• Published 7th Dec 2012
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The Life and Times of Love and Harmony - TheManWithTwoNames



Philomena and Princess Cadence ruin everything wherever they go.

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The Fall of the Crystal Empire

Rock Polish did not have an easy job. Every day, before Celestia’s sun rose, he kissed his sleeping wife on the forehead and set out through the arctic tundra surrounding the Crystal Empire with a crew of other stallions. After fighting through the bitter cold and howling winds for miles, he would finally reach his destination: the diamond mines. Rock would seize his pick axe and spend the next eleven hours striking the walls of the mine, nearly shattering his few remaining real teeth each time. The only light that was provided came from the sun stones, hung from the roof of the tunnel every fifty paces. Once in a while, he would find a diamond glittering among the black, wet stones. Fighting the stiffness in his neck, he’d lean down, pick up the rock with his sore teeth, carry it to a cart, and then return to work. When the whistle blew, it was time to go home. If it was a good day, everyone who entered the mine walked back out. And if heaven smiled on them, everyone who marched through the snow made it home.

These precious stones were instrumental to the empire, as the tough gems were perfect for cutting the crystals that bejeweled every inch of their lives. Without diamonds to cut the crystals, there could be no way to build houses. There would be no way to cull and crop the crystal trees and prevent them from spreading wild like weeds. It was a result of these unsung heroes’ efforts that the Crystal Empire could maintain its beauty.

But Rock Polish did not do it for a sense of duty to his empire. He did it so he could support his beloved wife. Coming home to her each night made it all worthwhile, and when he pressed his lips against hers, the ice that clung to his coat fell away in an instant.

It was those happy thoughts Rock Polish pressed close to his chest as he shut his front door behind him. His wife did not meet him in the doorway as usual, but it was nothing unheard of. If she wasn’t in the door, she was probably just putting the finishing touches on dinner. His stomach purred in excitement. A bowl of her soup would hit the spot right now.

“Sweetie, I’m home!” he called as he poked his head into the kitchen. His grin fell away. He couldn’t smell dinner cooking. This had never happened before. Could she be sick in bed? A low moan from the bedroom confirmed his suspicion. Quick as his tired body would let him, he rushed to be at his wife’s side.

His eyes were already used to the dark. He was instantly able to find his wife spread under the disheveled covers. But she was not alone.

Angry tears stung his eyes as he shouted in pain.

“How could you betray me like this?”

“Honey? No!” Pyrite Heart gasped and tried to cover her shame with the sheets, uncovering the perpetrator sharing the bed.

“P-princess Cadence?” Rock sputtered, his jaw nearly hitting the ground. “What are you doing with my wife?”

“I’m banging her,” Cadence explained simply, draping a hoof around her blushing partner.

Why?

“You weren’t doing it. Why, did you want a turn?” And when silence fell over the pair, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Get out of my house!” Rock Polish thundered.

“Alright, alright, geez!”

The princess of the Crystal Empire swiftly adjusted her tiara, stomped into her golden horseshoes, and left the house and the screaming couple behind.

“On to the next adventure!”

~~~

This was the usual scene in the Crystal Empire during the reign of Princess Mi Amore Cadenza L'amante Supremi Ed Il Bevitore Di Succo Di Gatto. Her sudden arrival and self-coronation had whipped the empire into such a slambang whirlwind of excitement and frayed nerves that I could practically taste it. It tasted like burnt mustard-glazed donuts.

Being the well-trained animals they are, none of the ponies were upset by the news of an alicorn seizing the throne. In their minds, they saw it as an upgrade over their old, wingless emperor. What had caused the turbulence were the flurries of decrees and demands their new leader churned out daily. Royal Decree 417 named the color pink the national bird. Royal Decree 29 called for a grand festival to be held monthly, or twice-monthly if it ever suited Her Highness’ mood. Every house was required to contain at least one pound of chocolate in the event of a surprise royal inspection. Every morning, each citizen was required to kiss a portrait of Her Sweetness and swear their loyalty. Finally, all communications with Canterlot were to be ceased, and that everything that transpired inside the Crystal Empire henceforth was to be “our little secret, m’kay?”

And the sheep actually followed along! How unfair is that? Brother Love can decorate everything in sight with hearts, but if I want to sink a city to the bottom of the sea I’m the bad guy. Being pretty must work like a get-out-of-stone-free card in this backwards country. Even Sister Harmony gave her something resembling a go-ahead. She just decided to just leave Love be, returning long ago to the safety of Celestia’s newspaper-lined cage. It could be that she accepted this horrible rule. More likely, Harmony was probably just trying to sweep her horrible mistake under the proverbial crystal rug.

The years rolled by and the Empire survived in more or less the same shape. There were no great catastrophes, no invasions by foreign armies, and no intrusions by unpleasable all-powerful family members. Nights were followed by days, and every sunrise heralded Princess Cadence’s morning ritual.

“Just talk to any of the servants, they’ll show you the way to the door,” Cadence instructed the stallion rolling out of her bed. He opened his mouth to speak, but a stiffness in his jaw forced him to silently massage his cheeks for a few seconds before he was able to talk again.

“Excuse my impertinence, Princess,” the stallion said, “But do you remember last night when you said you were going to make me your Advisor in Chief?”

Cadence shifted her shoulders and rolled to face the opposite direction. “Vaguely. Was that before or after the Tennessteer Twister?”

“I don’t recall. But you told me—”

“Oh, now I remember! It was during the Reverse Sea Pony.” Cadence smiled in accomplishment for a moment. Until she noticed the stallion still looking at her expectantly. “Though I think you misheard me, Juicy.”

“It’s Joust, actually. Your Highness.”

“Right you are. But if you remember, I said that I was going to consider you for the position. Don’t worry, I’ll call you in a few days.” She lifted her hoof and tutted at his crestfallen expression, silencing him before he could start to whine again. “Clinginess doesn’t reflect well on your evaluation, Juicy~”

“But I notice things ponies usually don’t notice!” He puffed out his chest. “I’ve got a very keen eye you see. Especially for grammar. Do you know how many spelling errors I find in the local newspapers and library books? Writers are incredibly grateful to receive every single correction I have to give!”

“I actually have an official speech writer. I think.” After a moment’s thought, “Maybe you should go sleep with him? You might be exactly his type!”

“But Princess, please!” Joust cried. “I have important, vital things you should be thinking about. Like. Like, um... You know Sombra?”

“Sadly, not,” Love said, “Guy’s got an invisible iron chastity belt on at all times. Hate those things...”

“Surprising anyone could resist you, my Princess.”

Love nodded vigorously. “I know!”

“But that wasn’t what I was talking about. My Princess,” Joust leaned in close, snout practically nuzzling Cadence’s. “Sombra may have been discreetly blocking certain news from getting to you. Have you noticed his... fits?”

"Oh tell me about it! He still has a tizzy every time I brainwash him."

"I mean his fits of... misbehavior."

“Is he the reason why I can’t see my reflection in the floor? Has he been soiling it?!”

Joust blinked first. “Princess, you have carpet.”

“Oh. Right. They keep telling me that, yet they never tell me exactly what ‘carpeting’ entails.”

“See, this is why you need somebody like me,” Joust said grandly. “I notice things like that. And Princess, from somebody who notices a lot of things, I think King Sombra may be evil!”

Love huffed, crossing her forelegs. "First off, he’s just Grand Vizier Sombra now. And second, just what would ever lead you to think a ruler’s shadowy vizier is evil? I made the judgment to give him that position. Are you saying that I have terrible judgment?”

“No! No! It’s just... He's been practicing black magic on your subjects!” Joust cried. Then, in a low voice. “A lot of subjects. That he’s been abducting off the streets."

"Well we certainly have a problem!” Love cried. Joust’s face brightened. “I never thought my empire of love would be so full of racists! Expert noticer or not, I'll be damned if I tolerate anypony who judges a pony by the color of his magic!"

“But my Princess,” the stallion sputtered, but Cadence was louder.

“Nope! Not hearing a word of your racist propaganda!”

“Princess Mi Amore!”

“Ap-bup-bup!”

“What does ‘black’ even mean in this context?!” Joust moaned.

“La la la la lalalala! I can’t hear you! Not being racist over here!”

Having said her piece, Princess Cadence rolled on her side and began to enshroud herself in a bedsheet cocoon. Across realities, men of all walks of life have been baffled by the female gender’s fascination with constructing these linen chrysalides. Experts of neural behavioral sciences have wasted countless years and millions in research funding in a fruitless effort to crack the secret. Many sweaty-palmed lepidopterists have offered the theory that women enter these shells for the same reason as the mighty monarch butterfly: to enter a state of hibernation and emerge as a creature more beautiful than ever before, sailing on the summer breeze in their fragile dance of life and light (It is common knowledge that no lepidopterist has ever seen a real girl). When asked directly, all women will offer the same giggle and diplomatically pass it off as “just a girl thing.”

As a certified expert on all things nonsensical, temperamental, random, and treacherous, I consider myself qualified to untangle the great gnarled knot that is the female mind. And after seconds of intense contemplation, I am confident in my conclusion: The linen cocoon exists as a defensive mechanism and a demonstration of authority over any conversation. Once the female submits what she desires to be the final word on a matter, she constructs her barrier to deafen her against any subsequent counter-arguments, making her the victor.

With no countermeasure against the impenetrable defense of silk and cotton, the defeated stallion resigned himself to his fate of being a one-night stand. He embarked on the walk of shame back to his home, where he would proceed to exaggerate and brag about his experience to uninterested friends for months to come. Cadence, on the other hand, had forgotten everything about the pony the instant he set foot outside of her room. Shifting and snuggling inside of her blankets, she dunk deeper into her shelter.

She loved her bed. That bed was the best thing about being a princess. Heck, that bed was the best thing about having a body. Everything that happened outside of it was considerably less fun. It was all “delegation” this and “keeping the peace of the empire” that and “get out of bed and do the job you stole from me, you usurping cow.”

That one was always the worst purely because she had to hear it every day from her least favorite pony in the world. Some ponies just can’t let go of a grudge.

“You have appointments,” Sombra announced dourly as he marched toward the unresponsive bundle on the bed. “Get up.”

From deep within the fathomless recesses of the blanket dimension, a long and muffled groan of defiance rang out.

“Nuhhhhhhhhggggmmmmpppphhhhhbt.”

“Even figurehead leaders have to make public appearances.” Like a joyless reflex developed over years of habit forming, the former King Sombra ignited his horn and tugged against a loose sheet corner. His magic was overpowered and dissipated by a light blue glow which quickly tucked the vulnerable point somewhere back inside the bundle. “Get up.”

“Make me, blank flank.”

During the golden era of the Crystal Empire, any pony who was stupid enough to mock the king’s lack of a cutie mark often found their lives became less pleasant and drastically shortened. And bear in mind, this was before Sombra went due south to cuckoo-clock town. He had taken to wearing a suit of armor and cape to protect his secret shame from undue gossip, and for the most part, the issue disappeared.

That is, at least until one day when Cadence decided to hockey punch the unicorn and noticed a distinct lack of posterior decoration. Since then, “blank flank” became her most favorite nickname for her least favorite servant.

Sombra inhaled an offended breath. “I demand you get out of bed and at least pretend to do the job you stole from me, you sour old biddy!”

“Your insults are a bit weak today, blanky!”

“Oh? Are they?” Sombra hissed. “Well sorry for disappointing you! Is this better, you bubble-bottomed witch?!”

With a strangled roar, Sombra charged at the blanket cocoon. Horn lowered, he hoped this time he would be lucky enough to make something bleed. He ran his tongue along his teeth at the thought, and lunged like a mad beast. Over and over again, his sickle of a horn tore through the delicate sheets, and within seconds he was thrashing, kicking, and snarling through the tangled shell to find the helpless prize within.

Tattered sheets clung to him like cobwebs, and with the lightest flicks of blue, they tangled around his hooves and bound his legs. It wasn’t long into his frenzy when he collapsed, the silken bindings too tight to even move.

“Isn’t it funny, Sombra?” Love cooed into his ear, wrapping her hooves around his swaddled body. “Despite everything we say and do to each other, we always wind up in bed together.”

“Let me out this instant!” Sombra thundered as he struggled against his bindings. He didn’t know what was worse. The fact that his nemesis had tricked him yet again, or what usually happened after said tricking. “Release me, usurper!”

“Nope. Not until you do that thing I like.” Cadence hummed as she playfully traced her hoof around her prisoner’s horn. She flicked his tip, rousing him into another failed escape attempt.

“Never! Your actions are selfish and, under a sane rule, entirely punishable!”

Love pouted. “How many times do I have to say it? It’s not sexual harassment if I can’t get a boner! Learn the law, Sombra!” There was nothing for it. Despite all the hate-flirting and fight-cuddling, the big grouch wasn’t going to play along today. “Oh fine. If you’re going to be that way.”

Sombra screwed his eyes shut as a love-bubble unloaded all of its enticing charms across his face. Love now pounded through his every pore, hammering in his head, rooting around and rewiring his brain.

Sombra collapsed, sheets unwinding from his fallen body. He struggled to stand.

“M-my Princess...” he wheezed, eyes popping red. “I... I l-l-love you...”

“Bah.” Cadence huffed. “Everybody says that! You’re no fun like this, blank flank!”

“A w-w-wonderful nickname...”

“Yep, I know that. Anyway, you got me up, so now you can go off and do... well, whatever it is that you usually do.”

“Yes, my can... candlelight... dancer?”

He wobbled to the door, steps awkward and overwide, like all four legs were numb. His head hung off his body, rolling limply back and forth. Twitching. A breath would hiss through his limp jaws, and a line of spit would splatter to the ground. Cadence couldn’t see his face, but she knew what he looked like when he was like this, always trying hard to blink over his red-popped eyes.

In the smallest, most blood-filled pocket of her mortal heart, the Princess of Love felt an itty bitty twinge of something foreign. A tiny bit of her insides curdled into a shape that, to an outsider, might have looked like sorrow. Or, quite possibly, something close to loss. To Cadence’s dismay, repeated love-scrubbings had completely broken her favorite toy’s brain.

Cadence pointedly blew aside a lock of her tousled mane.

“Okay, Sombra.”

The black stallion collapsed to the floor. Slowly, he craned his neck around, staring at Cadence.

“O-okay?” he mumbled.

“Is there anything I can do to, um... make you happier?”

Sombra sputtered a bit, spit dripping down his chin.

“Do you want me to get you, like, your own private harem?”

“P-please no. N-no no no.”

“So uh...” Cadence rolled her eyes. “I dunno, what do you stallions like? Beer? Nachos? Uh... I’m only coming up with food and mares here, Sombra, help me out.”

“I... I want...”

“Yes?”

“A-another... torture chamber.”

“Well alright then!” My brilliant he-she transgendered sibling happily clapped her hooves. “I’ll get to ordering that for you then. Now are we all set and square? You feel better now?”

“I... I will...” Sombra struggled to his feet once more. “Once... I... I tor-torture out.... this poison...”

“Go right ahead! You can lay around all day if you want, it’ll fix you right up!” Cadence gave her reflection a quick check in the mirror hanging over her bed. With a shake of her tail, she passed her struggling advisor and strode for the door. “But some of us have work to do. Ruling an empire is busy work. Not that you know!”

She exited her room feeling rather proud of herself. She hadn’t even had breakfast yet, and she had still managed to solve not one, but two royal problems! That was over double her normal workload, already solved!

“What a busy day so far!” she exclaimed. “I think I’ll celebrate by taking a nice long bath!”

~~~

Deep in the coldest and most secret of hidden dungeons, Sombra cradled a bucket between his legs. His aura worked a little pump, water splashing unevenly into the little container. The Old King slowly exhaled frosty winter’s breath, watching the bucket slosh and fill. Blinking, bleary, and eyes still a bloodshot red, he grit his teeth and shoved his head into the frigid water.

For just a moment, there was silence. A few bubbles appeared, dark ‘bloops’ echoing around the underground chamber. But it wasn’t long before the dark unicorn rose in a gasp, struggling to catch his breath.

“I... I don’t much care for the color pink, my sweet... sw-sweet...”

He blinked again and again and again, trying to close his swollen eyes. With another deep breath, he dove back for the bucket. His head vanished into the water, faucet furiously pumping more water down his neck.

“Blank!” He gasped, “Blank means... possibilities! Endless, unlimited, possibilities!”

His head dunked back underwater, briefly this time. When he resurfaced, his eyes were finally closed, and a thick cone of steam billowed from his snout.

“I am sick of seeing that mare!” He cried. “Sick, sick, sicketty-sick sick of seeing that, that unflattering cow! The very second I take back control of my empire, I will ban all mares! All of them! Women cannot be trusted to lead a parade, let alone a nation. Princesses? Hah! Worthless charlatans. How many of my distress letters to Canterlot have gone unheeded? Princess Celestia doesn't care about us at all!"

With a heady growl, his head dunked back into to the bucket. It bubbled and boiled with his rage.

“Love?” He shouted, mane tangled into wild ropes. “Love! Love love lovey dovey lovey love fuckery!” The room shook in a flash of raging magic. Tools rattled off the wall, banging and clattering onto the cold stone floor. Slaves, swaddled in chains, shivered in their cells, watching their former king with quiet fear. “Love!” Sombra screamed. Then, more quietly. “Love... is a poison.”

He spun on his cowered subjects, horn bubbling in dark shadows. Two of the smallest, most fearful of the ponies were yanked out of their chains, dragged into the air. “Love is a boil. A pustule that warps the skin. A bloated bubble filled with infection. It spreads and spreads and spreads, warping who you are. What you are is lost to love! Soon, soon you’re transformed into a disgusting, infectious pile. Spreading your rot. Spreading your sickness across the entirety of the country!”

He stopped pacing, catching his breath. “Just a bit... a bit lightheaded. You know. From the asphyxiation. Whuhff. I hope I didn’t strain my throat.”

The shadows faded away from his horn, and two ponies dropped from his side. Sombra didn’t even notice them scramble for the door through his rant-induced headache. Blearily massaging his temples, he approached his workbench: a table covered in a black, crystalline tumors.

“I didn’t notice this disease in my rule,” he continued. “Foolish of me. I thought the disease was like a cold. Something ponies get, on occasion. It’s something forgivable, catching a ‘love bug.’ But no. But. No.”

Sombra hissed, head pounding as the shadows boiled over his horn, rising in a pestilent wave.

“All it took was one carrier. One mare.” Shadows rolled over the crystals. “Some pony so full up with disease, that the little bug became a full-blown plague. A plague of kissing, cuddling, and screwing. Who could ever in their right mind enjoy such banal things?!”

Sombra’s breath became strained once more. The crystals before popped, crackled, swelled into new branches and arms. Black light reflected into quick tendrils, snapping and grasping for every corner of the dungeon. Ponies squealed as black tumors of rock sprouted inches from their bodies.

“My empire,” Sombra hissed. “Is going to need a cure. Something equally vile to scrape this vile sickness from her body! You!” He whipped onto one of his slaves, eyes ablaze with sick darkness.

“M-me, my lord and master?”

“Tell me! What’s the opposite of love?!”

“I... Uh...” The slave’s eyes flicked from side to side, panicked. “Letting little ponies go, most noble and wonderful king?”

“Is it the sun?” another cried, “I really do miss the sun!”

“Chocolate pudding! No wait! VANILLA PUDDING!”

“No, dummies,” another piped up, “I’ve heard this riddle before! It’s indifference!”

“Oh, phew!” the second sighed, “Good thing we knew it. Now he might be nice enough to let us leave!”

“Hate and fear, you simpletons!” Sombra screamed. “It was a rhetorical question! Don’t you know what a rhetorical question is?”

“I think so,” one answered meekly. “Isn’t it when you ask—”

That was also a rhetorical question!” Sombra snapped. He rubbed his temples again. “Anyway. Hate and fear and rage and darkness! All of these things... they have helped me resist this horrible, horrible plague. Because they are greater! They shall supplant love!”

Sombra’s eyes popped, his mouth forming a small ‘o’ as a scheme bubbled to the top of his miry brain. It was brilliant, grand, and perfect. And like all great ideas, it was simple and came during the throes of an insane fit. “And today is the day that love shall finally leave the Crystal Empire! Huhuehahahahaha! Ahahahahahack! Gaaack ack ack k-chak! Ech, where is that water bucket?”

Breath heavy, he slowly lumbered over to his captured prey. Crystals still sprouted and popped around them, coating the shady dungeon in even deeper shadows. “You will see, little ssslave. All of you... The disease-ridden mare will be excised. And, in her absence, you will all gain resistance to this love, the same way I have. Now...” A foul tool yanked its way off the ground, shape obscured by the ever enclosing dark. The slave couldn't see what it was, or what Sombra intended to do with it. He began to squirm, to panic. “Open up and take your medicine!”

~~~

Outside of Sombra’s world of doom and gloom, the sun and stars continued to shine on the pink center of the universe. But make no mistake, the center of the universe served as much function as the center of a donut. Many chancellors and councils tended to the less-glamorous bureaucracy that kept the Crystal Empire from being crushed underneath their princess’s ever-growing behind. Yes, my Brother delighted in being contained in a body in every single way, and enjoyed indulging in its flesh more than he enjoyed indulging the pink, life-giving radiance of Love. The average day consisted of an endless pattern of feasting on chocolate and sweets and lavish dishes until her stomach felt ready to pop, then rolling out of her chair to find anyone that could help her work off some calories. But as exercise always left her feeling famished, it was right back to the dining table to replenish her strength and ensure that her body was, in fact, well on its way to becoming bubble-shaped.

When she emerged from one of her many private gymnasiums, it was only the sight of Luna’s rising moon that gave her any hint of which meal would be awaiting her next. Dinner time was always a wonderful thing. It meant the end of her royal responsibilities for the day, as if the world itself was letting her know her shift was over. But more importantly, dinner meant dessert. Her hooves barely touched the ground as lusty daydreams of cakes and pies and frosting beckoned for her.

Besides wanting five or twenty different kinds of dessert, she was in the mood for something salty. Cadence informed the chefs that she would be having seafood for dinner. The staff immediately went into a wonderful gray frenzy, throwing plates and cursing each other. The miserable salad that they had spent the last hour preparing was torn apart in seconds and abandoned in the trash.

Wave after wave of appetizers and hors d'oeuvres were brought out to the dining room to keep Cadence occupied while one of the chefs herded together a fish. Or however fish are caught. I honestly have no clue. They’re like cattle, right? Ponies have fish ranches, don’t they? And you get tartar sauce from milking them? That’s how I remember it at least. Well, however the pony got the fish, it took him at least an hour before he returned and then a half hour to prepare it.

Cadence wiggled her nose at the smell drifting from underneath the plate cover. She tapped on the dome with interest. “So. What’s the story on this one?” The chefs always liked to brag about their art, about the exquisiteness of the dish and the senses and feelings it was meant to inspire. For the most part she indulged them. But the honest truth is that they all felt the same once they were inside of her. Fattening.

The fisherman stared down at his princess stonily. “There I was, adrift in the middle of the ocean, casting my rod in and out. Then out from the briny deep came a Mahi-mahi the size of a Manatee-manatee! He jumped onto my boat and knocked me to the floor. Then I bucked him in the face and he spat out a tooth onto his fin and smiled, like he liked it. I knew that it was either him or me. And then I noticed the scar under his left eye and I realized it was the same fish who killed my parents twenty years ago.”

He whipped off the cover, revealing the sliced fish steaks arranged in a pattern around the head of an enormous fish. Its mouth was opened wide, as if caught halfway through a bloodcurdling scream.

“He comes with rice."

“...I don’t think I’m hungry any more.”

The dining room doors rattled open, shivering in their hinges. A black shadow crept across the table, emanating from the dark Ex-King Sombra. Hair sopping wet, breath coming in shuttering waves, he strode powerfully towards the pretty pink princess, eyes boring through her skull.

“Hey, blank flank!” Cadence chirruped. She nudged the fish platter towards her most trusted advisor. “Fancy some fish?”

“Mi Amore Cadenza,” Sombra growled, “There’s a foreign matter that desperately needs your attention.”

“Ooh, sounds exotic! What is it?”

“The southern pony nation is demanding your attention. Something about your phoenix friend. You need to go see them right away.”

“Sister Harmony’s asking for me?” Cadence thought for a moment. A sour look crossed her face. “Uhg, I don’t want to talk to her. She’ll just lecture me about ‘responsibility’ and ‘getting along’ and other preachy crap. Tell her ‘no thank you!’ for me, Blanky?”

“Your ‘Sister’ says it’s important,” Sombra growled. He had no clue what she meant, but calling a phoenix family was far from the strangest thing she had done.

“More important than my valuable peace of mind?”

“Yes.”

“Well I doubt that!”

Ex-King Sombra stared down at the pink disease, chewing quietly on the insides of his mouth. He had been forced to deal with her Royal Fanny for years. He knew her few strengths, and her many weaknesses. Each one turned over and over in his head. And from the addled slough, a perfect lie rose to the surface.

“Princess Mi Amore Cadenza,” he bellowed, “There is a pony down south who claims to be prettier than you.”

Cadence fell still.

“Well,” she said, “I guess I have to go kill a pony.” Cadence rose from her seat, the foreign emotion of determination in her eyes. “Where did you say this harlot was?”

“Your Sister has it narrowed down to Griffonia, Draconia, or the Unending Desert.”

“So... almost anywhere in the world?”

“The braggart knows she has to avoid your wrath, Princess.”

“She’s smart...” Cadence began striding towards one of the many open balconies, purpose in her step. “No time to wait. I’ll hunt her down... even if it takes me years to do so! So, blank flank!” She hopped onto a railing, glancing back over her shoulder. “Think you can handle the kingdom while I’m out?”

Sombra’s shoulders heaved, snout snapping skyward, eyes wide. A grin crept across his lips, spreading further and further. He chuckled, just a faint, wheezing sound. But with every inhale, his laugh grew louder, more forceful. His mane trembled. His cloak billowed. The room shivered. Louder and louder and louder his laugh grew, ecstatic and wild. The servant ponies inched away from the stallion, discreetly stampeding for the doors as crystalline shadows nipped at their feet.

“I’ll take that as a yes!” Unphased, Cadence snapped open her wings and took to the skies. Sure, Sombra was acting extra crazypants today. But there was a mare who thought she was prettier than the motherfucking Spirit of Love.

Cadence was long, long gone when King Sombra finally stopped. Not because he felt any loss for the coagulated ball of snot. He had simply exhausted himself laughing. His lungs hurt, his legs were wobbly, and his half-dried mane felt pasted to his neck. He straightened himself out, licking his teeth, feeling his jaws ache from glee.

“If I ever see that mare again,” he growled, “I swear it will be the death of me.”

Idly cast lingered shadows here and there, the newly christened King Sombra kicked over Cadence’s chair. A gray crystal chair swiftly regrew in its place. He dropped himself into his new throne, adjusted it a bit, reclined, and hovered over one of the fish slices.

“Mm,” he mumbled through a mouthful of rice. “Not bad.”

Doors flung open with a boom like a cannon. Glass shattered. Curtains ripped from their rods. The table upended in a tremendous blast of bright magic. Sombra roared, rage and fire bubbling in the air around him.

“Did you forget your favorite scrunchie, Cadence?!” he screamed. “What’s more important?! Your hair, or some harlot who— Oh.”

His voice died. Two ponies fluttered into his dining room, both of which were alicorns, but neither Cadence. One was a an offensive shade of unfashionable white, the other dark as absolutely unremarkable slice from the night sky.

Sombra regarded these ponies with suspicion. The last alicorn that had burst into his castle uninvited had decided to promptly take it over. It was entirely possible that these two planned to do the same. I mean, they had just destroyed his least favorite dining room.

“What is the meaning of this intrusion?” Sombra hissed.

Sun-Butt stepped forward. "Are you the ruler of the Crystal Empire?"

"I am King Sombra,” he replied coolly. “What business do you mares have here?"

"Word has reached our ears of a tyrannical ruler who has terrorized the ponies of the Crystal Empire for years," Sun-Butt said.

"And as is our duty,” What-Butt added, “We have come to put an end to your cruelty and evil."

"Wh-what?” The Cruel and Evil King Sombra fell out of his chair, gaping at the alicorn sisters. “No! No it wasn't me! It was Mi Amore you wanted! Those were my letters! You want Princess Mi Amore Cadenza!"

"He's speaking in tongues!"

"Blast him!"

~~~

Would you believe me if I told you that Brother Love tirelessly hunted for the heretic without rest for weeks, crossing tundra, desert, ocean, and mountain to send the lying pagan into the gaping mouth of Brother Death? And that afterwards, he immediately returned to resume his rule over the Crystal Empire happily ever after?

Because you shouldn’t believe me. That extends to most of the things I say, to tell you the truth. I’m a habitual liar. But now let me tell you what really happened.

By the time Princess Cadence reached the edge of the tundra that marked the end of the Crystal Empire, she was entirely sick of the whole exhausting bother. Considering that it was entirely possible that she simply hadn’t built up enough stamina during her daily workouts, she vowed to only return to her servants when she was stronger. She would continue her training while traveling around Equestria. Preferably around the warmer areas by the beach that had those nice resorts she read about in magazines. Arubuck, Jamaicolt, Bermudeer, Bahamare, Key Latigo, Muletego, and Kokomoo were her stomping grounds for the next two years. She got there fast and then took it slow. I think she even wrote a song about it. It was catchy.

After many arduous months, full of bodies in the sand and tropical drinks, Cadence finally felt that she was ready to return to her subjects and be the ruler she always knew she could be. Plus, she missed all of her stuff.

But when she finally descended from the snow-filled skies and folded her wings, she was not met with the sight of thousands of celebrating crystal ponies cheering for her triumphant return. The sun did not shine through prismatic towers, casting rainbows on the snow like a flamboyant lighthouse. There were no wine fountains or diamond sculptures of herself decorating the streets.

The Crystal Empire had collapsed and vanished. And amazingly, it wasn’t Cadence’s fault.

“But–but my ponies! My empire!” Tears began to trickle from the corners of her eyes while she desperately searched for any trace of her lost kingdom. Reality finally caught up to her and threw her to her knees in despair. “I have so much more horniness to give!”

Her wail carried on the frozen wind for miles, reaching every corner of her lost empire and bouncing off every snow mound and mountain. By the time her cry had crossed back over the tundra and reached her ears, Cadence was already over it.

“Oh well, maybe there’s another kingdom that’s looking for a new princess,” she said while shrugging off the clumps of snow clinging to her fur and feathers. “I’ll start looking later. Right now I need a vacation.”

Author's Note:

I did something new with my co-author TheGreyPotter for this chapter. I wrote only the first letter of each word in the whole chapter, and then told her to write the rest of the chapter by using those first letters as a template.

She got it done, but she's not talking to me right now.