> Through the Snow
>  by Ice Star
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Part One: Starswirl and the Crystal City
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Starswirl had bought a map. Well, he hadn't actually bought it, instead he had purchased a cheap bit of parchment to replace his dwindling supply and then swiped the antique map of a country that may-or-may-not exist that just so happened to catch his eye. Then, he left the store before the merchant could have realized he had cut the parchment price in half as well. After all, he knew the young 'Unicorn' who ran the tome store had a drop of pegasus blood in his family line mixed in from an old war — there were always wars raging in these lands — where a pegasus raider stallion would have had his way with some lower-class Unicorn mare, and she wouldn't be able to get rid of the foal. This tradespony was one such specimen. Therefore that 'Unicorn' wasn't worthy of such a valuable object, especially since Starswirl wanted it.

This was one of the few trips the wizard made into the large river valley that was the entire country — and the whole world to the three tribes of ponies who dwelled within it. They stirred up endless wars since before anypony could remember, everything about them festering in a yawning basin split into three by a river and surrounded by mountains. Other than that, he lived in a small valley somewhere below the mud pony and Unicorn border. It was tucked to the side of all the war and famine of ponykind and was what one thought of when they envisioned the constraints of a conventional valley.

Nopony except those pesky navigators knew the technical names for directions, and few in each tribe measured things in ways that deviated from using the positions of landmarks alone or folk methods passed down by illiterate ancestors among the many serfs. Of course, Starswirl wouldn't tell anypony that, he would not ever would with the uneducated so much as he would exploit them for all his wants and needs. He also wouldn't tell anypony that if they followed the setting sun under the barbaric floating cloud-city of pegasi (and remained unmolested by such a savage race), went over the frigid mountains that most all thought was the world's border, then they would find a boundless body of blue water whose surface was as changeable as the mood of Princess Platinum. Nor would he tell a single pony that if the mud ponies were to ah... 'lend' you one of the large river-boats they used to send the tithes of food to the other races that had them live as hostages to their whim, you could bob along this stormy surface for many a day and night. These numbers would grow greater than the number of hooves of a Unicorn household and a pony's typical lifespan combined until you were swept to a land other than the Known Valley.

This strange new land was also filled with ponies, and those ponies spoke of all things Starswirl knew to be utter nonsense as he shuffled among them: equality among races and sexes, hidden gods, and enlightenment. All of which Starswirl safely knew to be shit. That expression was a good curse of his nation, and the summary of what mud ponies lived in and fashioned their every hut out of in these three nations of squalor. He took time to learn enough of their tongue, which was not unlike the fragments that made it into the speech of the Unicorn Tribe, who passed down what Starswirl knew to be a superior version of the tongue, one that even his ancestors spoke. Their stories were treasures not shared outside of the family, and contained made-up lands with names like the Visgothic League of Survivors, the Burgundian Remenants, the Frisian Clans, Alamaneia, Germaneigh, and the Western Herds. They spoke of strife and disaster no mystical heritage-tongue could capture preceding the formation of these groups, and here was a struggling nation where Unicorns walked among their lesser that called itself Prancia — this could not have been the true origin of his family's gift to him. Starswirl did not think this just because he decided that this wretched land spoke the language wrong compared to his forebearers, but also because of the evident depravity and instabilities he observed. (Yet, it remained the only place where he found leonine-tailed unicorns like himself outside of those who kept a similar heritage tongue in the Unicorn Court.)

No, not a single soul from the Known Valley could ever hope to learn of any of this journey taken before Starswirl ever became 'the Bearded' and came to live in his little wintery valley. When he returned from his journey, he had stronger convictions of the superiority of Unicorns than ever before. Though he saw no evident limit to the land Prancia — and he did not care to look for one — he left that inferior place and returned to his beloved court. There, he told tales of battling sea serpents — which he did, on his journey there — and endless storms across water that went on forever. Anything to reaffirm what the three tribes needed to hear — that theirs was not just the only land in the world, but the one where natural laws had room to play out to their fullest extent. For his lies, young Starswirl was showered with admiration for braving what was being proclaimed as the 'ends of the world' and riches beyond what his clan already carried. All of the fame and glory made forsaking his place as heir to the family house worth it to the then-adolescent. 

That journey did not stop the almost worship-like reverence that he held for the Unicorns, whom he declared the race above races. This young stallion was born to one of the noble families, and yet he discarded almost all association of them to travel beyond the Known Valley — a feat believed to take much power indeed, for he was the only one who made a show of doing so and the only one to return alive on the boat he had enchanted and modified according to ideas books in the family library gave him. To survive the Unlivable Nothing was no small feat! To the Unicorn Court Starswirl was clearly a master of magics and the workings of the universe to pull off such a feat! Of course, there were always his mystic powers to assure him recognition as well; how he could have ponies travel to events that occurred within the previous sun's cycle, scramble thoughts like storm-winds, teleport long-distances, levitate living creatures without crushing or suffocating them, conjuration of all kinds, and his unparalleled skill in casting wards. Yet, none of those compared to Starswirl's true talent, and the one his flank marked him for: the ability to swirl the mind of its sense of direction, certainty, and clarity. He could also sway those who disagreed with him, particularly if they were weak-minded in some way. Through this method, he managed to have many a young Unicorn Court mare warm his bed with the glow of his horn, and he received many an item for free by that same light of magic. It was as though Starswirl could command anything with that spiraling touch to his aura, that flicker, and extract the words and actions he wanted from any with nothing but the light of his horn.

Although, what would he have needed this map for? Could it be more than a petty conquest? Was it not he who reinforced the generations-old beliefs that the Known Valley was the Known World? After all, who could travel to a place that most likely doesn't exist? Starswirl was entirely sure he could, after all, since he was the closest thing these ponies had to a god in his mind. Not only would he never let them forget that, but he knew that none could ever unravel all of these numerous small inconsistencies in his life, and were anypony to observe a mere fraction of them, they would not be believed. Even without his magic, he was well-worshipped and in constant favor through both his work, his bribes, and his magical might alike. He wasn't constrained by their laws and limits; already, he had lived way past the age countless had perished at, and he had a beard to prove it! His face was without the scars of any pox, but there was a harshness to his voice that came from his own nature and an old cough alike.

Why if he had faith in any god or unseen force, he would indeed declare himself one — if of course, he didn't already subconsciously believe he was above that nonsense. In that way, he was like everypony else around him. 

It was pretty safe to say that Starswirl the Bearded did not think he was able to die. After all, dying was for peasants.



...



Once he returned to his personal valley, Starswirl pored over the map he had swiped and tried to figure out how the location depicted would fit into the mostly unknown world by drawing countless maps on that newly bought parchment that he had actually paid for. These roughly drafted maps to connect the Known Lands and this strange country he now saw were quite terrible considering how Starswirl not only had no navigation skills, but that a pony who thought the world was flat would have produced results that were a bit more... readable. That wasn't to say that Starswirl wasn't educated at a young age as any noble youth would have been — all the finest tutors that money could buy taught a young Starswirl that the world — the Known Valley was indeed flat. His trip to Prancia had not changed that. So, it was through the patterns of ice, stone, and other geographical features that Starswirl managed to deduce that he must head across the Known Valley's mountains and travel eastward. 

But what was it that the map depicted, and why was it so important?

Its importance was less than a bard's verse to most ponies and was about as easy to come by as cheerful tax collectors. Starswirl heard the first tidbit in a back alley-type tavern outside of the austere and unwelcoming stone capital city of the Unicorns on a bleak winter's day. It was the type of tale that had most sorts crowded into any ale-dispensing location, since nopony had much worth doing if you thought about it hard enough — all daily toils went towards fueling the latest wars. Those who could not shiver in stone buildings built barely any different from tombs naturally sought something to drink and the crowding of company if they lacked the means to heat their dwelling with mud pony peat and Unicorn-mined coal. However, plenty still froze in the streets. It was the pony way. 

It was there on one of those rare frequents outside of his home — if memory served, he was probably on crown-sanctioned business, swindling or harassing any poverty-stricken flea-ridden peasant, or offering another round of actively drilling how he believed and how he knew that he was just better than everypony else (Unicorn or not) because he simply was, obviously. That was when Starswirl's creaky recollection sprung. There was also the possibility that he was laughing at grieving Unicorns hunched miserably over a tankard of watered-down mead, for it was never uncommon to see those whose relatives had perished in the raising and lowering of the sun and moon, for the celestial cycles could only happen through deadly ritual if the world was to be held in any balance at all. The Unicorns had the perfect death lottery to keep the world alive — a world that didn't know them, or how grateful and horrified it should be, anymore than those in the Known Valley knew of the world. 

None of this mattered to him after he heard those words:

"... ol' story me da used to tell me and my sister... somethin' 'bout a city made 'o crystals? Yeah, that's it, I ain't no bard though so why're ya asking me ta tell it to ya?"

Clearly, the words of a peasant that was likely to be as thick in their skull as he was in his accent.

Immediately, Starswirl found the speaker over all the songs, gusts of cold wind, drunken shouts, and routine sobs of the bar. In fact, Starswirl practically materialized next to him — a thin and rugged-looking Unicorn stallion clad in rusted armor, who had a splinted leg bound in bloody rags. There was a spear propped next to him. The stallion was clearly a border guard who must have been injured in some sort of skirmish and couldn't afford a proper healer, but those were reserved for the rich with how rare they were, and his accent was that of the rural landowners, who were lowly among the nobles. The pony that this stranger was talking to was another Unicorn, a jolly-looking tavern maid levitating a tray holding a hodgepodge assortment of bottles, goblets, and other mugs. Starswirl paused to look her over, letting his eyes roam and rest upon her like an uncomfortable weight until her smile vanished entirely. She tried to mask a nervous swallow, shifting on her hooves, and trying to make how she held a forehoof to cover the drinks look natural. 

"A city made of crystals," Starswirl roared, "how absurd!"

Starswirl glared into the stallion's eyes, frowning even more deeply into the wrinkles of his muzzle. He noticed that the stranger's eyes seemed to have a rather unusual shine to them, although Starswirl couldn't understand why such a luster was present, especially on such a sorry figure. 

The maid sighed in a manner suggesting annoyance and muttered something along the lines of 'he's always like this, don't take it personally' to the guard before being called away by some bloke demanding more to drink. Starswirl almost found himself surprised, since he knew the mares in this establishment very well. Either this one was new or so awed by his reputation that he wouldn't even need to use his magic to compel her to do anything for him.

The stallion stood up, hobbling a bit on his broken leg; he was pretty tall with an unwashed white coat, green eyes, and a mane and tail the color of hay.

"Am I 'earing this right? You callin' my pa a liar, ya bloke?"

Starswirl waved his hoof in a dismissive gesture at the young stallion. "With that uneducated dialect of yours, it would be easy to say that not only is your father a liar, but that your whole family is nothing but mud pony beggars who fumbled with pottery until they had horns to put on their heads. You're lucky to be a Unicorn at all."

His opponent gritted his teeth. "Oh? Well yer jest a bumblin' sot who pritends to be reading them scrolls an' has pro'lly never done two solar hours worth o' work in yer life. Weakness makes mud ponies more than any amount o' horns does."

Starswirl's nostrils flared and some of the other tavern-goers began to turn over and watch what was likely the seventh outbreak of some sort of violence that day. What else would there be to break up the constant knowledge that they were all freezing to death?

"Ah, but I am better than you, peasant, because I do not even have to look at mud ponies and stab at them with a crude stick such as that for my line of work," he sneered, "You shall find I am far nobler with my actions and my pedigree, and have safely sold out a ward of mine into the war effort, while your own father clearly sells you the way a slave should be handled. Young wards are more fitting in dealing with such ghastly things than adults or Unicorns of respectful lines. Do you know nothing of the dark creature who has become known as Starswirl's Monster that I have lent so graciously to the troops years ago? I also have no need of a healer, as I can heal myself like a proper and true Unicorn. Even my ward is capable of healing herself — and without even tiring, like a pony does!"

"So what if I ain't got much magics? I've heard quite a bit o'bout ya since I've been stayin' in these parts an' it seems you have the power to vanish into the unknown and bend wills like th' smithy bends iron by their magics. Which, I should say, ya should try doin' more often. Not a soul will miss ya, Starswirl of House Glimmer, if it's much of a House at all, with a cripple-filly and a sot like you as their only excuse for heirs! In a thous' years, nopony in the whole Valley will remember your family!"

Starswirl only sniffed. "And where are you from, little hick? I bet one thousand is the biggest number you know"

The glistening-eyed stallion fixed his gaze on Starswirl, though he flinched slightly at the second part — it was clearly a barb that hit at a shameful truth, though not an uncommon one, even among country nobility. "My name is Duke Sigurd Goldenrod an' I'm eleven days away from the Earth pony border and th' mountains ranges where I hear you've been livin'. An' if I was you, I wouldn't be callin' names in a place like this, we tavern-goin' types can be awful rowdy — you're a stranger here."

A mocking laugh escaped Starswirl. "Pish-posh! Now I know for sure that you are no hick — you're lower than that! Even the frost-bitten beggars outside are above border-pony excuses for 'nobility' like you! Those who bear our pure crown only threw your clans there because they could not stand to keep them among the well-bred in the court!"

Goldenrod lunged at Starswirl as best as one could in his state, his emerald eyes afire. Instead, he landed in a heap where Starswirl had stood only a moment before with both sober and not-so-sober occupants casting looks of sympathy in his direction.

That was the first Starswirl the Bearded heard of this unknown land, and that got his brain going in ways that did not line up with his words. From then on he went from tavern to tavern, bard to bard, any out-of-the-way place he could to find out more he could about the city that piqued his interest so much — not that he would say so to those he only repaid with mockery and threats. But his favorite part may have been the insults he gave each 'Goldenrod' he met, each word slung like a stone from a sling, how he would watch many shamed from a place they thought some pathetic illusion of 'acceptance' might be. Sometimes, they even left limping from a magical attack or with new bruises laid out from the hilt of the sword Starswirl the former Glimmer usually kept upon him, not wanting to dirty his hooves with by contact with their flesh.

From all the bits whispered in Unicorn Territory he pieced together quite a tale.

A tale of a city made of crystals, inhabited by ponies with twinkling eyes and coats, whose craftsmanship exceeded anything known to Tribesponies and who curiously enough, knew some sort of magic. And they lived in a land with multiple seasons. Yet, they seemed like something out of another time to Starswirl, although he scoffed at the idea. There was nothing but the Tribes, nothing before the Tribes, and there will never be anything except the Tribes... and maybe, just maybe this shining city that could never be as disappointing as Prancia was.

If all went as he wanted, the Tribes would have to bow to the one thing above all... him. Or so his thoughts went as Starswirl packed the last bit of supplies for his journey.

Nothing could defeat him, he would never die.

And so he left his three apprentices — without any farewells from either side — trapped in the prison that was both apprenticeship, wardship, and then of course actual wards. Clover, Solara, and Selene would fare without him, the spells that swirled the senses and caged them keeping them from the world — and escape. 



...



It took one year of journeying across an endless wasteland of nothing but snow and ice dragging at least three years worth of provisions with him via the largest travois that he could fashion. Starswirl may have lived in snow, but he hated it. In the land of the Tribes, there were two months of a sort of summer that the harvest season had to be wrangled into, one month of some sort of fragile excuse for spring, and six months what was without a doubt winter — autumn was no more than summer's abrupt end. Starswirl hated winter and summer, and the brief interlude that was spring. If he knew what autumn was, he'd hate that too.

Nevertheless, he made it. Or at least he thought so. After a year of that stupid snow he finally came to some mountains against the white of the world. He found them to be very strange mountains that glistened faintly and were almost purple in coloration in the sunlight, as opposed to being nothing but jagged gray snow-colored masses that could just be viewed as nothing but big roadblocks if you wanted to think like Starswirl did. The mountains around the Known Valley were foreboding, and that kept out the worst of the cold so that the ponies who settled there could eke out a living. 

When he looked up at the sky he noticed that while indistinct silver-white snow-laden clouds drifted on this side — you almost couldn't tell the ground from the sky — just over the mountains. The sky was bright, clear blue with swirling vibrant clouds floating lazily and there was not a speck of snow he could see.

Starswirl went to find a pass of some sort as quickly as he could.



...



It took a little while but Starswirl was eventually able to locate such a pass before the sun began to set. The camp was really just an old wood cabin that could only be lit by a bit of torch-light. The sparse and impersonal interior suggested that the inhabitant would only reside here seasonally, as the furniture was no more than a single-size bed with red sheets, a double chest, and a rather nondescript craftspony's work table. Scattered on the floor were bits of rough gem and crystal leftover from some sort of work. One modestly sized fireplace was unlit and evidently had not been used in some time. 

Starswirl lugged all his supplies into the humble abode, mumbling how much he loathed the wooden plank cabin. There was only a tiny window on its flimsy wooden door to hear him. His cobblestone tower was so much better, he thought. Besides, who slept in the same room where their door was? It was a perfect way to get killed if some madpony or monster were to rush in with a sword and stab you. Oh, and steal all your things. Even as Starswirl sorted through his supplies he just knew his tower-home was better. That he was better than anything in this supposed utopia.

Utopia...

The word hung in the air for a moment like undesirable food lingering on a table. This word had no meaning to Starswirl or any other pony born of the three Tribes. Despite its existence in his language, the meaning of such a concept could not be more useless. 

By magical means, he lit the torches and fell asleep in a house that was not his own, in a land far from his home. Despite this, he didn't miss anything except the reverence given to him by many. A year alone had given him no supply to feast on such intangible luxuries. Starswirl didn't even think the Unicorn Court would be lost without him because Starswirl never thought about anything outside of his almighty self... and perhaps he never would.



...



A small beam of sunlight shone through the glass-less window forcing in a slight mountain breeze untainted by the smell of pestilence, taverns, and others' things which may be generally be considered impure when in contact with the air. The wizard was not from a city that managed its sewage well — even if his tribe managed it best, neither dropping their waste to the ground below or living in their own filth like a mud pony. Starswirl arose, cursing so hard any drunkard, criminal sort, and other lowlifes would have been like the manifestation of Pure Good and 'What You Should Aspire To Become' in comparison with him.

He continued to make such a ruckus as he moved that down a little lower in the pass, a pony native to the mountain-enclosed land on a morning walk thought that a whole group of gem-miners had encountered some working hazard over in one of the quarries close by an old cabin.

Starswirl did not entirely know what to expect from the ponies who lived here as he was too busy with already knowing what he wanted to find. He was somewhat collected now, and was busy staring at the 'visitor' in the doorway, a shiny stallion with a glistening mane and tail of amber and shimmering coat of amethyst. Hie ears were pricked forward with cautious curiosity — he was the stallion who had heard the commotion — and his eyes were wide with a tinge of anxiety at the presence of a stranger. Just like the peasant-duke who had mocked him in the tavern, there was something curious about his eyes: they were as radiant as gems and shone like big blue sapphires no matter what emotion flickered in them. On his flank was the mark of two scales of clear crystal.

But all Starswirl saw was the lack of a horn or any wings. The first marked him as inferior to the old wizard, and the second marked this stranger as perplexing. Yet, this clearly wasn't a mud pony... so what was he?

The strange stallion looked Starswirl over warily. 

"Let's begin with the simple stuff: My name is Tanzanite—" he pointed to his chest as he said this, and Starswirl came to the conclusion that this feeble, and inferior... rock pony... was insulting him by suggesting the Superior and Educated Starswirl the Bearded, God-being Conjurer of the Unicorn Tribe was unable to hear anything past his accent.

"—now who are you, eh?" the rock pony concluded gesturing his hoof right at the esteemed Starswirl. What nerve!

Starswirl adjusted his hat and flared his star-patterned cloak as if he had prepared for something important, when he really appeared to present himself somewhere between flamboyant and foolish to any actual onlookers. His belled garments jangled noisily with the gesture. 

"I AM STARSWIRL THE BEARDED, YOU INSIGNIFICANT PEASANT! I STRIKE FEAR IN THE UNWORTHY! TAKE ME TO YOUR LEADER!"

Tanzanite stared blankly at him. Sure this stranger was a bit funny looking for a sight as rare as a unicorn, and he clearly wasn't Crystalline. Instead, he bore some resemblance to ponies that were said to have passed through the area many centuries ago. Those were the ones that added wings and horns — which were traits unheard of except on the reigning Alicorns that preceded the current Queen and the small population of cross-breeds — to the gene pool. When some of those strangers had stayed and assimilated into the population, they lent those permanent signs of their presence to a fraction of the population. He presumed that this bearded stallion must have gotten some sort of madness from the snow, or quite possibly was a drunkard who just so happened to be very, very, lost.

Very.

Thankfully, he didn't seem to be much of a threat. Tanzanite asked the foreign-accented stallion if he would care to leave this mountain and what his name was.

This pony — Starswirl — nodded. Tanzanite was relieved, this way he might be able to observe if this stallion was sick, or perhaps a bit mad by how he behaved in larger crowds of ponies. His new company didn't seem like a loner either, not with how he introduced himself or with how he was lugging all those supplies around and being so willing to talk. This led Tanzanite to rationalize that he must want something if not from here, from somewhere.

It wouldn't hurt to bring this guy into the city since the Empire was so well-defended, despite all the issues under the new Queen. After all, it wasn't as if he'd do anything important, this Starswirl was just another rare visitor whose actions would fade away to a half-remembered market tale, like the kind shared by Tanzanite's grandparents. 

Tanzanite felt himself give a slight nod of reassurance, as if to assure himself even more that his conclusion was sound than the stallion in front of him. Even an unusual-looking fellow like Starswirl the Stranger, Tanzanite thought, couldn't have much impact on others. He was too silly. It would be safe to bring him into the city and surrounding area, even if they were spots that lacked the immediate presence of the nation's Heart. If he were to leave the stranger here he would've found his way into the city eventually but at least Tanzanite could keep an eye on him this way.

There was a slight chuckle as Tanzanite led  Starswirl the Stranger outside, ignoring the constant cursing remarks of how he had to levitate so much and how why couldn't somepony else take care of it, along with some rambling about 'mud ponies' that Tanzanite couldn't understand.

Still, it was not this annoying behavior that was the cause of the chuckle.

The Empire without the Crystal Heart, Tanzanite thought again, almost laughing at the idea on the inside. How could that truly be possible? It would be like having a sky without stars at night — and it was thanks to both the natural geography of the land and the powers of the Crystal Heart that there were more nights that the crystal ponies could see the stars at all. 

The Crystal ponies 'thought' more with their hearts than their heads in many areas.



...



Starswirl hated this place. He hated the ponies in this place - excluding himself. He hated the way they did things.

It was all wrong.

This place — 'The Crystal Empire' — was even more backward then mud ponies or Prancia! Their buildings were made of shining crystal with a raw and unsculpted look instead of stone bricks, some wood, and thatch. Prancia was a nation built on or away from obvious ruins but at least they knew what ponies were supposed to live in. Of course, Starswirl despised them instantly, scoffing at the attempts; how could something less than mud ponies be expected to run a country, after all? Why, even the roads were unlike anything he had ever known — stranger, straighter, and stronger than any stone of the Unicorn cities and mining communities. Even the rural communities of unicorns knew how to fashion stone so that they didn't have the untraversable muck that mud ponies passed off as their best highways. 

Starswirl still had some hope there was a decent social order — the stuff of the Unicorn way. 

Please let there be a Unicorn to lord over them, he thought as he continued to ignore Tanzanite's babbling. Please let the patriarchs and matriarchs of their clan know their places and order everypony else's with the strictness needed. Let them not have some rock pony nonsense.

Tanzanite stopped and pointed to a building in front of them — a two-story thing made of gleaming purple crystal that almost appeared to be sunning itself. "Like I said, with the recent crop failures there's been a recession, so the food might cost you more than you would like, but plenty of ponies more patient than I come here. They've got the best stuff for your shards in the whole of the Crystal Empire."

The sign swinging next to the door stated that the building was some sort of diner. Starswirl immediately concluded that this country was so backward that they probably didn't even have a decent source of ale. None of the ponies that they passed on the street smelled as strongly of the brews that Starswirl knew too well the way that ponies smelt of alcohol back home. All he heard was talk of strangeness like 'wine' and 'vodka' more than anything else. Horrible. Prancia had wine, and they were horrid — the other drink would be just as vile. 

Tanzanite walked away muttering about how much he hoped the next crazy pony he found in the mountains was not an unpleasant xenophobe who mumbled everything under his breath and held his head so high that he slammed into lampposts repeatedly, including the same one twice.

Starswirl headed down a different street; he didn't trust that rock pony. The lampposts were starting to annoy him with their inferiority, even though they didn't even have lampposts back home. There was no need for them — not when enough Unicorns knew some spell that could light their way with their horn. No pegasus had lampposts — and mud ponies certainly didn't either. 



...



It was a secret to all but Starswirl that he wanted to be above everything. Especially, death. He was afraid of death like he was afraid of nothing else — well, mainly since he wasn't afraid of anything else. The god complex he had didn't allow it. Starswirl would do anything to cheat death and ironically to do this he needed time. Three apprentices were a pain, but since Clover would be tossed to the Unicorn Court under Platinum's hoof, that would be okay, right?

No, because Clover 'the Clever' — or as he usually called her 'You-with-the-ugly-mane' — did a good deal of the labor. She was more 'servant' and her 'apprenticeship' was just her being taught to read and do a few pages' worth of spells that were generally above average, at their best. With her gone, that work would fall on him, which was utterly unacceptable. This would distract him from not dying, of course, and his brief time travel spell just wasn't adequate.

Ergo, the work would get done. Just not by him.



...



It was no secret, at least to Onyx, why his parents got rid of him. Or why everypony stared at him, why none of them wanted him. It was especially obvious why nopony really bothered to talk to him. Even if he wasn't that clever, or even remotely intelligent, it was hard to ignore the absence of crystallokinesis followed by an utter lack of a few other things. Oh, but they were just itty-bitty little things really, not things you needed. Just empathy, regret, mercy, and remorse. Or so it seemed.

Anypony who knew Onyx well enough knew that he also didn't have much of any foresight either. He barely planned anything out, and if he did bother to formulate any kind of plan at all it had as many holes as an amnesiac's memory. He rarely could remember when he ate a meal — and he liked to eat more than his fair share of rations out of spite. His impulse held control of much of him. He was incorrigible to the utmost degree and loved others’ suffering more than anything else, even more so if he was the cause of it. To him, that was the closest thing to joy. 

But nopony knew Onyx well enough. He never really hid much from anypony — and not necessarily because he thought to conceal anything — but it was hard to piece him together, even for a foal his age. Despite his extroversion, he normally placed himself near the sidelines or was alone, and sometimes gone entirely. He had to be so in order to do what he wished, to avoid scolding, and because none of the other fillies and colts liked him. The years had taught them that to be normal and to try and bring them along or join in was to be rejected for all the parts of him that he liked best — and for what he did to the other children (which was fueled by those parts). 

You would only see him in fragments: unrestrained laughter in another room when somepony got hurt, a bratty nature, or tantrums and similar outbursts thrown past the age when other foals outgrew them. He had numerous absurd amounts of attempted — and always failed — manipulation and swindling towards the other foals that never succeeded. It was not just because they learned why he was to be avoided, but some part of him almost always underestimated the naivete and mere presence of others.

Of course, things also got worse: a missing knife from the kitchens one day, and bloodstains around the bird feeder or animal bones found in the bushes. All these were fragments of the seemingly nonsensical puzzle that was Onyx, the more you tried to piece it together the less sense it made: Where did the abnormalities start? When did it start? What was the trigger? How could somepony who enjoyed mutilating other creatures possibly turn out as an adult? A pony who ate meat, had feathers clinging between the teeth of his wide grin, and a fondness for others' tears and breaking things was sick, sadistic, and warped. A truly bad seed.

He also never told anypony about his anger, even though everypony saw it burst in sparks like the sparky bite of an out-of-control fire. Nopony would usually ever see him angry except in flashes — you might see him irritated, seething, and oddly helpless. The last one obviously was a bruising realization to the child that he did try to hide — but was apparent to anypony who looked at him in those moments. Frustration was as plentiful as boredom. Perhaps there were times were a pony would see him look a bit glum, since that usually followed his boredom, but never would they see prolonged anger. Mostly he smiled, leering at all unaware of his own misfit creepiness, and even though genuine anger his smiles would persist. Vile thoughts were nurtured properly behind it as those temper tantrums faded — but even the bones and blood preceded those. 

He did not get what he wanted — the other colts wouldn't let him play with them even if he clearly sought to ruin their game... and cried anyway at their rejection, even on the days when he knew it was coming. All sympathies for him faded when his disturbances were made known, or his deliberate antagonism came out — hitting, hair-pulling, shoving, and the like, for no reason other than that he could — and the pain brought him delight. The fillies knew that he would tug at their braids and could not be given sweet candies, small creatures, or stolen kisses. He complained that his lessons were too hard. He didn't see why he needed to read, and only begrudgingly kept up. Baking pies for the Crystal Faire wasn't fun, nor did he understand the purpose of similar charity work done by his orphanage. Storytime was boring and he couldn't sit still through it. His new toy could only be broken once — and that bothered him, so he turned to breaking other foals' toys when he could. Nopony talked to him enough. His new manecut wasn't to his liking, even though others tried to give him exactly what he asked for. He wanted to go outside and play, until the idea left his head the moment he stepped out or couldn't spot a suitable, instantaneous distraction. He wanted to talk to strangers who were put off by something that came out in his grin the way a grandmother is put off by broken flowers. He had no friends, despite only attempting to make them because he wanted to hurt them. He was in desperate want to hurt others, it pumped like blood under his skin. He wanted somepony to pay attention to him on every event where another needed the affection of the caretakers... or stern correction — both which were reluctantly offered to him with muttered prayers to the gods in hopes of improvement... before steadily being given less and less over the years.

He knew that nopony liked him. He knew his parents abandoned him due to the unexplainable lack of magical ability because that is what he concluded, and he just knew it was true because one day the feeling washed over him and wouldn't let go. From that day forward, he voiced his new 'realization' of deliberate abandonment to anypony who would listen and rebuked every correction with the insistence of his emotional truth. It gripped him like a strangling fixation — one he welcomed and fed with all the care and eagerness he'd never shown any creature before. 

Sometimes Onyx's most subtle trait would emerge despite the utter lack thereof surrounding the rest of his nature: a hatred for authority that was as confusing as the rest of him. Nopony ever gave him anything but the most basic of orders, even when he was held as an unspoken outcast.

You would think somepony would take a closer look and properly analyze him — as if there was anypony with the specialty in the whole Crystal Empire, or anypony who knew just how bad things really were.

Nopony ever did. If life was a painting, Onyx was less visible than a muted background color that nopony ever thought was capable of too much trouble.

Why?

Because on the day Starswirl entered the Crystal Empire, Onyx was no more than a vaguely disturbing — for he really was just a child — an eight-year-old who never knew the world was bigger than the city in which he was born, even if it was all he knew. He would get his wish however gruesome and obsessive it was.

He could do magic somehow, there would have to be a power waiting for him — he was as obsessed with that as he was with his fantasies and obsessions of the circumstances that landed him in the orphanage. There had to be more than crystallokinesis out there.

Onyx actively lived for the day when he could make everypony in his small, minuscule, world suffer — where nopony would have the power to stop him and he would never kill another bird again.



...



The thing about wandering about in a city you know nothing about and in a place you know nothing about is that it's confusing. The smart thing to do is generally to stand still somewhere quiet and create a logical street layout in your head by calculating things based on the probability of the logical layout in general, then consider how terrain affects possible architectural variations of that layout, what could appear next, and all the data you should have been collecting to create a pattern of this unique location to increase the success of not wandering in circles. Starswirl did none of these things, and instead, he preferred to run through the streets still carrying his luggage on some sort of mental breakdown shouting half-garbled slurs. All the while, he was occasionally slipping into the language of arcane magic, which in turn was the active language of the Unicorn Court, having been carried with them from the time of the first settlers.

As expected, his head hit another lamppost.

Furious, Starswirl stared at the lamppost up and down yelling that it should remember to move aside for a noble, who was also a wizard, who was also superior in species. He continued to lecture this lamppost for a few minutes until he noticed that part of the crystals were wrapped around the edges of a parchment flyer of some sort, holding it open for all to see.




Clarity & Light's Orphanage is looking for donations!



Even in these tough times, the Crystal Faire still goes on.


As many of you know, we want the foals in our care to be able to open a pie stand like in years past.
Unfortunately, we barely have enough funds for this extra treat. All our other fundraisers to support the happiness and wholesome lifestyle of our wards had to be canceled due to the recent financial trouble we have been experiencing.
We do not ask for the funds themselves, we ask only for the supplies listed below. Please consider donating and remember the charity, love, and kindness our empire values.
Sincerely,
Clarity Alms & Light Seeker




He continued to stare at the paper, skipping over the list written, and instead peering at the bottom third of the paper: it had an address.

A land experiencing some economic woes.

A land filled with inferior ponies who cannot perform magic like Unicorns, being less than mud ponies.

An orphanage looking for supplies or financial aid. 

An orphanage filled with inferior orphans who cannot use magic run by two desperate ponies who live in a...

Starswirl scowled even harder than normal — he never smiled, he only scowled unpleasantly — and all the pieces began to fit together in his head.

All he had to do was lie, cheat, steal, and manipulate those who were suffering.

He re-read the address and peered at the street signs.

All he had to tell them was that he wanted an apprentice, to do just enough to get him a new slave, and to give them whatever they could possibly want to take an extra mouth to feed off their hooves. He had at least a year's worth of provisions to spare — and only needed to convince them it was in the foal's best interest.

The madness had only just begun, machinations resembling a twisted game of cards.

A wizard, a killer, a leader, and a dreamer.

The secret card in this game, however, was a wild card. An illegal fifth ace.

A demon.
> Part Two: The First Day of Their Lives
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Onyx read the book in front of him, brown eyes scanning the pages impatiently as they devoured every word which he half-whispered and half-mumbled under his breath. Both the sisters were gone, and he wasn't sure where, but they wouldn't come back this time. Clover had long since graduated and been given to Princess Platinum. But most important of all is that Starswirl was out, and would be so for a long while. Today was the day, who knew when he would ever get another chance to take his freedom? He was thirteen-going-on-fourteen, four and a half years older than when he arrived under the lie of being an apprentice.

The candles in the room flickered, their light wavering as they threatened to die. He couldn't let that happen, it had taken too much of the meager magic Onyx had just to light them. Already, he could feel what was left draining away as the spell continued. He just had to hope he could read in the dark.

Onyx gulped slightly, not in fear but in worry. He was never afraid.

He continued to recite the spell written clearly on the page letters thin, neat, and precise as knife strokes. This magic worked best with his anger and hate, as if this and other emotions were the infinite food source needed to perform such powerful spells, unlike the pathetic wisps of arcane magic he had picked up.

He knew it was the right time not just because of these circumstances but because of the cover of the mysterious book he found all those years ago in the library. The cover always had a new title and today it said 'Everything You Ever Wanted' in the same spidery letters that everything else was written in. If that wasn't a sign that today was his lucky day, then he wasn't sure what was. 

After all, who could argue with a book that said 'Everything You Ever Wanted'?

Nopony, Onyx thought, nopony at all.




...



4 years and 11 months earlier (Onyx is 9)

That wizard's a liar.

He never wanted another apprentice, he just wanted to trick somepony into doing a bunch of chores.

Stupid wizard, Onyx thought leaning against a covered shelf. He was in one of Starswirl's disused storerooms of old books. It was incredibly dark since the place was essentially a cellar, the floorboards not even having the decency — at least in Onyx's mind — to give off enough light to let him see his own forehooves and muzzle.

At least it could try to illuminate all the dust motes I know are in here. Onyx slouched against the bookshelf even more trying to pull the very damaged flour sack cloak around him.

Even though he was from the place, which was how he'd come to the Crystal Empire, it was almost unbearably cold here in the valley. He had to wear a shabby cloak almost anywhere, when he was able to get his hooves on one. At least he was fairly safe from being bonked over the head by a sword hilt or staff. Or from Solara taunting him by calling him a savage and other words — all bigger names he didn't know. And the stupid blue one calling him Kawblance when she bothered to speak at all.

Kawblance, Kawblance, Kawblance! He hated it so much. He just wanted to go... go where? He didn't know.

Onyx closed his eyes and pictured mushrooms. He loved mushrooms, they were his favorite food even if they sometimes did weird things to his head. Unlike the place which was always rather clean, and of course shiny, the Magicspire was positively full of them. He was also fed rather poorly here and his weight loss should have been obvious to anypony who even glanced at him, except they never did. Onyx desperately wanted something to eat that wasn't stone-stale rye bread, mushrooms (however much he enjoyed them), birds, and of course that awful three-leaf plant that hurt his throat so bad the one time he ate it. Even though the birds were so good.

Wishing for all this food made his stomach hurt even more. Furious and desperate to get his mind off the glory that was edible substances he slammed his head into the bookshelf behind him.

Stupidwizardstupidmushroomsstupidfoodstupidponiesstupidstupidstupid. Stupid everything!

Onyx knew that to one day make everypony suffer he had to get better at this magic sort of thing despite the fact that he had no crystallokinesis... and no mark... and obviously no hope of ever getting one. After all. that's why his parents—Stop it!, He told himself, unsure of where these thoughts came from. He doubted they were his, and denied it.

Again he slammed his head against the bookshelf. This time a book fell on his face. A very big book. Strangely, there wasn't much of a resounding thunk. His face acted as a nice book-muffler much to his chagrin. Onyx bit his tongue to keep from making any noise because if you have ever had a big, ancient book fall on your face you would know how much it hurts. After this lovely incident, he thought it might be best to remove the book that was balancing on his face. Onyx discovered the book was as charcoal-colored as he was. It was also glowing a purply-green that he had never seen before. The cover simply stated 'Read Me'.

Without a second thought, he did.



...



Onyx swallowed again, his throat was getting sore. He hated feeling pain of any kind, to him pain was always for others. A purple mist was streaming from around the edges of his eyes, and his world had taken on a stronger green tint than when he normally read this book. He glanced at the spell again. It said it was a true and permanent species-changing spell but the letters were growing a bit blurry and his legs began to shake. 

Onyx felt tired but kept on going.

Earth pony. Pegasus. Crystal pony. Bear. Dragon. Sirens and sea ponies were there too, even though Onyx just thought they were made up for bedtime stories in the Crystal Empire and nothing more. Yak. Moose. There were more than a few others he didn't know, and one of the equines was definitely missing — or so he thought — but it didn't matter because it was only the one he focused on that mattered:

The unicorn, the most powerful race written there, and Onyx's means to fuel his greed.

Magic.

Power.

Revenge.

Bloodshed.

Eventually, the whole room began to glow, and so did he.

Onyx couldn't even tell if he was laughing, crying, or screaming when the spell slowly burned away his body one atom at a time.

After that he wasn't just Onyx anymore, somepony — something — was created from this spell along with a new body for this new pony. Because of this, Onyx was reduced to viewing the world through eyes that were never his, controlling somepony entirely new half the time. Though he would see a face that had never been his and speak with a voice not his own to carry out dreams that were held only by Onyx alone, he thought the stranger was the voice when it was he who was the more parasitic of the two.

Although he never says it like that, to him this pony wasn't a real life at all. The one who would become known as Sombra was just a weapon in the second part of Onyx's life.

Onyx began what he thought was the first day of his real life.

It was a day marked with the blood of Starswirl the Bearded.

Then, with an enormous, violent, and almost uncontrolled burst of dark magic, there was a chink formed in the wards out of this valley. To Sombra, this is where he felt his life began: looking out on a blurred world of white from the top of a mountain. It wasn't technically true, his life began two days before, but at the same time, it was all the truth he needed to know at that moment.

Like eyes, the stars followed these two equines as they made their way out into the world where so much could begin...

...And so much more could end.
> Part Three: Voices of The Past
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Whatever you are, you're going to sit there and let this story pour into your head like liquid metal. Isn't that a pleasant thought? I bet it will keep whoever you are — whatever you are — quiet for a while. If you're there at all. I know you are. You have to be! It's been dark here, so very dark, for what has to be ages. If anything is around me, it's big and cold. I can't be the only one here. I don't remember how many times I've said anything or everything. I just want to talk to you and control, just like I do him. I have to control somepony, and I know you're there. Something's here, right? 

Please, just don't let me be the only one. I talk and talk and talk, and you're going to listen. That's all we can do here. You're with me. You're real. We listen. We listen to me. I cannot move. Can you? Is anypony out there?

Maybe you're new. Maybe you change, I can't see you; I can't tell. I could start over, I could start with something. I think you're simple, so I'll start simple — as simple as I think you are — which is most likely all of you. I'm not the stupid one between us. Only stupid ponies would not listen to me, because I can control them. They would not disobey me, because I can violate their minds, and have their bodies tell them hurt things, and that they feel violated in the ways all the foolish mares who must've crossed Starswirl probably do. Or both, I can control and I can inflict. 

Sombra is stupid, and you're not Sombra, but you're probably like him... wherever he is. I used to feel him here, and I need him. I've always needed him. He suffers so perfectly. It was together that he and I... well, it was really just the king, and Sombra was not the king... maintained the sadistic wrath I had to bring to the crystal ponies. There's such a rush to be had in the pain of somepony else, their death, their sadness... I need it all.

For eight years, I had it all, and my mind was different enough to matter. I feel hurt now. Those two sisters, the ones I thought I'd never see again, and certainly never see grown, had returned. They stormed the castle... I fought Solara... I took control... Then Sombra did and...

I woke up here, and I don't have my body. Sombra has to be here because sometimes I can feel him; he's always so far away, and I need him again. This is his fault, and I have to worm my way into him again and hurt him for what he's done.

I feel all mushed up inside. I was King Onyx, but I used Sombra's name. Everything he thought he had needed to be taken from him, and you understand this, right? You should, you have to! I tell you all the time! I don't feel entirely like the king, my magic's wrapped up all around me and I don't know what to do. I can't use it, I might've tried. I don't remember, I don't! What do I remember? It's all before this, and I feel and see it all the time. I tell you all the time. I feel like Onyx. I might have cried. I can't remember.

I'm not alone. I remembering. I only want to hurt somepony.

Please, listen. I'll tell you all over again!


...


I never cared what would be the results of the spell, I just wanted—

Stop. You stop, I'll stop, just do it! Okay, I'm not sure if this is working. Have I said things differently before? I always remember everything... I don't remember anything. There's no sun or moon here. Maybe, I just need to do something differently. There's so much from before to remember! I don't even know if this is going anywhere, it's hard to tell. I just started talking one day and didn't stop, I have no mouth to make sound, but I hear my voice everywhere. I've only been talking. It seems to be all I can do lately. Who cares if I'm just talking to myself? I don't. I'm crazy and somepony's listening. I'm still crazy. I was crazy as a king, too, but a powerful kind of crazy. I had all the wealth in the world and dominated all but death. Everypony has to remember how I hurt them, chained them, and twisted their minds.

The dead will not remember how cruel I was; the living will tell all the tales of King Sombra and the evil he was. I hurt Sombra just by using his name. I'm still evil, and I was evil before I was a king. I'm not sure what kind of evil I am now...  

There, that seems like it will be a good start. A new beginning, my third to be exact. Or perhaps my second. I don't remember. Evil has roots.

But I think I'll start with the simplest thing I know — other than my name: what I am.

I am somepony who likes to hurt others, who lusts for blood, or so I've been told. The pain of others is rich to me.

This...

This... is so weird, using my essence to send words and stuff somewhere... unfortunately due to being encased here, wherever this cold, icy place is... it's a long story...

It's a shame really, I miss the look of the edge of a knife. As the King, I had a whole collection of them and I took Sombra, and we found ponies. If I didn't enjoy them myself, I would have him—

Where was I? Umm...

I can still make jokes. I don't think those are very important, but I can.

And I remember how to hurt others, because all their faces flash before me, and the blood, and I remember...

You may be thinking 'Oh, but why would you ever want to hurt anypony, mysterious-voice-that-appeared-in-my-head?'

Well, I have something to say about that: don't ever question my motives again, or I will remove your skin and make it into an amusing hat. Somehow... I have always liked the idea. To wear the skin of another is chilling in all the best ways I can think of! I'm sure I can find you, too!

You're here because it amuses me, and that's all. I control you. Got it? You are my toy just through hearing this, and it makes me feel whole again. Well, almost. A soul still needs a body. Maybe when I get mine back it'll have something neat — like razor-sharp claws! — and Sombra might finally be gone from my mind and flesh. I might miss hurting him, though. There is something so close about causing pain like that in somepony, and intimacy in being the source of their suffering. I loved getting to take out everything on him.

I won't even be picky. I'd take anything over that thing in my head again, who acts like he can have a name. For ten years I had to know him. It. I don't even know why it's there — he's the other, the 'it', and the thing that came with the spell. The one that stole what the book gave me, my new curved-horn unicorn body and all its dark magic.

It is a backstabbing thief, that one. I don't even know where it came from, it just was there, but I do know that weapons aren't supposed to turn against those who wield them, and Sombra was the greatest weapon I could have ever wanted. Still, it complicated things from time to time...

Oh, look, I'm chattering again. I forgot I might have an audience to play with. You're listening, right?

It’s hard to stay focused when you have nothing around you, and the cold comes in constant stabs. It's dark always. There's not much to feel, and it hurts me. I don't want to hurt. I shouldn't be hurt. I'd gladly put somepony else in my place, but it doesn't work like that. Although, I might be able to destroy that weapon of mine and get what is rightfully mine back, including the Crystal Empire. First, gather around: it’s story time.

I'll start where most where it feels most appropriate: telling you whatever comes to mind. You've listened to that before. Haven't you all?

It becomes hard to forget anything, even if everything flows together in one big jumble. My mind feels like a bag of marbles, the glass and crystal orbs that the Tribes never had. I am lost as I feel blindly with my hoof and they all flow over me, cold, and... It's so, so hard to forget...

Anypony.

Any deed.

Any word.

You should probably stop being so afraid, though. He can't hear you. Or me. I know that much, but you should always be afraid of me. If you were to find yourself in my hooves, I would not hug you. I would grip your throat, and I would squeeze and love the sound of it...

But him? He can't hear, see, or feel everything that I do. The same goes for me. It's how I could hurt him. I just had to pull myself away from whatever linked our nerves, and he would still suffer alone.

However, I wonder if he has done anything interesting as of late. He can't be dead. We're still connected. Somewhere, we're tied together and knotted up by magic that will not sever. I feel the pull of the ropes; he feels that and their magic.

Alright then, I'll start in the Crystal Empire, at a time when I was no more than five winters old because I feel this one flowing back to me again. This was the only place I had ever known, other than the Magicspire, but that isn't to say I had a skewed sense of time. Not like I do now.

I'm just waiting for all time to end. 'S not like the world's gonna go on forever, right?

Agh, so much time. I've been around so loooooong.

But, back on track.

Even then, I knew that my many 'interests' were frowned upon — as in, I enjoyed making things frown...

And just suffer in general.

And cry.

And bleed.

And most of all, I loved making things die in very nasty ways.

There used to be so many birds in the gardens, and when those stopped coming, I would find them on the streets... along with lost pets...

Sorry, thinking of the good old days, was I? Ah, yes. Right. Foalhood. Well, I grew up in an orphanage just outside of anywhere relevant, closer to the city area of the Empire. That place was run (by my standards, quite poorly) by two cousins named Light Seeker and Clarity Alms. There were seventeen foals there, counting me, most of them from farming families, who I'm pretty sure were the cause of the crop blight that brought about this recession and couldn't feed all their foals. Before the rule of the current queen, foals didn't die of starvation, and nopony ever worried that their family was too big. That's what everypony said, even the history books did too. 

It had been too cold to go outside that day because of the latest snowfall in the Empire. A big blizzard it would be, that's what the Queen said. The weather did as it wanted here, and it was up to the ruler to stand on the castle's balcony and read the clouds when it seemed danger would come over the mountains. Only the Heart saved us, and later, but still way before I was born there were winged ponies that mixed with us. They didn't know how to craft weather, but they could rescue ponies, walk on clouds, and help wrangle the worst of the storms.

Some of the foals stared through the clear panes watching as snow collected outside, but they couldn't exactly see much. It was white blending into white in one big storm. I didn't watch the snow. That day I was wondering why our Queen — some idiot mare named Opal Charm — was not dethroned by now. She was the first mortal ruler ever, and had been ruling for nearly twenty years. I never knew what non-mortal ones were like, except that they were powerful Alicorns that were in all the boring lessons, tales, and expressions that ponies in the Empire used. You couldn't kill these weird Alicorn things, so I dunno where they went. What I did know was that things went bad shortly after Opal got her hooves on the throne. I mean, I usurped this entire country eventually, and nopony complained about my rule (and lived).

This hardship didn't stop ponies in the urban districts from adopting countless crystal ponies, even though I'm not sure even those ponies could feed them. The only ponies that really came by to adopt foals frequently anymore were what Clarity and Light called 'same-sex couples' or ponies that would be willing to take in foals as both family and live-in work. They came in to look at all the foals and take some home, only for the empty beds to be filled by another meaningless face a few days later.

That is when you learned the unspoken rules of this place: If you have no mark and are under ten, while still having crystallokinesis like pretty much everypony, you're normal. If you have a mark and are over ten, but don't have the native magic that gave basically all the other ponies around me their vibrant luster and so much more, you're probably a mixed-race foal. There weren't very many of them, but they would be considered normal enough, especially because once they married back into my race they could pass on crystallokinesis again. The Crystal Heart still worked on them, but usually only during the festivals.

If you're over ten and are one of the few that clearly have no 'hope' of ever getting a mark, and lack the magical ability, that meant even the Crystal Heart couldn't give me the shine of everypony else, that was bad. No adoption. Ever. I've seen those foals before, and every single one of them eventually got their mark... except me. They stay and stay, taking up bed space... but some run away. Most of them end up getting their marks really late, and they live normal lives. You can still tell they're Crystalline if you look at their eyes, but otherwise, they look unlike any type of pony in the Empire... and the Crystal Heart doesn't great to them. I've barely seen any foals without crystallokinesis, but those that I have always have the same eyes as everypony else, like that's all that holds them as part of this race. It's the only thing that makes me feel like a real crystal pony, especially when ponies can tell you aren't like the magic-havers before you even start puberty. Even Light Seeker, who had unicorn ancestors — I've never seen non-Crystalline unicorns and pegasi — and is mixed-blood filth was so much more of a crystal pony than I was.

I've been here forever, so of course I'd know. It was all true that if you were like me, you were doomed.

The hours ticked by on the clock that hung on the shiny walls, its crystal hands turning with every boring minute something extraordinary began to happen. A foal had gone missing, yet only I had noticed so far.

While Clarity was in the kitchen making a meager soup for lunch, Light Seeker came into the common room. She was a tall, thin mare with tiny spectacles. Her mark was a glinting ball of aura which you could say was appropriate; she was a trained healer and a former member of the guard. Those were some of the same ponies that dragged me home as super secretly as possible through the streets, plopped me at the doorstep with bits of blood still on my teeth, and told them about having to correct my carnivorous offenses.

This morning her mouth was turned downward in a frown, probably still worried about her herb garden out back. I had burned it down last week, which was a mercy killing in my mind. Her cooking was already bad enough without it. I must have saved the whole orphanage from food poisoning. Which is so strange really, because it would have been so much nicer to watch them suffer. Instead, everypony had looked a bit thinner lately and I had been scolded — not even yelled at, just scolded.

"Where in the Queen's name is Amber Waves?"

All the little foals looked around, eyes growing wide as they noticed that one of their ranks was missing. They had no idea. On a normal day, I wouldn't have really cared, since I'd have been too busy thinking up all the interesting ways the foals present could get hurt, or trying to play with them and they'd never let me, claiming that I hurt them. Or I'd have to play by myself in those years, and while I got to do what I wanted, it was so lonely. But violence helps heal those things, and nopony else knew the best places to bite into a bird, how to torture a kitten, or all the ways to torment the local husky pups. I was a big believer in the notion that what I didn't see didn't matter unless I wanted it harmed or dead... and both of those things were something that applied to most creatures. I flip-flopped a lot. 

Although, since today was a special day, I was sitting in a window seat looking positively gleeful, if anypony had bothered to notice me. Most of the other colts and fillies gave me a wide berth, even though I was very chatty. I'd corner them to talk often enough, and it became a battle of how quickly they could get away from me as I went on and on.

I pressed my muzzle to the window, in a way that concealed my toothy grin. Being me though, I didn't care about Light Seeker. I was too busy watching the snow outside fall violently on Amber Waves. She was one of the many farm-born orphans, and a winter older than me. She had a pale green coat and her glossy amber mane pulled into loose braids that never stayed tied. She was some filly I paid no attention to. Not until this day, when she was buried alive under the snow. She'd been out in the snow the whole day. At dawn she went unnoticed by almost everypony but me,  all bundled up and slipped outside eagerly waiting for the stuff to fall from the sky. For the first fifteen minutes, she had been sitting there shivering, looking as confused as ever before she pulled off all her scarves and started waving them around like they were wings. But now there wasn't much of her visible beneath all that snow.

It was such a joy to watch. After being bored for most of the week, I just wanted it to never end, it was like each flake was some mystic force that helped silence her forever when it fell.

Then things began to go wrong: I started to laugh uncontrollably.

Light Seeker came over and squinted out the window, narrowing her golden eyes while I kept on laughing the high-pitched wild and bubbly laughter of a seemingly normal foal, even though I was anything but this... 'normal' everypony wants me to be. It was the same laughter they had heard when I plucked feathers from a bird for the first time, and then broke a wing when I stepped on the stupid thing on purpose. I had laughed so loudly and was pulling anypony over to watch it hobble around, smiling and wide-eyed until I found out nopony liked it — and in fact, most of them cried and screamed. 

Unfortunately, all good things seem to come to an end, due to something stupid about mortality. Although even more tragic is that this was not Amber Waves' case as I watched Light Seeker dig through the snow, fear in her eyes. My happiness faded as quickly as it came, as it shattered like glass. I saw what else was there beneath those gold irises. Horror, more than I had previously seen in her gaze before.

I had to think fast. All the stares from bewildered foals pierced through me and it began to feel like I was shriveling on the inside even though I loved attention of any kind. I needed it, and I still do. Thinking fast, I rushed upstairs and snatched her blanket, an ugly quilt, off her bed before rushing back down to join the crowd now gathered around a shivering, near-frozen Amber Waves. Light Seeker was hovering nearby, whispering something to Clarity Alms who had joined everypony else, her hooves now wet with snow.

Amber Waves, much to my thinly veiled despair, was going to live. Clarity Alms and Light Seeker had dug through all the snow and brought her inside just in time. They said she had hypothermia. Amber wouldn't stop crying, at least that made me happy.

I pushed my way to the center and faced the stupid filly, offering her the quilt I wished was her funeral shroud and a signature demented grin. The second part was not to help her but to fake kindness so I could have a front-row seat to watch her uncontrollably blubbing. Nopony actually liked my smiles. It worked, and the memory still made me smile and filled me with happiness even as I tell it to you now. 

Three weeks later Frozen Waves was gone. She was adopted by a strange-talking glimmerless clan of red-and-green-and-orange-and-yellow ponies who wore equally strange clothes. They were gypsies with names mostly related to a fruit we didn't have in the Empire. They said they were from up north, as if anypony could live there. Passing through, they said, but they were so boring I didn't bother to listen to where they were actually heading. So I guess nopony can live up north, even these freaks. If they did, oh the commentary I could have made!

'They are taking the filly that nearly froze to death further north, are you ponies insane or do you just hate her that much?' That is what I would have said. I would have made a huge tantrum to go with it, once again acting as if I cared before running off and trying to come up with creative ways for her and her new family to die. At least, that's what I would do before I found a bird to keep me busy, since being creative is hard... and there are still so many birds here.

I still remember the names of their matriarch and patriarch: Jonagold and Paula Red.

Strange gypsies they certainly were. I wonder how they died.

Maybe they starved to death.



...



Four days after Frozen Waves was adopted everything resumed its usual amount of boring. I was doing what I always do: staying out of sight and amusing myself as best I could. The second part was usually the hard one. Boredom hurt worse than a cut, and somehow went deeper too. Today, that activity just so happened to be hiding in a barrel of crystal berries and eating as many food rations that weren't mine as I could, since it isn't like anypony can stop me.

"Alms, what are we going to do with that one?" Light Seeker's platinum-hued hooves paced the floor, visible only to me and my barrel with a hole.

"Onyx?" That was Clarity's voice. She always sounded as if she was asking a question, and could be as chipper as a sweet birdsong... at least, until birds saw me. Or the knife.

"Yes, Onyx." She hissed my name as if it were a hex that should not be spoken and I was not a topic for conversation. I knew from all the trouble that I caused them that there was no way they weren't used to talking about me.

I stopped nibbling on the crystal berries. Before, they hadn't been talking about anything important, but this... this concerned me.

Light Seeker continued talking. "He's so..."

"Troubled?" Clarity offered happily.

"As if he's the victim in anything Clair."

"How about 'frustrating'?"

"Clair, you and I both know that is an understatement."

"Morbid?"

Light Seeker's face must have brightened since her tone did. "Yes!"

"Well, Seeker, what's your point?"

Light Seeker kept running her mouth. Not only do I think morbid is an understatement, but it also hardly does my work any justice. "But as I was saying: What are we supposed to do with him? Our duty is to find loving homes for foals, no matter how difficult the times are. Nopony is going to adopt him, even if they could feed him and put a roof over his head. By the time he's grown, he'll surely be killing ponies. Nopony under this roof has abused him. We do everything we can to take care of him and educate him. Yet, there isn't a doctor or soul in the Empire who could help him or diagnose him beyond telling us his behavior is wrong. Even if somepony like that existed, I don't know how we could afford such a service, or if we could tell them how he got this way — gods know, I haven't the faintest clue as to why he's like this. The little creature is troubled in the mind, but it's not like there's anywhere in the whole gods-damned Empire for those with his kind of troubled mind... except convicted and before the throne. His kind of troubled isn't something I've ever seen in a foal! And it's hardly a 'troubled' mind when the lad's the one hurting and eating and... oh, it's so terrible Alms."

She was lying, right? I actually thought about being adopted before, although not often, I just thought that somepony like-minded would just come in and I'd walk out. I couldn't be stuck here forever, right? Surely there's somepony out there who enjoys the same things I do. I knew that I'd been abandoned on purpose, but I didn't think I was going to be abandoned forever...

Light Seeker's hoof began to tap impatiently, and a few moments later I heard a snort from Clarity Alms followed by her calm voice. "Light, I'll admit what he did to your herbs was awful, but it's nothing we haven't seen before. Foals love to mess with gardens."

"No, Clarity, it's not about the garden — and you know that he did more than 'mess' with it. Don't think I haven't found the corpses of those birds of his. It's frightening what he does to them and the other animals The fines we get for his cruelty and disordered meat-eating are things that any other foal's home would have turned him out onto the street for." She paused before continuing. "He's nothing but a monster, and I don't know why we keep him around, save for the fact that he is a child with nowhere to go. I've spent half my life battling winter drakes and helping ponies through storms — protecting others — and he's still the only monster I've ever seen. I couldn't find anything in the library about ponies like him at his age — what few instances of those like him the Empire has seen were criminals that were executed for their heinous crimes. Onyx only has juvenile offenses and the guards understand our situation."

Another pause.

Clarity decided to break the silence. "The truth is nopony can handle him, Light, nopony can understand him. By old Ezmeralda's eyes, we have got to let things play out. We can get him involved in more activities. Maybe the next time we try a buddy system, his buddy will stay. The perfect friend for him could wind up under our care the very next day. He's still just a colt. Have some hope. We've had tough cases before. Youth full of anger, cider, hurt they took out on themselves, and more. Youth with nightmares and fading bruises. Youth with peculiar conditions and social woes."

Ezmeralda. That was the name of one of the ancient Alicorn rulers of the Crystal Empire. She was the daughter of the first King and Queen and was said to be able to see beyond some of the constraints of time.

Yet, there was still that other word, which I thought was much more confusing.

'Hope.'

I have no idea exactly what it is, even to this day. I just know that it is something that you can break over and over again until it finally runs out and you're left with nothing. I suppose hope is like a candle: it burns out one day. I've seen it fade from the eyes of ponies, but I have never known it.



...



Light Seeker said that she feared I would start killing ponies. She lived to see it come true and died by my efforts, but she never knew it was me. That did sound delightful, but if you know anything about me, it's that I had many plans for revenge on my mind. But you, stranger, have some idea of what came next now, don't you?

I think, somehow, you already know about the blood on my hooves... and Sombra's too.

You know how it all got started, so I think I'll skip those parts. Instead, I'll tell you about one of my earliest days with that Thing, who is the very reason I'm caught in this strife when I should still be a king forever.

The very strife he belongs to. Forever.

But do you really know what came next?

After I read that book?

Do you really know what 'Sombra' is?

Do you even hear me? I still wonder if you're real...

There was a year of ice. A year of snow. All that before I even got my crown.

From the very beginning, he did nothing but get in the way.



...



I was almost fourteen when I left that valley, and Starswirl was finally dead. It was time to trudge south but almost five years in that place had muddled some of my sense of direction, but I couldn't let that stop me. It was time to return to the only other place I knew and finish whatever it was that I started.

My hooves and coat, though mostly obscured, were bound in rags and fur scraps to keep me warm but oh, how my eyes ached. I couldn't tell whether it was night or day. Every race of ponies has their various attributes — pegasi can do more than craft weather and walk on clouds, unicorns can do more than magic and purify water with their horns, and crystal ponies can do more than crystallokinesis or connect to the Crystal Heart. Unlike the former and the latter, there were things that all of us could do —  many of us were resistant to cold, but the eyes of every one of us made us immune to snow blindness. Old Crystalline myths said that there was another race of pony that shared those two traits, but I never paid enough attention to the stories — if they were gone, how could they matter? 

I can't say that I learned nothing at all in that valley. Perhaps the lesson I cherish most was 'How to Kill a Starswirl' since that's what I was best at. This is by no means simple and took years of preparation, but was hardly difficult, I mean I did do it all by myself after all... and I don't know what could be difficult with my power. That would be the complete truth right there. But, yes, all you need is half a decade of pure hatred and bring it to a boil. Next, I remembered to add one very important spell from the best book ever into the mix. And to think I did it all on my own. Yup, impaling him with those weird rocks was all my idea, and so was escaping the valley.

Sure, it was all rather improvised in parts... but I was ready for this. That spell had given me magic, a new body, voice, and power—

If you stop monologuing, we could actually get something done.

Oh, yeah and...him.

This guy.

This guy.

If you ever find that book that I used to get like this give me the part where it says you have to deal with the ego breezie (I read about those back in the Crystal Empire). He — my weapon, my living, magic, weapon — actually began to think that this life is his. Eventually, he would become my favorite slave... and a very personal and special slave at that.

I brought a new, now lusterless, hoof to my face and wiped away another river of tears. I cried easily, and I always hated that about myself — every time I got angry or demanded something back at the orphanage, or even at the Magicspire, I ended up with an angry tantrum. However, these tears weren't from any feelings. I don't know why I was crying. It wasn't like I was trying to, I was squinting at the Arctic plains, with the Magicspire's mountains not far behind me.

So, crier, do you have a name?

“Huh? Oh, it's Kawbl… I mean, Onyx. It's Onyx.”

How long was it that I could forget my real name? It felt so good to have it back though, knowing that I'd never have to hear anypony say Starswirl's name for me ever again. I'd always been apathetic to my name until that wizard stole it from me. 

My name is Sombra.

Huh? Oh, you. Wait, why is that your name? How did you get a name as weird as that?

'More importantly', I wanted to add, 'why do you need a name at all?'

It is what I picked, he 'said' indifferently.

From what, that old book? Actually, don’t tell me I don’t want to know.

It isn't like I care.

I trudged on a few more steps, trying to push through the snow. He and I could not hear all our thoughts, but this wasn't enough to cause me to worry. After all, it wasn't like I sold my soul...



...



I didn't sell my soul. I destroyed my body. Little did I know, it wasn't even mine anymore. Sure, it grew from where mine 'left off' but it wasn't mine. I like it when things are mine. It means I'm in control of me, not Starswirl, not Clarity, or Light Seeker, not anypony else. Especially not this 'Sombra', who wasn't a pony at all.

But look, you don't need eyes to see... just look at what 'Sombra' did to me!

Huh? Silence again? Is that all there is here, silence and cold? I thought I felt you, in this state I'm in, all I can do is feel. I swear, you were just there. Fine. I'm just some stupid colt. And that's all I'll ever be, right?! I used to be a king!

Whatever.

Ugh.

I'll keep talking, I guess.

I like the sound of my voice... even... even... even if it's not the same anymore.

The silence ought to fade a bit...


...



I continued on pushing through the tundra with my hoof constantly clearing my eyes of tears. I still had no good answer as to why they were there. When Starswirl was with me for a year as we journeyed across the Arctic, he sheltered his eyes during the daytime. I never had to. He told me it was because my race was built for labor and not nobility. 

The mountains were getting smaller, but not vanishing. Either I was slow, or the southeast was far. Or maybe he was the slow one — somehow. Perhaps I could just blame all my problems on the voice that called itself Sombra, it wasn't like I ever needed to justify anything I did. He was the perfect scapegoat, after all. Things were boring out here anyway, without anypony to hurt, I would get miserable very fast if there was nothing fun to do. He's powerless to stop me anyway... and I really like that.

Pretty soon, all I could do was hold one of my forehooves over my intensely watering eyes as I fumbled around the Arctic North like a blind pony in silence. I hated silence almost as much as I hated this weird crying. I wanted it to stop. I wasn't supposed to be a crybaby anymore. 

Sombra, my eyes hurt.

What do you want me to do about it? So now he suddenly decided to show up from wherever he slithered off. What a freak.

Fix them, I demanded.

You idiot, your dark magic can't be used to heal you. If you weren't so reckless as to stumble out here barely prepared, then we might have had some more supplies instead of just grabbing a few things and—

Okay, I get it! Blah, blah, blah all you want. I'll find a stupid cave when night comes!

Why was he always so annoying?

No.

I drew in a sharp breath because he wasn't supposed to contradict me. What do you mean 'no'?!

At least he can't rise to Starswirl levels of awful, right?

Being out unprotected like this in the sun is what caused this. Based on what information I've gathered about snow, we should travel at night. Find a cave and then unpack the food.

I stopped walking, suddenly confused. What food?

When I heard his voice next it was barely holding back rage.

You. Forgot. The. Damned. Food?!

Hey I'm plotting murder and revenge on a grand scale, you forget the small stuff. No worries though, it isn't like we'll starve to death.

He snapped, and I swear I could feel the fourteen-year-old voice in my head scream, although I can't imagine why.

NO, OF COURSE NOT! THAT'S ONLY EXACTLY WHAT WE'LL DO!

At least I think he was fourteen, right?

I smiled at his anguish. I won't die, of course, I'm not like that, although 'Sombra' could go ahead and do so. There are so many wicked fates he could meet! So many to choose from, and I feel dizzy with delight.

Well, it's not like you'd know what to do, being a stupid voice that's only a few days old. Just try and tell me one thing you think you know.

I know I'm smarter than you.

His tone was so sure... and my delight was crushed, but I wouldn't let him know that. I wouldn't let him know a lot of things. Maybe I accidentally let him see my thoughts about what I thought was causing my teary eyes. No, wait, he actually knew that for sure. 

But this was the moment when the raw feeling hit me, as soon as he said those awful words. It hit me harder than the crystals that killed Starswirl. It was the moment I realized: I HATED SOMBRA.



...



I should have seen everything coming, right? He played me the entire time and was actively plotting my downfall, I swear it! You believe me, right? Of course, you don't. I'm not even sure if you're real... but I wish you were, that you're not just me... slipping. Please, please be real.

He had all the winning cards yet... at the same time, he didn't...

How?!

Even when he was a barely original nothing... he just kept climbing. Or something, he did something. I'm not quite sure what, though.

How was I surprised when he stabbed me in the back? I know his type, thinking that they are better than everyone else, without even killing them. His types always need to indulge their ego, yet not through murder. And those like him are never ever satisfied with anything, right? What else could he be? 

What else?!

Maybe I can knock him back down though...

Maybe... one day.



...



By late afternoon I had found a cave.

By late afternoon I had a cloth strip tied around my eyes from the pain.

What are we going to eat?

Here was 'Sombra' all high and mighty and acting as if we were two entities, or were we one and the same...? No. He was a stupid, worthless sword and I was the one who wielded him. I just had to stop thinking of him as a living, breathing, and thinking creature. He was an instrument of bloodshed.

My clothes, if I have to! I responded impatiently. 

Boiled or grilled?

Ignoring him, I pulled the cloth scrap from my teary, pained eyes and slumped against the cool stone wall.

Aww, poor little Onyx is crying! Sniff, sniff! Or are you such an idiot that you believe we can eat those tears of yours? Truly, your idiocy knows no bounds.

"Shut it," I mumbled aloud. How could anypony think I would cry? I don't cry, I'm not supposed to cry. I'm not strong when I cry. There are only two types of ponies that cry: weaklings like Frozen Waves, and ponies who are about to die.

I'm neither, right?

He was quiet, for once.

I concentrated on finding food in all this snow, one hoof tapping on my horn. It still felt so strange to me then.

Maybe I could try to use some magic...

After all, magic is the perfect way to get what I want. Unlike other stuff, it doesn't have any consequences. That's how the unicorns and those two wicked sisters used it. What else could its true purpose be for other than taking things or hurting things?

I bared my teeth and tried to look up at the horn on this new body, and concentrated on the thought of bread. It's a simple food, right? And it is one of the only foods I can ever recall eating. Purple smoke streamed from my eyes, but it didn't hurt.

Hmm, a large loaf will do. I don't think I've eaten enough in five years with Starswirl, but at least this new body isn't as underfed as my old one. Maybe even slightly toasted bread... with butter.

I felt a large amount of aura gathering on my horn, relishing in its power.

Oh! Maybe a cabbage loaf, I really liked—

"AAAARRGGHH!" The aura-sphere that was now the size of a crystal house ripped away from my horn, catapulted forward, and tore through a hunk of the cave, blasting an awkward gaping passage in my wake.

"What the..."

Wow, Onyx! I rate that one a ten out of ten! Clearly, dark magic is best used for attempting to conjure cabbage loaves! You could be a world-renowned mage at this rate.


Wind whistled by and I crept over to the hole as carefully as possible.

On the other side was a small somewhat abandoned camp, now strewn with large boulders and liberally covered in singe marks. Three woolly, horned creatures with slightly gaunt frames were crushed beneath the rocks, although their tents and weapons remained in good condition scattered about the rocky nook of a campsite.

As I browsed the embers of a long-cold fire I recalled hearing tales about a fortress nation of non-ponies roughly nine days away from the area where we were. I couldn't remember their name though and travelling there would be a very foolish decision for multiple reasons. One of which I remembered immediately: they were a warrior nation that was distrustful of outsiders. 

The camp provided an explanation for the thin appearance of the woolly creatures: it appears they had been out of food for a few days. Barely a trace of hay or any food staples could be found. But not all was lost. There was still a way to survive.

I trotted up to the largest of the dead yaks — that was what they were called — whose tawny coat was matted with small splotches of blood from the rock debris I had accidentally thrown about. 

Smiling, I thought: Food is food.

Sombra stayed silent and I’m glad he did. I just wish he had stayed that way.

Forever.



...



Two entire cycles of the moon had passed since that day, and I had grown taller and stranger. Dare I say that I had even become an evil magelord with an entire empire bound to his will? Well, no. At least not yet. I hadn't even come close to discovering and controlling all the new things I might be able to do. But at least I had supplies now, especially a tent for when there were no caves to shelter in or rare groves of trees. There had been enough leftovers at the yaks' camp for me to plunder plenty of things. 

Snow was scattered as far as the eye could see with nothing but ice and rocks. But even the rocks were not as common and the snow overtook all. It was always blank out here. I hated that, and not just because it reminded me of my year in the Arctic with Starswirl, back when I thought he was really going to make me his apprentice. When I control everything, I'll take over the weather somehow and make it obey me as well.

I hadn't figured out how to combat the teary-eyed affliction from the snow in the day and thus was reduced to traveling at night just like Sombra wanted. I hated that too.

I was quite sure I was fourteen now, and according to whatever sense of direction I had I was still trudging south. That was close enough to the general direction I needed to be going. There weren't many landmarks outside of the Crystal Empire, but I'd been this way before, even though it had been years ago. 

Traveling made me tired a lot and I never got much sleep with how uncomfortable everything was. I'd never been used to comfort, but at least every place I'd ever stayed at had something decent to sleep on that was warm enough. Now, I had to use magic to keep warm. Even Starswirl had brought supplies with him when he came to fetch me. Still, my discomfort was nothing compared to all of the strange things that had been happening. Every few days I would black out and wake up to someplace unfamiliar. However, since everything looked alike I could not be sure if this place was as unfamiliar as I thought or just as boring as everything else. It wasn't like there were many ways to stay entertained out here. 

Food was also something that was more accessible once you stopped caring where it came from. That is when I ate at all. The Arctic had plants that I sometimes stumbled across and took as much as I could. Other times, I resorted to eating creatures, whether they were as small as a fox or hare... or a larger creature that took more work to dispatch, like a yak. Yet I never starved, no matter how little I ate or how sick meat made me. This body could handle less food than my old one... but I still felt hunger pangs from time to time.

No matter what, everything was just rocks, ice, and snow as far as I could see with this stupid blurry vision. Anything else was something I found purely by accident, yet with how full my supplies were staying, it was like I had been running into plant-filled places that I couldn't remember. This whole place was very stupid and nothing ever happened that was worth my attention. I don't understand how ice-drakes lived out here. If I had another pony here at least I could find an interesting way to 'dispose' of them to keep me from becoming bored. 

Today’s travels were just more of the same and the boredom created by that gnawed at me like a sack of angry raccoons. The sharpness of the boredom really hurt and I felt angry enough to break something, just for the sake of smashing something over and over again with how unfair all of this was. 

Snow and ice over here.

Snow and ice over there.

Snow and ice everywhere!

Freaking. Everywhere.

It came and went throughout the day.

Yeah, today I refused to travel in the night. There were times when I did that, mostly because the night was too cold and boring. However, I’d never tell him this. He'll figure it out soon enough. But maybe this hurts him too, if that's true then I don't care if this was hurting me as long as I could hurt him too...

What worried me was the fact that not only did I 'black out' every few days but that this whole magic thing was so hard. It was as if it was a locked door that only flung open if I headbutted it enough. It wasn't as if I was unable to use it, I was just a bit 'limited' in places. Not weak.

I am not weak.

I will never be weak. I was never weak. I cannot be weak, right?

...Right?

Evening came and I still walked. I knew that I had been getting better with magic — it was the only way I had to keep myself busy, so I had nothing to do but get better at it. And just as I got better everyday, the winds that were blowing from the direction that I had come had become even colder — like, so cold that they even stood out in the middle of the Arctic nowhere I was in. 

I didn't like the night. It was dark and bland. Oh, but here I am reduced to traveling during the worst hours.

An eerie shrill neigh echoed behind me, one unlike anything that I had ever heard.

What did you do this time?

I acted as if I didn't hear him. By Starswirl's stinking corpse! What was that?

That is exactly what I want to know.

The snow around me seemed to grow thicker and rapidly form a funnel. Before I knew it a white spectre-like shape darted across the whirling cyclone, its eyes glowing a bright and pale blue-white in the low-visibility awfulness I'd gotten caught up in. As those horrible things shined on, I saw forehooves stirring in the snow, striking at the air. There was nothing about any creatures like these in any of the stories of the crystal ponies. 

I was closed in. 

Another shrill neigh was heard before a chorus joined it, making my stomach churn. The sound was coming from the northwest — where the Magicspire was left for ruin, where the unicorn, pegasus, and earth pony tribes had lived and rotted in their valley. 

More white streaks flowed into the cyclone and I glimpsed their angular, sharper equine features. Despite the strength of the storm, I caught sight of two ears just like mine and a muzzle so long and narrow it looked like a skull. Blazes and swirls marked the faces and sides of the raging spirits. 

There are more of these... these things?!

I shook my head. That wasn't important, right?

I don't care if it is, Onyx, but I'm definitely not going to hang around in here while you attempt to count past one. You've already shown me just how idiotic you truly are.

What are you—

I stopped caring about stupid things like limits and personal safety. The only thing on my mind killing these snowy beasts as brutally as possible, which should have been the only thing on my mind in the first place if it weren't for 'Sombra' and—

An ice-blast hit one of my forelegs and I jumped away, yelping in pain that I had been totally unprepared for. I was Crystalline! I was one of the ones that could endure cold!

I screamed as loud as I could, all the hate in me welling up ready to be used. A sharp, painful blast with an iciness much like snow struck me in the left eye, muddling my vision. Suddenly my legs collapsed under me and pain ran through my veins. It was like 'Lene's beating all over again. I couldn't understand. The blast couldn't have hurt me that badly.

My nerves ran like fire before dulling completely and I could feel my consciousness fading and dulling as I became less aware every moment. What was happening?!

A voice used the mouth of what should have been my new body even though the slight trace of my old cadence was gone, clearly speaking with a voice that could only be—

"I wasn't lying when I said you were an idiot."

No, no, no, no!

"Now, I'd say 'may I have the honors' but..."

No longer in my control, the body that was once mine assumed a fighting stance, magic effortlessly sparking on the horn stronger than I could ever wish for in all my time of practice. It was one of the last things I felt that night.

"...not only is that not my style, but..."

You...!

"...It seems pretty clear that they're all mine."

Shadows failed to catch me as I plunged into the darkness.



...



Unfamiliar with this darkness, I waited, completely unsure whether I was dead or alive. Time passed like mountain winds until I felt as if I was the only thing that had ever really existed. This particular void — I know now it was not the only strange layer of the mind of Sombra and I — felt as if it would be my prison, forever and always.

Where was I? This felt like my mindscape... but in my confusion, I realized this was not any part I knew. Sombra could be doing anything out there, for all I knew he was already king and the Crystal Empire was already a land of neverending strife and missing out on all the slaughter. Sombra just had to go there after all, it wasn't like he had ideas of his own, and what more could a pony want than blood staining their hooves?

But... what of those two sisters? Did he ever see them again? I certainly never expected to, but I had to know — how did he handle them? What were their deaths? What tortures did they suffer? 

I had to focus on something real to keep myself together. I found myself trying to think of the events that led me here, starting from Starswirl's murder and finally Sombra. He put me here.

He was the one responsible.

That was real.

Oh, but you know what else will be real?

All the blood I'll spill.

He is still a weapon after all, and I am the one who wields that weapon.



...



Yes, I am sure whatever you are you have never been forcibly sealed away in a mindscape. You start going into brief periods of panic. If you're like me, you never had any prior knowledge of what was occurring. It tears you apart and you become unsure of what to feel. Time seems to stop.

It’s like being pushed out of life itself yet you still exist. You go through spouts of loosely jumbled thoughts that you could not tell if they were yours to begin with. Memories are the only things that are unclouded.

Memories of hate.

Where I am now is similar, but more than anything I am wrapped up in myself and aching and burning for a body again. I feel ill. The void of the present is different.



...



Unsure if I could do anything other than think in this void, I reached out with my thoughts, only to find myself...

...in control...

...and back on my hooves...

Signs of a magic duel were everywhere, and I wasn't in the same place I was. My left eye was blurred and wounded still. In terms of endurance, all my energy felt wiped out as if my 'return' had taken every bit of strength. My spirit was undamaged, though. I would still kill.

I guess that explains the blackouts.

Now that silence that I had heralded before was terrifying.

It was a silence I was powerless to fight.

...Right?
> Part Four: An Eye for an Eye
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sombra cocked his head to the side so his unbound eye could better grasp the specific slope of this particularly steep drop.

He sighed and stuck his tongue out as snow occasionally ruffled his overgrown black mane, revealing an inquisitive crimson eye. The left however, was bound with rags crusted with spots of blood, dull in comparison with its unconcealed neighbor who was as bright as a single star in a sky of black.

Sombra's customary frown deepened somewhat. If I slide down carelessly I could break my neck, which according to everything I know about normal ponies is a tad lethal.

He looked up at the sky, a gray smudge so even the stars he knew were behind them barely reflected off the crystalline-looking snow.

Sombra's frown vanished into a manic grin which exposed teeth that became slightly pointed when his magic acted up too much. "But since when do I care?"

He said even though he knew no reply would come. Again, he didn't care.

His curved horn started to glow with his familiar dark power; from the ground a somewhat rugged slab of äerint emerged, breaking off until it rested perfectly in the endless snow, tilted downward toward the unknown.

No time was wasted in jumping on.



...



"WAHOO!"

I was sliding down the steepest drop in all of the Arctic Wastes, gliding on a slab of the äerint crystals as fast as I could go, snow whipped by my mane as I swerved past the occasional rocks. The ragged brown fabric called a cloak flew behind me although, it felt strange not to have my bangs fragmenting my view.

Behind me the sun was setting bathing everything in a blue-purple hue. A few of the memories that were not mine included a sky with slashes of gray, like it was being drained of color. I didn't like that, and was glad that at some point this had changed and the sky now seemed as alive as the ground I walked on.

I may have been created only a few months ago, but I was learning everything fast and couldn't wait to find out everything else.

This part of the world seemed to be endless snow, the only memories of trees were not my own, but I'm sure I would run into one soon as these don't seem to be a rare occurrence.

Sometimes, when I thought about all these things it was almost like Onyx never existed at all... I couldn't help it, even if ponies were nothing to me this world wasn't. I wanted to see it and learn how it worked as well as make things, whether it be creating them out of existing objects or something as new as myself although not as great, nothing is as great as I am.

Onyx, who wanted to use me as a weapon. Onyx, who treated me worse than the snow on which I tread. The same pony who starved and almost killed me out of his sheer stupidity. He thinks I don't know any of this, when it's just the opposite.

My scowl returned and I checked behind me quickly before returning my gaze to the territory in front of me, which receded just as quickly as I saw it.

Peering ahead, I noticed that the landscape seemed to be broken by a large crack.

"Oh. A ravine. How utterly challenging an obstacle," I muttered sarcastically, all the while instinctively calculating the time he needed for the spell that came to mind as I nonchalantly surveyed the chasm's icy maw.

You think this world would actively try to screw me over by giving unbeatable physical obstacles, but nope, being undersupplied in a wasteland without a map is almost overrated if you think about it. But maybe it just has to do with me being better than everything, this world is mine after all. Mine to explore.

"Here goes nothing," I muttered, crimson-gray magic igniting on my horn.

In a flash I was gone, no longer gliding downward toward its gaping maw but instead standing on the other side staring down at my cloth-wrapped legs.

Unfortunately, this stretch of terrain was not a steep drop but a somewhat hilly stretch of - more snow. Which could get a bit boring after a while, even though I like snow, especially when it snows at night which makes it seem like the stars themselves are falling.



...



The first thing Onyx had 'used' me for was to kill one of the ponies that had caused him pain, and I knew that Onyx mostly killed for fun and had only used the Book to fuel his need for power. To make him a better murderer. I don't have any noteworthy objection to murder at this point, except that I don't really find into to be as fun as he makes it out to be and I didn't see the need to go around killing everypony on a whim even though I cared about nopony but myself.

I had noticed a lot about Onyx in the time I had known him. Onyx was a weak fool who had an endless bloodlust while I know that I have the potential to be one of the most powerful things the world has ever seen. Another opposite of I had picked up on was that Onyx disregarded everything around him and thought it boring.

But what about me? Well, even if it technically went against some more cynical aspects of my nature, I believed the world that he was in was astounding, even if nopony in it was.

Then there was the talking. Onyx seemed to have a need for it. I longed for total solitude, which even in this place was non-existent. Onyx may be silent for now, but he was still there. He was gone for now though, and while that was something, it wasn't enough and it would never be.



...



The night was still new and although I had no objection to silence, there was still something I needed to do.

Pausing for a moment, I reached into one of the sacks I had on my back and telekinetically pulled out a hoofful of a fuzzy green substance - moss -and began to nibble at it. In between bites, I recited all that I knew of myself with only the twinkling stars to listen:

"My name is Sombra, I am fourteen winters old, I am good with magic, I am a murderer. I am very snarky, I am a fast learner, I was created only months ago, and I am smarter then Onyx. I am a good fighter, I know lots about survival, My memories aren't always my own, and I am heading southward."

Most important of all is that I am Me. Nopony else. I am just me, stubborn as... as... somepony? ...okay, I'm stubborn.

I had stopped galloping and was now listening to the silence, broken only by my breath as I tried to blow my bangs out of my eyes. I couldn't believe how long my mane and tail had grown.

The hills around me seemed to gradually dip, as if there was a valley up ahead.

As I pressed onward, the land shifted and soon I stood on top of a large hill looking down at a woodsy expanse, yet I felt higher than I had on the mountains back north.

I looked around, slightly dizzy, noticing how the evergreen tree - yes that's what it was called - was joined by more of its kind who starkly contrasted against the snow with their green color. In fact, the slope I had come down and chasm seemed to be part of what could be a basin.

Once more I looked up at the sky.

Everything was so open I swear I could touch the midnight stars.

It was the sound of my own laughter that startled me most.



...



I felt lightheaded but could not explain why. Though it wasn't like I could heal myself - dark magic can't do that - even though it would have been so useful considering Onyx was such an impulsive, reckless, fool who put both himself and me through so much harm, I was starting to wonder if Onyx was not only an insufferable twit but an insufferable twit who was doing this on purpose. If the former, my ever-growing hatred for him is now deepening at rates so fast they're immeasurable.

I continued to frown and headed into the glen, dragging my hooves as I did so, I would go slower because who knew when Onyx would decide to take over again and steal the body that was clearly mine. While he was getting a bit better with the magic, I would always remain superior.

Though it wasn't as if I didn't have a plan, although it didn't make the present any less miserable...



...



I hated sleep because I never knew if I would wake up as myself or as the half-present reader to the mess of the a story that were the actions of him. I was so relieved to wake up collapsed in part of the grove that what surprised me most was not the incomplete freedom I'd get to have for who knows how long, but the smug smile in place of my typical scowl.

I still had months to go until I reached this 'Crystal Empire' where Stupid Inseparable Onyx was leading me as his half-willing accomplice. It isn't as if I can run anywhere. I didn't have something I could just kill and then walk away from.

You can't run from yourself.

You definitely can't run from a voice in your own head - especially one that controls you.



...



I had turned to look behind me for a brief moment when I unexpectedly made one bad step and immediately plunged through a tangle of thorn bushes. They mercilessly tore away the bindings on my left eye until it was running red with hot sticky blood as I screamed curses at Onyx, the wraith who had done this to me, and the pain until I collapsed completely, worn out from the madness that was my life. Even though I was even crazier than Onyx was.



...



"Ugh... what happened...?"

I wasn't sure how much time had passed, but the moon was still up and my head felt like Onyx had been talking for hours, when thankfully the reverse was true.

"At least Onyx is still silent," I muttered, promptly getting up.

This was a decent forest alright, fern-covered and cool.

Igniting a levitation spell, my possessions floated around me a moment before I went to find a clearing.

My cloth-wrapped legs were stiff and achy but otherwise nothing seemed too bad. Bruises and cuts could heal on their own. Those influenced by dark magic can never heal themselves.

I plopped everything I had against a fallen log and began to rip the moss off of it, stuffing it and any other plant I could find in any of the loose sacks I carried.

I had to do everything important, and maybe for the better. Onyx would kill us both if it weren't for me.

I know that both of us are ponies, but he is the impatient and bloodthirsty one. It’s not like I have anything against murder though, just against his way of doing things. Sometimes I wonder if his existence is just to kill, again, no objections - but at least I have a personality, am I right? Of course I am. I'll show Onyx. This is my body and my mind. He's just a soul now. I'm smarter, stronger, and more powerful and I know I can win.


Because if there is one thing I'll never do, it's lose.



...



Pools of unfrozen water are rare here. So I was very surprised when I found one off to my right, a perfect reflection to the stars rippling gently. I had never seen one with my own eyes before. The only other water like this I knew of existed in those memory copies. Despite the fact that the memories were his, I had my own thoughts about them and my own interpretations on the pathetic excuse Onyx had called his life.

I would see the world with my own two eyes, while he would barely even be able to get glimpses of it while trapped in the strongest prison that ever existed.

Unfortunately, his prison is me and my prison appears to be him...

I stood up on my achy legs and went over to get a drink. It was only water that came from a town or something that was particularly bad, I think. I really shouldn't be trusting water of all things, but right now I didn't have much of a choice, even though sometimes I swear I don't need to eat or sleep.

Plus I wanted to wash the bindings for my left eye and have a bit of a break from looking at this blackness...

I peered in closer to the pool.

If it can reflect stars in the sky, can it reflect me? I wondered.

Cautiously, I crept up to the edge and looked, relatively nervous at what I might see.

"It worked..." I breathed, astounded.

Inside was a tall gray colt with a curved red-tipped horn. His shaggy black mane was so long it hid some of his face. While on the other hoof his tail was long enough to trip on. The faint smoky expression he had was caught between cocky and curious. When I flipped my bangs aside I was able to see one crimson eye was wide with a tangled net of emotions: wonder, determination, intelligence, mischief and if I looked close enough, wrath.

Using my magic, I unwrapped the dirty binding that was all that protected my injured eye from the rest of the world. I knew that I had to wash the blood off this thing if I ever wanted it to remain uninfected and have a chance at healing.

The rag with its dull brown hue and blood stains fell out of my grip as the force holding it disappeared distorting the surface for a moment as it drifted around, dark black-red splotches tinting the water.

"No..."

My reflection changed, no longer bearing the look of cockiness it had only a moment ago was horrorstruck. There was no more wonder or mischief in my eyes. Instead, both of them only burned with seething wrath.

"ONYX, YOU BASTARD!"

Even if it wasn't milky, my left eye would see only black. Forever. It would never heal because I can't heal it, and because nopony would ever think to heal me. To them I'm just an unintelligent being lacking any form of sapience. Those ignorant parasites would brand me as a wicked creation mimicking life by my origins alone.

What would Onyx do when he found out when I was blind? He viewed me as property, but even worse is that to him I was property he couldn't discard and he had worked his whole life to get, and would hardly take it kindly to me being 'broken' in his eyes even though he's tried to break my mind before, and never with any success. I was unbreakable.

If he found out would he gouge out my eye? I wondered. Both my eyes?

It would hurt him too, but I could see him doing it. He was cruel enough. 'If it doesn't work,' I could see him saying in that shrill, leering voice of his, 'why should you have it?'

I know that no matter what way he would overreact if he found out, even though it was his fault I was injured in the first place. I would be fine with just one working eye but that didn't excuse anything he would do! Onyx never had a logical reason to do anything, however much he thinks he does.

First he stole my freedom. Next he stole my identity. Now he stole half my sight.

But there was one thing I could do... if I work out some sort of reflecting or mirroring enchantment for when he is using my eyes, it would make him think I still had perfect sight. Onyx was also weak-minded enough that creating a sort of mental barrier to prevent him from learning about this would be too easy... I could work out something like this tonight.

The rest of the world would be blind, but I never would be.

Because Onyx would never win and I would never lose, and it just so happened I had all the time in the world. Rage continued to burn through me, so much raw power that was all mine.

I left the glade the same night, seeing no need to stay.

I left it burning, flames roaring and leaping desperately at the air while clouds of ashes danced in the air, the misery to the fire's vengeance.

And me?

I was a red-eyed shadow walking across the snow, the left side of my mouth curled up into a sinister smirk as the stars in the sky seemed to scream of all the sins I had yet to commit, however unwilling or willing each deed was.

I felt better now.

So.

Much.

Better.
> Part Five: Scarlet Sky
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Celestia stood on the marsh, in her mind she was alone her maging bursting forth and enveloping her horn in a golden-white burst of light. She opened her fierce magenta eyes and watched proudly as the sun steadily began its descent.

Purposely, she kept it slow on its course. She had been leading the former tribes ponies to the land south, which they previously believed to be either non-existent or destroyed. The currently absent tribal leaders and their advisers would meet her at 'the tallest mountain they had ever laid eyes on'. Their age was ending.

Celestia knew that mountain, for it was not unknown to her. She had already been at the Unicorn Court trying to help with the winter brought forth by the windigos. Her sun, which was how she had come to think of it now that she alone was the one who moved it instead of thousands of unicorns doomed to die. Celestia could still remember the first time she raised the sun - which was also, when Luna and her found the Tribes. They had only been fillies of 11 and 14 mortal years then. 

After that came the Unicorn King's decree: the mysterious fillies would be assigned a guardian. That guardian was Starswirl - who at the time was young and had no beard-an obscure (and unpleasant) hermit with the biggest knowledge of mystery and magic the unicorns had. And so they became the wizard's adopted daughters whether he liked it or not, while in reality he and everypony else treated them like mere apprentices which suited Celestia just fine.

Indeed she would go to Mt. Canterhorn, and guide the procession of a few million-some ponies with her.

From behind her a streak of flaming orange flew, a blur to the nobles murmuring praises at her feat. Their praise turned to shock when the flying flame perched on Celestia's back, now still, revealing herself as none other then Philomena the phoenix.

Celestia allowed herself a small smile as she caught sight of her friend.

Philomena chirped and squawked out a message only she and Celestia could understand.

Instinctively Celestia's composure returned, both part of her calm, mature nature and the affects of hanging around the Unicorn Court and other political activities.

She turned to the nobles of all tribes, who were eager to find a 'new', better, home.

"All is well towards the rear of the party, my sister has ensured this."

Like a flock of birds the nobles resumed their chatting, although the song they sung was not sweet. She heard every awful word they said about her sister.

Trying to stay at collected - on the outside - she turned away from them, Philomena on her back and kept walking glad that her shimmering, multicolored mane hid her expression.

Her coat may have been white with the faintest hint of pink but young Celestia's face was as red as the sky was, sun still setting.



...



Luna inhaled deeply, and exhaled softly taking in her surroundings. They had left that dreaded frozen waste. They really had, and now after all these years she was going home with all the family she had at the moment: her sister.

She should be happy but instead as she walked silently across the tundra that had long since become a marsh she had crossed so many years ago she knew she wasn't.

She looked up, turquoise eyes locating the end of the procession of the ponies descended from ones who fled from the same lands they were returning to a couple millennia ago.

Starswirl was not among them, and that simple truth relived her. She had not seen him throughout the entire journey and she never wanted to. Luna hoped his valley was frozen over.

The thought of her happiness that should have been continued to nag her. She was going home. Shouldn't she be happy? They had even found ponies and were establishing a new kingdom. It wouldn't be ruled by her and her sister yet, but it couldn't be that bad. Maybe things would change.

Luna wondered bitterly which sister she was returning with: the one who laughed and cried with her, joked with her, adventured with her, practised magic with her, told stories to her, counted stars with her, and told her not to shove all the clover in her mouth or the other one...

The sophisticated one who turned her back on her when Luna was sad, and yelled horrible things at her when she was angry. The sister who treated her like a shadow.

Perhaps they were not really two sisters after all, Luna thought, perhaps the one We had just does not love us anymore.

She swallowed and shivered slightly even though it wasn't cold. Tia changed didn't she? As soon as we found the tribes something in her...something had disappeared. Her smile was never real, she hid what she felt except for the few times she taunted me and then she became some sort of shrewd monster. A politician.

Tia never used to do this. Maybe once we get home she'll return to her senses, she might apologize.

Luna was the sort who never lost hope. Hope that her sister be alright, hope that they would see their friend Discord again, hope that they would find the parents Tia refused to talk about. She never lost her hope in anything even though sometimes it hurt her much more to keep it then it would to lose it.

She still wished on stars as well, even though she knew her sister did not. Sometimes she wondered if Celestia was her sister in name only, for she had become a stranger to Luna.

The ponies a few paces in front of her began to chatter a bit loudly among themselves and one of them pointed their hoof to the sky were Celestia's sun was dipping below the horizon. She heard them talk about how much they wished it didn't ever have to be night. They hated the dark, they all did.

Luna looked up at the sky, her horn glowing with the magic aura the same hue as her eyes, as she reached for the moon. She tried to block everything out, telling herself she would live once they returned the castle, even though the whole of this 'new' Equestria had is her home the castle in which she was born was a special kind, the home were it all began.

Even though she didn't specify what this 'live' was, even to herself. Luna repeated it over and over in her head like all the other mantras of her childhood, as she fixed her determined gaze on the last bits of the deep scarlet sunset, as red as the anger and despair that would cause her to snap in the years that followed.




...




Onyx slammed his hoof into the snow and screamed. How much snow did he have to walk through?!

He was certain he was heading in the right direction. He'd been traveling for months but unfortunately he didn't remember much of anything since the last time he was here he had so foolishly believed that Starswirl wasn't lying. That he would have a home.

Onyx bit his lip. Since when did he think like this?

No, wait. That wasn't his thought at all. Sombra was the one who thought that. Yes, clearly it was Sombra.

Sombra, who could use magic effortlessly while all he could make was failed cabbage loaves since everything exploded in his face.

Except this. He would not let this fail. 

Onyx kicked at the snow and trudged on shouting half-thought out complaints to the sky even though he didn't listen to what he was saying.

The book was right: he would have everything he ever wanted and no one would have the power to stop him.

He just had to kill to get what he wanted. Starswirl was just the start, he knew that.

When he went to the Crystal Empire, when he saw that shining blue-white spire jutting out of the Gemheart Mountains he would be a different pony.

He would be a 'Sombra' of sorts. He wouldn't be known as Onyx and nopony would ever know the real Sombra was just some insignificant piece of property that was just drifting around in his head.

Onyx picked up his pace a bit, his desire to see blood like an invisible chain that instinctively tugged him in the right direction, hooves meeting the snow like some sort of code that guided him toward what his twisted mind craved. He glanced up and saw the sky, a sunset having more color then he could ever recall seeing before-even though he rarely looked at the sky.

It made him smile, and reminded him of his lifelong wish. 

A moment later his world went black and he knew why: Sombra, the enemy he would never stop fighting had decided to take what was Onyx's.

Onyx would always fight, he would fight to be the best at anything.

The last thing he saw was the sky above him. A constant reminder.

He was an artist. This white world was his canvas and he would paint it as red as the sky. 




...




Sombra had to look at the world through a mirror half the time. He lived in a world where he couldn't run from anything or anypony. He could only trust himself, what he learned, and the knowledge he had within him.

He could see the bias in Onyx's memories.  He knew that his origins were used to justify the way he was treated, and he knew it would only get worse.

Onyx was easier to read then a book. He had some sort of control over Sombra now but one day...that might change.

Sombra hinged his whole life on that one word: 'might'. To him it was a definite 'would'. Maybe even a 'will'?

...That will change...

He raced across the snow, nothing more then a blurry shadow galloping at full speed. He knew he was better then Onyx especially since unlike Onyx he was getting stronger. 

Eventually, Onyx would figure out how to use dark magic. So far Sombra had four kinds of magic: his own, the dark magic, arcane magic (it came from Onyx, but they both used it differently with varying degrees of proficiency), and regular magic.

But it didn't matter because no matter how much Onyx figured out, Sombra was always and would always be better.

Sombra would have his own life.

Onyx could never win and he could never loose.

Sombra looked up at the stars that were not yet there, as he stood a solitary soul against an endless white.

The sky was almost the same color as his eyes.

He smirked and kept going, even as snow began to fall, into the unknown mess that was his life.

Unfortunately, it only got worse.



...



Four very different ponies saw the very same sunset, and while it may have not been the most important day of any of their lives it was the one moment they were likely to ever share, these fighters.

One moment. In one day. Within one year. A single moment framed by one thought, for they all knew, that somehow this can't be all.

I will-
-rule!
-kill!
-live!

And so they did, once they made it through the snow that was the first of many obstacles.
> Part Six: Broken Youth
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"R-reason one: I was superior to him from the start, so it makes sense that I'll continue to be..."

I swallowed and my gaze shifted from one star to another, all of them glittering against an indigo sky. I was lucky to get a chance to see them. I took a deep breath, hoping to calm down but it came out shaky.

I was lucky to get a chance to see anything.

"Reason two: I'm not an idiot. Idiots don't survive and I know that I will since I'm smart."

I picked out another star in the sky, faintly twinkling. I was sitting on the balcony overlooking this strange country, all was quiet below only a few flames of green-and-purple to be seen but even they were dwarfed by the moon, even though it was covered by a cloud its glow still managed to escape. 

Half my world is nothing but black and I'm the only one that knows. I can't ever let it slip and I let the paranoia eat at my mind because it's the only thing that keeps me from another smug retort and whatever deplorable way I'd be maimed if Onyx discovers this.

"Reason three: I know that I'll get through this without losing myself..."

I'm stuck here whether I like it or not unable to run from anything and currently being forced into a life I never wanted while a voice in my head tries to rip me apart from the inside out. It only got worse when he forced this glorified circlet upon my head.

Another swallow from me and I flop down on the cold balcony no longer wanting to count stars or add up reasons any more.

All I want is this to end. I want to be alone forever in a half-dark world as long as I know that it's my own, with no voices and where I'll never see a face other then my own and all I'll ever hear is silence instead of screams. I just want to be my bitter sarcastic self where nopony will ever find me and I won't cry any more and there will be nopony ever again.

A few strands of my mane fall in the way of my right eye, concealing it more then I like. It doesn't bother me, not being able to see out of the left one since I barely had use of it for long. I almost forget what it was like to have use of both anyway.

I reach up to move those strands out of my face before catching sight of my hooves.

The armor on them is covered in blood that isn't mine, which is typical. What's less typical is that I know that I wasn't the one who wielded whatever weapon he choose this time. This time, it was him.

I like the sword. Everything's over so easily with a sword, or at least it is when I use one. I'd have liked to have had my own sword in another time, but I can't have anything but myself and whatever pain is alloted to me. Perhaps it's not as bad as what they get. I don't care, both are awful. He's awful. He likes a knife best because of how he can prolong things.

I'm not the evil one. I'm not the good one. I have to burn it all afterwards. I don't leave that much blood afterwards.

I wonder what it's like, not seeing as much blood as I have without developing a hollow-eyed stare. A pony would do that. I've seen it. Blood is everywhere. Ponies are born in blood, which must be revolting and maybe I'd actually pity them if they didn't have knives of their own, all the things they said about me. I don't care about them, but there's something that isn't right here. 

...If for ponies there is lots of blood when a young pony, a foal, is born, does this mean that Onyx is trying to kill me too? Weapons aren't alive, but I'm not a weapon no matter what he says. You don't have to kill a weapon and he's already made it clear that I'm too precious for him to kill, just not in a way I imagine a typical pony would.

My eyes are the color of blood. That's what these crystal ponies say. Well, some of it. Mostly they just scream the most horrible things at me, and I can't quite understand it all. I'm not sorry, but I don't want to do this. I'm not doing anything right but am I doing something so wholly wrong as well? I don't know.

I slam a hoof against the ground and stare up at the darkness. 

I would have built my entire world onto the possibility of never having Onyx inside my head.

...Except that possibility didn't exist.

Without Onyx I wouldn't be here. Although I don't need him, Onyx certainly depends on me. Or rather, he depends on having control over me and my currently miserable existence. My life was only brought about by the twisted fantasy of a child. My existence, however miserable it is, was dependent on something other than whatever it takes to make a pony, or any kind of organic life. I'll have to learn what that is some day, if I'm me. There's bound to be something recorded on such a subject. Onyx knows something that appears to deal with the subject, but his knowledge is never without distortion, just like the rest of his twisted mind.

I'm on the wrong end of a metaphorical sword but he's putting all his energy and idiocy into a war he'll never win. He doesn't know that he's fighting a one-sided battle against an opponent that only ever gets stronger, and even though my magic is not infinite he will never compare to me. His only power lies in the bond of the spell and that twisted Book's seduction of such a bloodthirsty mind, and a stupid one as well.

I wiped the blood onto the scarlet cape I wore. The cape of a king. It's not my cape because I'm not the king. I'm not a royal like the tyrant, King Onyx, as he would have styled himself if there was a shred of honesty to him. I'm certainly something above the common lot though, such rebellious potential lies in myself even though I am bound - partially - to what most would consider higher, at least in the superficial social construct of 'status'. It's such a petty thing, really.

Petty, small. Smaller than a king, held as pettier than the royal family. One whose rebellions, however meaningful, will most likely be small.

A Lord or a Lady. That's what I am. 

Lord Sombra? Lady Sombra? What's the use in having two different titles for something? 'Lord' certainly has a better ring to it, I suppose. I am Lord Sombra. 

I, Lord Sombra,  wonder what it's like outside of this place. All the books I've found so far depict an awfully big world most of which isn't even covered in snow, but with mountains. As much as I like snow that possibility sounds amazing - to have something else out there. There's all sorts of history as well, with images of the gods and goddesses and so much literature I can't make sense of, and many blue prints to memorize, but I have a harder way working my way through those since my current reading ability leaves much to be desired. One day, I'll learn.

One day I'll see all that. I told myself I'd live and I would, perhaps I'd become an adventurer. They aren't bound by anything or anypony.

I, Lord Sombra, vow to escape this meaningless struggle for power, counterproductive competition, and needless material 'gain'  that others have busied themselves with. I will not be drowned in mindless social pursuits or allow myself to die and be a pawn to those who wish to rule. I will act on my longings to leave such a despicable parasitic relationship if I am able to. I will not act on my best behavior for this monster who thinks his desires rule my own.

I will leave everything, and continue discover the world as it is.

For irony's sake, I am the Right-Honourable Lord Sombra. I'm everything that no pony ever wanted, and I won't bow to anypony, any god, or all who think they can order me about. I will be alone, forever.

Everpony's demon will make every rebellion count, they're like stars, nearly infinite and unique. Each star is a reason I'm better than Onyx and each rebellion will only serve to demonstrate this.

Everpony's demon will act upon this vow in any way that proves tactful and beneficial to himself as soon as he removes his forehooves from his face and ceases crying, shaking under the scarlet robes with blood spattered edges that are illuminated by the moon's light.

I'm the Right-Honourable Lord Sombra, and I couldn't give up even if I wanted to, but it doesn't make me any less lost, no matter how many stars I count.