Quills and Sofas Anthology

by Scrying Mind

An Icy Grave

It’s not the frozen grave I’m afraid of; it’s the fact that I couldn’t save my friend. All Sombra has ever been to me is kind. Nopony else saw it, but I could... I knew there was still that lonely little colt somewhere deep inside. But I failed him, and now that colt might be gone forever.

Sisters, it’s cold. This tiny, dark cave has swallowed me among its damp, cold rocks. With little light and nothing to eat, all I can do is look outside and remember that it’s better than the blizzard that would take me if I tried to leave. I’ve already cast over a dozen healing spells to ward off frostbite, but I don’t know how many more I have in me. I’m so, so tired.

I was so happy to help him find the pieces of Princess Amore. I thought that maybe when we brought her back, my dear, sweet Sombra would be back—fully back—too. It was the first thing he ever did wrong; maybe it would be the last thing he’d need to fix before he could heal. We found a good number of the shards scattered across the hospitable areas of the empire, but we couldn’t find all of them. Sombra wanted to protect me, but I could see the truth the whole time. He’s always been bad at hiding things from me. I saw the pain and strife on his face every time he tried to locate the next shard, and he eventually couldn’t avoid it anymore.

“Hope, I think... I think we have to go north.”

The umbrum have connections to the crystals they make, so I knew he wasn’t wrong. And it’s not like I was surprised. So we took our adventure north, into the most frozen, frigid reaches of the Arctic North. Our supplies lasted just as we expected them to, and everything went according to plan for a while. Until about two months into our expedition. We had been traveling for five days, and we were talking, laughing, and dreaming about what we’d do once this was over. I could see the gleam of hope back in those wide green eyes. ‘Hope’. That’s me, isn’t it? A hollow, broken promise of a future that will never come to pass.

The next stop on our trail was a small town called Frozen Falls, where I was supposed to resupply before returning to Sombra and continuing to where we believed the last shard lay. But when I got into town, all the doors were closed and all the lights were off. Nailed to the door of the town hall was a note:

To the Tyrant and the Crystal Traitor,

If you’re reading this, you’ve decided to target our town next. We refuse to be swindled into helping a monster or the mare who helped him return. We have returned to the main city with all of our equipment, and we doubt we’ll see you there.

Good luck.

I was mortified. Upon my return, Sombra saw my empty saddlebags and immediately knew what had happened. I hadn’t seen his face contorted with such rage since Twilight struck me down and he released the umbrum. He stomped and swore, promising to do unspeakable things for me.

I told him to stop. He didn’t listen. I suggested we find that last shard of Amore, and he finally turned to look at me. If we revived Amore, perhaps she could help. Perhaps finishing our quest would be the thing that saved our lives.

If you have ever thought you’ve seen the most reckless travelers out there, you were wrong. We were fast; we were careless. We had no supplies to spare, and we knew that. We knew that our biggest enemy was time.

We thought that our biggest enemy was time. But our biggest enemies were cold and hunger.

We were making our way along a narrow path cut into the side of a cliff. I couldn’t feel my legs; I couldn’t walk straight. I could barely see. Then, with one unlucky hooffall, I lost my balance. I fell. The last thing I saw of Sombra was a face full of confusion, sadness, and anger.

I didn’t die on impact. Did it matter? I crawled away to this cave, and here I am. I’m cold, hungry, and tired. I'm so very tired.

I think I’m going to sleep.

Author's Note:

Tied for first place in the Quills and Sofas panic contest on 12/14/2022.

The prompt for this story was "Super-Duper Cold".