity,” Sombra demanded, unamused.

“Oh, we were crushed in hours, barely by midnight,” the vampyre casually declared. “We dealt a good chunk of damage, but they overwhelmed us too quickly to cripple them. They’ll have to spend a few days encamped where they are to repair and resupply, and by that point Canterlot will be yours.”

“Indeed,” Sombra agreed with a pleased smile. “Trinity, your twisted mind amuses me to no end. If you’re hungry, there are a few whores traveling alongside the army. Take no more than half of them, but I do not care who, why, or what.”

“The offer is kind, my liege, but I had my fill,” the stallion meekly answered, a sinister pleasure in his voice. Standing up straight and squinting at the blue sky, the vampyre asked, “If we get there by night, what shall we do? Do you expect to battle any army with an exhausted force and come out victorious?”

“While our soldiers may be exhausted, Trinity, I will not be,” Sombra confidently told his protegee. “Any army we face on the leeward side of the mountains will be surprised and afraid. Simple demonstration of my cruelty should be enough to turn them to us, or at least insight infighting as a distraction for our force to slip in. The Princesses are clueless. If one of them happens to be there, for some strange twist of fate, then we’ll surely kill them. Such a blow alone would topple their weak kingdom!”

“Pray it’s Luna we come across then, and not Celestia,” Trinity warned, suddenly serious. Before Sombra could question it, the maniacal stallion began chuckling to himself, muttering softly, “Gods praying? The joke writes itself! No god does the praying and begging, they do the making, famining, and destroying! Pray to Sombra, fools. Pray to him that I don’t rip out your throats and feast on your little children.”

Used to the stallions incessant ramblings, and amused by its contents, the emperor let it be and took to the sky once more. Oh yes, by the end of the night, fate would be decided, Equestria would be his, and all would fear him.

Author's Note:

A short little look at what Sombra's doing. As always, questions, comments, and concerns welcome and wanted.