Tale of a Monster
The world is a cruel place. Life taught me that much.
History books call me many things. Sombra the Wicked. Sombra the Dark. Sombra the Tyrant, just to mention a few. Open any book regarding the history of the Crystal Empire, and I am sure you'll find some mentioning of my name. Of how I was a cruel and heartless monster who enslaved the innocent and ruled them all with an iron hoof. Who made a deal with the devil, trading his very soul for powers through sadistic rituals that even I, so terrible a character, would refrain from mentioning here.
So be it. Let the historians say what they will. However they choose to envision me is not of my concern. However, history books often fail to explore every aspect of a story. They often fail to ask the simple, yet nonetheless important questions. Where did the evil king come from? Why did he commit his deeds with such malice?
Would you believe that I was not born a native of the very empire I ruled? No, no, no, such a thought would be a lie were it spoken as if it were a truth. My home was not the kingdom of crystals, but the sands and rocks of a great desert, far from the empire, yet so close to be its neighbor. I lived not in a city of magnificent design, but in a settlement of mud and crudely carved stone.
In this land of Equestria, when the sun of Celestia rises the civilians give thanks to their ruler for heralding forth the light. In my homeland, I and my people cursed the sun's light. No. We were not dwellers of the darkness then. No. We did not fear the daylight, as though we feared it would kill us. No. We held great disdain for the sun for it wrought a most brutal heat upon us. Our days are filled with scorching blasts so great that to linger for but more than a few minutes would surely burn our flesh away, the bones left to lay hidden beneath the horrid sands that stung our hooves.
We did not hold the night in much favor either, for while the ponies of the land outside my home slept in the warmth of their beds, guarded by the light of Luna's moon, I and my people were left to do all we could to survive a coldness that I can only describe as being far more vicious than what historians made me to be in their texts.
And yet, be it day or be it night, when I looked outside the hole in my room's wall that served as a window, far off in the distance I would see it. The great Crystal Empire, looking oh so grand and beautiful. And the more I looked at it, the greater my poor heart longed to trade my home for one less harsh.
For when the winds blew through the desert, they brought with the currents sand and death. When the winds swept through the empire of crystals, they brought with them seeds of new life and prosperity.
When the angels of the heavens cried their tears and brought forth the life-giving rain upon the world below, they fell upon the empire of crystals, who drank from it and quenched their thirst. For my people and I, we had devils cry hot, burning tears that stung our flesh as if like acid, and worsened our thirst rather than satisfied it.
And when the time came for the earth to bear new seeds of life, the empire of crystals received great fields of bounty, luxurious trees that bore fruit, and fields of fine wheat ad other harvest. For my people and I, such a time of celebration was a time when the sands swallowed what little farming patches we had, and left many of us hungry for another weeks, and months, and more.
The winds that blew through the Crystal Empire. I...I suppose I coveted that wind.
The rain that fell upon the Crystal Empire. I guess I coveted that rain too.
The earth upon which the Crystal Empire's foundations lay upon. Oh, indeed, I coveted that very much.
When all I had known in life was survival, was it hardly surprising that I soon sought for some measure of ease, some measure of comfort for myself?
Perhaps there was another way. I admit here and now that perhaps there could have been another alternative to invading another kingdom. Maybe there could have been a different approach, and perhaps history would have remembered it as a great event that both parties would prosper from for many years to come. But that is all they are now. Maybes and perhaps'. What is done, is done. I made my decision that one day, a motive fueled by jealousy and envy, rather than absolute evil intent as I am sure the historians have claimed.
To think so few who suffered so much were able to topple an empire that had more than us and needed little is something even I can not believe myself. My people shared my ideals, it was easy enough to rally them to fight. But did I truly believe we had a chance to win? Not really. To be honest I would have been willing to die in the invasion if it meant dying upon a bed of green grass, as opposed to my corpse festering and rotting away in the blasted sandy plains. So few in number were we, but our natural instincts, our inner survivalists allowed us to overcome soldiers who never had to fight for anything in their lives. The army of the Crystal Empire might as well have been a legion of tin-clad toy soldiers for all the good they were against us.
I slew the king and queen of the empire myself. Was it necessary to do such a thing? I don't think it was, but the fighting prior to my playing executioner fueled the jealous in my soul. Awakened an inner hatred I suppose I had harbored for those who lived in the Crystal Empire. A hatred for all who lived in peace and comfort, oblivious to the suffering and agony outside their borders.
I wouldn't blame you for not believing that I had only desired to give them a small taste of what I had been through. But hatred, jealousy, my fair share of witnessing death and decay since the day I was born...
I allowed it all to consume me. I let my darkness out, and it manifested itself into an image of myself. The blood of two beloved monarchs stained my hooves, and my heart, already fit to burst from the seemingly endless contempt I held for this empire, released all of my withheld hatred and inner devilish thoughts.
I openly accepted my fate as my darker self swallowed me whole in its gaping jaw, plunging me into an abyss I could never escape from. The spilling of blood is the first and only step to awakening the terrible nature inside yourself, and bring it out into the light before you fall from it entirely. I allowed myself to fall so far from the light, that I could never find the path back to it.
And yet the light was not so completely gone, the darkness was not yet so complete, that I couldn't recognize myself for what I had become.
A monster.
The devil that I had become. The power born from my own heart that I tainted with negative emotions. The wicked new personality that killed the old one, and tattooed itself within me. No longer Sombra the victim, but Sombra the antagonist.
Would the empire have itself ruled by one who acted upon motives brought upon by his own suffering and jealousy, or would it be ruled by a tyrannical monster who knew no compassion or love?
Well, what do the history books have to say about it, hmm?