Clairvoyance

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*Celestia found herself in a room filled with naught but darkness, unable to see her own hooves in front of her. It felt hot, uncomfortably so, nearly burning her body as she tried to discern something from the shade. She felt an overwhelming sense of dread, a horrible, repressing, contrasting coldness in her heart, ascending right through her non-functioning horn. She could feel something around her, but she couldn't see anything, or hear anything. Just... Nothing.

The coldness tightened her heart, and her breath came shallow and slow as the burning intensified. At last, a sound came to her, but it was no comfort.

'The world has changed so little in such a long time,' resonated a chilling and deep voice, rattling her to the core. 'Sinners, villains, demons... No different than before.'

Celestia tried to call out, say anything, even scream if she could, but her voice was swallowed by the infinity. This was a fear unprecedented for her- not for her ponies, not for her sister, not even for the future, but for her very life. She drew her hooves close, feeling insignificant, terrible... wrong. The darkness vanished, replaced by a violently bright light, more intense than any she'd ever given the sun.

'And such pitiful beings to claim for themselves dominion,' A different voice intoned, overlaid with thousands of others in an eerie chorus. 'To think that this would happen in our absence. It is a shame.'

The alicorn felt her heart plummet, as if she fell into an abyss below, the burning and the cold drawing tears from her eyes. Who was doing this? What was doing this?

The chorus spoke. 'It is time we returned to the world, their 'Equestria.' My Earth fits them not. Perhaps the child's sacrifice will amount to something after all this time.'

The resonance laughed, and replied, 'And my beasts will make sure of that.'

The voices spoke in unison as she felt her body succumb to combustion, and her heart start to freeze, but now they spoke to her. 'This is your judgement day, Equestria. We will reclaim your world, and return it to the dust from which it came.'

And then Celestia awoke, sweating through cold fur. And the vision faded, leaving only the dread in her heart, and the sense of imminent doom she could not shake.

Deliverance

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Isaac gasped in pain as he hobbled over to the wood panel wall. A single heart remaining, the rest demolished by the horrible beasts of The Chest. He had honestly been rather lucky to make it as far as he had, his primary offense being the 99 bombs he'd been granted early on, and escaping with his dad's key. He was now on his last, an unfortunate pill having deprived him of his tool, leaving him dozens of keys with nothing to unlock. The blue map was his only hope- the secret room, it would have bombs, health, maybe even an item that could save him- anything.

He set the bomb down, and backed away as quickly as he could. One loud burst later, he looked up to see the dust clearing from the gap in the chest's wall. He held his breath and stepped in, praying silently that Greed would not greet him. Within, he took the breath and opened his eyes.

Pitch black. Not 'Curse of Darkness' or 'Dark One' black, but pure, 'see nothing at all whatsoever' black. The air was stale, barely even oxygenated. He wasn't able to move around- he was on his side, and surrounded on all others. The exit was gone, and he began to panic. Isaac's breath came shallow and quickly, coughing on the disgusting air, pushing on all sides, trying to find the way out. His hand fell upon his father's key. He concentrated, and activated it. The key and all his items vanished from him.

The room opened. *Light spilled in from over Isaac, nearly blinding him, and refreshing the air. He slowly stood up, rubbing out his eyes, adjusting to the sudden brightness.

"Where...?" he murmured, unused to the sound of words, the way they felt in his ears. The room he was in was... bright. Like the Cathedral, but without the solemn, uneasy atmosphere. This place was cheerful, nice, comforting.

Like home, before things changed.

The boy climbed out of the chest hesitantly, surprised by the warmth of the stone beneath his feet. The sunlight warmed it, not a bonfire or explosion. This place wasn't dusty, moldy, fetid or even dirty - nothing contaminated this new place, and nothing enclosed it. It was just a long room, but a long room with open doors, high ceilings, wide halls- so vast, so large!

Most importantly, nothing was trying to eat, blow up, incinerate, or otherwise maim him. This room was safe. He liked this room.

Isaac moved away from the chest and towards one of the glass mosaics on the wall. Like the Cathedral, light poured in from behind them. Unlike it, the light was warm and comforting, not cold and unforgiving. The mural depicted not a sorrowful child or an angelic cross, but instead, six colorful four-legged creatures surrounding some kind of shrine or statue, inset with gems. They all appeared to be quite happy, but he wasn't sure why. Isaac didn't know what it meant, or what it showed, so he started to wander down the large hall.

More glass art decorated the walls, depicting scenes of these creatures in tragedy and triumph. One showed the figures from before and some kind of gray dragon, and another showed the same dragon surrounded by two vaguely angelic figures. He wasn't sure exactly who and what they triumphed over, but the mosaics still were comforting, somehow empowering. The various statues and things weren't nearly as easy to enjoy. They reminded the child too much of the Angel statues, and Satan's shrine. He avoided their stares and walked to the end of the hall, opening the door to a much larger room. It had an enormous staircase, a massive chandelier, with enough vibrancy and grandeur to give Greed a heart attack. He stood, taken aback by the sheer enormity of the room, before seeing movement at the side of the door.

He ducked to the side, peering at the edge at what might be his first enemy here. It looked to be one of the things from the murals, but wearing golden armor, and grey as opposed to the colors the murals had. It held some kind of spear in the crook of it's foreleg, and stared blankly ahead. Isaac wouldn't have even noticed it had it not looked around when he opened the door. It wasn't actively seeking him out, but it didn't look nonthreatening either. Isaac began to sneak away, keeping an eye on the enemy, backing right into one of the statues.

The statue leaned precariously, and Isaac desperately attempted to prevent what soon became an inevitability. The statue collapsed, scattering stone debris across the floor, and attracting the attention of the creature.* Mortified, Isaac bolted, running as fast as his legs would carry him, ignoring the protests of the creature, all the way to the opposite door. He burst through, startling two more of the enemies, and enticing them to pursue him in his blind panic-rush away from the place.

He could barely pay attention to his surroundings as he fled, let alone see them through the tears streaming from his face. He wasn't attempting to attack the creatures, he was just scared. More so than he'd been in a very long time. For once, he didn't know where he was, what he was facing. He had no point of reference. It may be brighter, but he was still in the dark.

The frightened child ran, evading his pursuers by sheer luck of the twists and turns of... wherever he was. It wasn't until he ran right into a solid wall did he stop and turn around to face them, eyes bleary with tears.

"Got you now!" one said in a deeply masculine voice, spear lowered at the boy.

"Go away!" Isaac croaked, voice weak and strained. "Please, just..." he wiped his eyes clear, looking at them pleadingly. "Go away."

Another placed his foreleg across the aggressive one, who withdrew his spear. "Are you a child?"

"I..." Isaac mumbled. He was suddenly caught by the enormity surrounding him. He was outside. Truly, completely, actually outside. He could see the sun. Not a card, the real, warming, existent sun. Clouds. Sky. Trees. Open air. Endlessness, without bounds.

It was too much. All too much.

Isaac collapsed in a faint.

*Celestia and Luna bickered back and forth over the sleeping form on the bed.

"We have no idea what it is capable of!" Luna pointed out to her sister, gesturing to the form exasperatedly. "It evaded the guards and managed to get into the castle undetected, who know's what it is here to do?"

"It is a child, sister," The Sun Princess replied calmly, giving a cursory glance at the slumbering creature. "It was frightened. It didn't know where it was or what was happening, it simply fled. Fainted."

"Have you not considered that such an innocent appearance hides a beast within?" Retorted the younger alicorn. "It may be deceiving us to gain our trust?"

"And you would condemn it when that may not be the case?" Celestia asked.

Luna faltered, but still ventured darkly, "If it means the safety of our subjects, our ponies, then it may be necessary."

Celestia's face took on a grim expression. "I know. But we will not harm a child without due cause."

Luna smirked. "I don't suppose the property damage qualifies?"

Both shared a short bout of laughter at the slight joke, stopping when they heard the cover's rustle. The creature child was stirring from it's slumber.

"Is it awake?"

"It better be prepared to talk."

"Hush, that's rude..."

Isaac heard these voices as he drew closer to consciousness. He vaguely remembered being carried somewhere, and voices arguing about something indistinct. He recognized one of those voices as the one inquiring about his sleeping. He considered pretending to sleep longer while he waited for the source of the voices but knew it would be a futile effort. So he opened his eyes.

And found a white horse's right in his face. He yelped, startling both of them, as he scrambled off the bed and away from the... the thing. The White horse. Wings. Magic coming out of it's head. Brightness that burned his mind.

The Angel. The one from the mural. Coming to take him back to The Chest. To his fate. He made to run again, but found the doors guarded by the armored creatures from before.

"S-stay away from me!" Isaac yelled, his voice hurting his own throat. "I don't want to go back!"

The Angel started to move toward him, the four legs making horrible, horrible clicking against the floor, bone on rock. "We aren't going to-"

Isaac backed away from her, flinching. "No! Go away!"

The Angel, amazingly, stopped it's advance, but still did not retreat. It faked a concerned tone, and asked "What's wrong?"

"You! You won't take me back there!" Isaac began to cry, but still restrained himself from directing the tears at the creatures. Why did they not attack him? Why did they not take him away already?

"Back where?" Another voice asked.

He looked up cautiously, before flinching away from the new face. Another Angel, in blue, but like the other. Four legs, a muzzle, large wings. "You know where!"

A moment of tense silence. The first Angel said, "We won't take you anywhere."

Isaac would not fall for this lie. He was no fool! "I don't believe you!"

"If we wanted to take you anywhere, what would be stopping us?" The second angel asked. "Why would we have not done so already?"

"You... you..." The child was stumped. "You just..."

He saw the first draw near again, lowering to his height and he backed up into a corner, hugging the window drapes tightly. "We won't hurt you. Why don't we just... talk?"

Isaac wiped his eyes and looked up and down the angel. The hair flowed like a pastel four-color flag, and she lacked a halo. They didn't seem like any angel's he'd read about, nor like the ones he'd fought, but still... he mumbled, "W-why should I believe you?"

"We had plenty of opportunity to get rid of you while you were unconscious, and yet we did no such thing." The second angel shot a quick glare at the first. "What point would there be in harming you now?"

The second angel's hair was like the stars, something he had not seen in so long. She looked angry, but not with him. Isaac waited a moment, considering, before slowly nodding his head.

Cognizance

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*The white Angel gave the small boy a patient smile, and asked gently, "Who are you?"

The child shifted the drapes around in his hands, and replied meekly, "I'm Isaac." He looked up from his hands, forcing himself to make eye contact with the Angel. "If you're not taking me back there, what do you want with me?"

She was slightly taken aback by his bluntness, but replied calmly, "We want to make sure you're okay."

"I'm fine," he replied quickly, eyeing the door. "Can I go now?"

The darker Angel gave him a sharp look. "No, not yet. What are you?"

Isaac looked at her with confusion prominent on his face. "What do you mean? I'm..." he hesitated. He recalled the thousand memories of becoming the beast, ascending, and dying, unsure of which was true or false, illusion or real. "I'm a person. I'm me."

The dark Angel shook her head, stomping one of her forelegs impatiently. "No, what manner of creature are you?"

"I'm a human. A person." he answered, not wanting to anger the Angel any more.

"But what is a 'human'?" She demanded.

Isaac swallowed nervously. "Just... one of me. Like me."

The Angel scowled at him. "But-"

She stopped at a gesture from the white Angel. "He clearly doesn't know how to explain his species. He's a child, Luna."

"So he would have you believe," the darker angel mumbled, not inaudibly. "Why are you here?"

Isaac clutched the drapes tightly. "I don't know."

"How do you not know why you're here?" She asked skeptically, raising one brow at him.

"I don't know," he mumbled softly, eyes tearing up. "I just got up out of The Chest and then I was here." he blurted.

"'The chest?'" the white angel asked, cocking her head with confusion. "What chest do you mean?"

He mumbled inaudibly, the tears rolling down his cheeks as he twisted the fabric anxiously. The angel asked him again. He did not respond immediately, but eventually the child wiped his eyes again, refusing to meet her gaze. "The Chest I was supposed to die in." He trailed off.

Both angels turned to each other, equally surprised, if not for the same reasons. Isaac slid down against the wall, sobbing openly. He didn't want to tell them, he didn't want to do what he did, but he had to. The Angels wouldn't get it- even if they did, they'd throw him right back in there. And there's no lying to the Servants of God.

Isaac felt a warm touch on his face, and jerked away violently. The white angel had just touched him, with her hoof. He stared a moment, horrified, unbelieving of her concern. They were taking him back! He knew it, he was right! Isaac shot up and ran between their legs in escape, startling the guard and bolting around a corner. The child could hear the Angels calling for him to come back; he looked behind him, and saw the darker Angel following close behind, hooves thundering, wings flared.

Isaac knew he couldn't avoid it anymore. He let his tears fly, crying in fear and sympathy. The tears flustered the Angel, but only for a moment. It was enough time for Isaac to get out of her sight, slipping into an unoccupied room, flinching as she roared past at impossible speeds, followed closely by the protesting White Angel and the guards. He released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

Isaac leaned against wall, slid down to a sitting position, then lay on his side, crying quietly to himself. This place that may have been his chance at freedom was now sure to be a new prison- not of locks and walls, but of pursuit and persecution. He didn't want to hurt them, but they would not leave him be. The world outside was a different danger than the purgatorial prison he'd existed in, and existed for so long. No longer was he struggling against all in a battle of innocence- he now lived the chase of a kind that judged him to be a demon, and to seal him away again in The Chest, the place he'd come from.

He stewed in this tumult of melancholy for some time.

Altercation

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*Isaac lay shivering on the cold stone of his temporary asylum. The Angels had not yet found him, but he knew they would. And he knew they would take him back there. And everything would go back to the endless, assiduous cycle of descent and ascent. It was futile to try and prevent it, but the child found some small way to enjoy the calm this world beyond his own purgatory. The atmosphere was serene, in spite of the shouts and calls of the Angels and their minions. Nothing immediately hurting him, or for him to hurt. Just… inaction. It was something he would treasure, find some solace in, even if it would not last.

He wasn’t sure how long he lay there, but he was sure of something quite immediately. There had been a new sound among the search. A loud, resonating crash, followed by yelps and screams of horror and distress. And then, a sound he knew all too well.

The groaning, wet belch of a beast he’d slain dozens of times.

Isaac did not want to get up. He didn’t want to confirm this intrusion on the placidity of this world. But he knew it to be true.

Monstro, the cat-lipped mound of flesh and teeth, had found its way to him. And it was attacking the creatures living here.

But… were the creatures not minions of the Angels? The Angels and Monstro were both of the same alliance - against Isaac - but then why would they conflict?

*A scream of pain tore him from his ruminations. Isaac rose to his feet, and opened the door just enough to peer through. The child saw the beast, landing right by the door. He heard something slam bodily into the wall he stood behind, flinching as he saw the White Angel slumped against it, and against the far wall, the Darker Angel was fending off a horde of Gapers and Pacers, narrowly avoiding the spurts of blood and gore. It was no doubt now - they were enemies as much as he was theirs. He knew not whether to run or to continue hiding, but it was not his choice to make.

Monstro turned to him, grinning lopsidedly. Isaac ran out the door and around the it, already firing the stream of tears he knew as his only offense. Several spheres of saline sorrow splattered against his foe like acid on it’s skin, Isaac’s pain and Isaac’s sadness becoming one with the beast before him. The monster, of course, displayed no suffering, and yet still, the tears would wear down it’s corrupt and abandoned soul. Old patterns resurfaced as he circled the Boss, ducking the hematemetic flurry of projectiles as best he could, bolting underneath Monstro when it tried to squash him with it’s enormous body. High leaps yielded no reward, Isaac rushing away from the impacts, ignoring the taunting grunts, the gruesome grin of Monstro’s face. In the corner of his eye, he saw the White Angel being surrounded by Gapers, all of which looked ready to tear her apart. In the spur of the moment, Isaac made a split decision.

He ran up to the Gapers as Monstro jumped, the creature’s impact crushing the gapers entirely, splattering both the child and the Angel with their remains. Isaac started to bait the boss away, turning to see the Dark angel, across the hall, glaring at them with rage. Isaac ducked. Monstro only had time to stare vapidly at the angel as it fired a beam of energy intense enough to sear Isaac’s skin, without even touching it. Monstro erupted into a pile of flesh and gore, leaving only a simple pedestal with a torn scrap of a photo floating above it.

The small boy lay on the ground, unmoving, hoping the Angel would mistake him for dead. He had no such luck, as he felt himself lifted up harshly and without care, pulled up to the Angel’s face. Such intense hatred radiated from them that Isaac would’ve started bawling openly if he already wasn’t.

“You…” it growled, tears of it’s own forming on it’s eyes. “You… wretched demon…”

Isaac wailed in pain as the glow of energy surrounding him contracted, crushing him, suffocating him. The Angel had called him Demon. It wasn’t wrong. The chest was supposed to be his coffin. It became his prison. Now, that he finally had been released, seen the brightness of the sun, tasted the sweetness of the air… maybe he’d finally have true release, even if death was its messenger. The angel’s benevolence, given form of cruel death. He hoped.

As his vision grew clouded with red spots, his voice petered out for lack of air, he fell. He didn’t feel an impact, and could just faintly hear cries of anguish and shouts of censure from voices that remained in anonymity as his faculties faded. Isaac paid them no mind. At last, reprieve.

Celestia’s eyes crunched open through a crust of dried blood. She groaned, almost inaudibly, her whole body a sore mess. Her head swam, but she vaguely remembered some beast bursting through the mosaic, slamming her into a wall. Brief darkness, unconsciousness. Then the alicorn remembered the child… Isaac. Him leading the monstrosity to crush what looked like several bloody copies of the boy. She’d been showered in their gore, and then the Solar Princess’s memory failed her, as she’d descended to blackness again.

Then the searing heat. She could hear gasps for breath, her sister’s voice… shouting, angered. Celestia scrambled to her hooves unsteadily, ignoring the pain, looking around to see her sister suffocating Isaac in a fit of rage. Panicked, she called out to Luna, racing over to stop her. “Luna, No! Stop!”

Her sister heard - wide-eyed, she dropped the now silent child, running to Celestia, crying openly in relief. Her eyes let the tears flow as she embraced her elder sister, holding to her tightly as if she may disappear if released. “Oh, Celestia,” Luna sobbed into her sister’s shoulder. “We were so frightened, we thought you had been…”

“I’m fine, Luna,” Celestia said tersely, quickly reciprocating the hug and checking on Isaac. “What were you thinking?”

Luna, stunned by her sister’s unempathetic response, replied uneasily, “We… I saw him try to crush you. You weren’t moving, and you were both covered in blood. That Demon,” she glared over to Isaac. “had tried to kill you. And he’d brought that abomination to do it.”

Celestia hoisted Isaac up onto her back with a sweep of her wing, then gave her sister a look of uncertain confusion. “Luna, Isaac tricked that thing into crushing those bleeding doppelgangers, not me,” she looked down at the blood coating her and used a quick spell to vanish it. “Did you not see him distracting the large one? How he moved away from it, and used whatever form of magic he had against it? There’s no way they were on the same side.”

Looking nearly insulted, Luna shook her head. "Sister, that is not what we observed."

“He needs medical attention,” Celestia said, giving her sister a more earnest embrace. “We can discuss this at length later, alright?”

Luna gave her sister a look that most definitely did not say ‘alright’, but did not stop her from taking off with the child. She only looked over to the floating photo scrap, a wave of dread washing over her. ‘This is the beginning of something far worse.’

Portrayal

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*Darkness.

But conscious, like before.

… He was going to wake up.

… Isaac didn’t want to wake up.

… He had no choice.

Isaac awoke to silence. And pain. He couldn’t move his neck, finding it braced by some kind of padding, but he could feel the bandages across the majority of his body. Cleansed of blood. His eyes were dry. The room was dark, the only light filtering in from the pale moon outside.

The child tried to sit up, but felt himself slammed back into the bed roughly by some unseen force.

“You do not fool me.” He heard a low voice.

Isaac looked around in a slight panic, before finally noticing the outline of the darker Angel, just beyond the window’s light. Her eyes glowed slightly in the shade, cold, unforgiving. Hateful. “You may have beguiled my sister, but I will not fall for your trick.”

She walked over to him, never taking her eyes off him. “I know what you are. What you will do. And do not think for one moment that I will ever let it come to pass.”

Isaac was silent. She continued, her words even and calm, betraying their meaning. “I will not accept any foul deed. One step out of bounds, one pony hurt,” the angel drew close to him. “And I will not hesitate to finish what I started. Understood?”

Isaac, unable to nod, replied in subdued affirmative, “Yes.”

She nodded. And he slept.

When he woke up again, the room was bright. And he was not alone. Several creatures- ponies, he now knew- were speaking in hushed tones, including the Angels. They stopped when they heard the covers shift, and every eye was suddenly on him. Reflexively, he pulled away from them, against the headboard, clutching the blanket. The dark angel glared, and a smaller white pony’s horn lit up, but dissipated at a motion from the white angel. It looked at him with concern that Isaac had trouble believing was genuine.

After a brief and tense moment of silence, it asked him, “How are you feeling?”

Uneasily, he replied, “Okay.”

More silence. It felt oppressive in Isaac’s heart, heavy, large, a weight of awkwardness. Eventually, he chose to break it. “Are you?”

It nodded. He continued, but petered out halfway through his question. “Who…?”

“These are some ponies who are here to help you,” It began, looking over at the others. “This-”

Isaac shook his head, and pointed at the angel. “You. You aren’t like the other Angels.” ‘Not evil. Not vengeful. Not even angry.’ he thought.

It seemed a bit surprised, but answered him. “I am Celestia. I’m not an…’angel’, whatever that is.”

Celestia. That was… holy, but not an angel’s name, as far as he could recall. Something to do with the sky. Regardless, an Angel would not lie. But non-Angels can lie. So where did that put her? Isaac stowed away the notion for later.

Presumably this also meant the other was not an Angel either. Isaac looked at the darker one, but quickly looked away from the stoic and intimidating glare she presented. He’d ask later.

His thoughts were interrupted by a cough from the white pony, who had stepped closer to him. This one didn’t have wings like the not-angel ones’. He wore some kind of armor, like the guards, but with a different emblem on the breastplate. His expression was serious, but not a look of opposition or anger. “So who are you, then?”

“I’m Isaac,” the boy answered, twisting the sheets in his hands anxiously. “... Just Isaac.”

“Shining Armor.” The pony introduced, but he stepped back, noting Isaac’s nerves.

The one next to him, with a similar build to the not-angels, yet smaller and pink, spoke up. “I’m Cadence. Are you sure you’re okay?” Her voice, unlike ‘Celestia’, had a somehow more convincing level of concern.

Isaac felt himself about to insist he was fine, but hesitated. She picked up on this. “What’s wrong, really?”

He didn’t want to say. His chest hurt from the heartache his whole situation brought to mind, speaking it would be pure torture. He had an idea. “Could… Could I have some paper and a pencil?”

A look of confusion passed over several of their faces, but a purple not-angel nodded at some small scaly creature, who rushed out of the room. She asked him why he needed it.

The child gave a slight, sheepish smile. “I… I draw better than I could say it.”

The scaly thing returned with some paper and a quill. The purple one thanked it, and floated the paper and quill over to Isaac. He spread the papers across the bed, kicking the sheets to the end, and began to draw the simple figures of himself and his mother. The story he’d repeated to himself for all of his eternity ran down through his head.

*‘Isaac and his mother lived alone on a small house on a hill…’

*He pushed the last picture out of the way, depicting himself sitting alone and hyperventilating in the Chest. It was odd. So long had he known this tale, had he lived it- yet this time, it felt almost liberating to recount it. Isaac looked up from the sketches, to the faces of the ones he made them for.

Celestia looked heartbroken by them, as did Cadence. Shining Armor seemed almost disgusted, repulsed by the idea of it. The purple one, whose name he didn’t know yet, was shielding the eyes of the lizard-thing from them, her own eyes in a perpetual cringe. Luna looked down at them impassively, though he thought for a brief moment he saw her expression soften.

They aren’t throwing me back in there, he thought positively. They aren’t attacking me. They’re… is she… crying?

He saw tears welling up in the eyes of the pink non-angel, who looked at him with such pity that he almost felt guilty for making her cry. Isaac withdrew back to the headboard of the bed, mumbling an apology and wrapping his arms around his legs. Stupid, stupid, stupid, -

He felt something warm close around him, holding him. Trapping. He yelped, scrambling away in blind panic, a blur of pink moving across his vision as he fell off the side of the bed. His heart raced, as he stood up, seeing Cadence, mouth covered by her hooves out of horror as she stared at him, tears welling freely from her eyes.

“I… I don’t…” mumbled the child awkwardly, bright red with embarrassment and shame. “... sorry…”

Shining held her close, shooting a quick glare at the child, who busied himself picking up the scattered drawings. Isaac avoided eye contact. He didn’t want to see their disappointment, their shame, hatred. It was crushing. Petrifying. He felt such guilt, such sadness, such regret-

“Isaac?” He heard Celestia say. The child forced himself to look up at her. “We’re going to be right back, okay?”

He nodded. Back with guards. With the Chest. Chains. He continued to tidy the papers up as they left, knowing exactly what they were doing. He knew they didn’t want him there. Last night was proof enough. He sighed, placing them all up on the bedside table. He took a quick glance around the room, vaguely and grimly hoping to find a trapdoor. Not locating one, he climbed back up onto the bed, and began to draw another picture.

Nullity

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Cadence took a shuddering breath as the rest of the group exited the room, shutting the door behind them. Her husband still held had his foreleg wrapped around her in a half-embrace, which, while usually comforting, did not help with the turmoil she felt within.

Celestia gave her an empathetic touch of the wing, though Cadence did not think she knew exactly what she had just been witness to. Even so, the Princess of Love took this as a cue to start explaining.

“You’re all familiar with the Magic of Love, a form of Emotion magic. Something tied deeply into every thinking creature. No matter how bad, no matter how good, they all have some level of this form of magic.”

They all nodded, following her. “Most of the time, this magic flows two ways - From and To, the creature loving and being loved. This child… he has no ‘To’ whatsoever. Not even residually. ”

“So he’s not loved?” Spike asked, confused. “What about his parents? His family? Friends?”

“As far as I can tell, there isn’t any love coming from them. Not in a very long time,” Cadence replied,eyes cast at the his door. “He’s practically starved of it.”

“That sounds… horrible.” Twilight said quietly. “If his story was anything to go off of, he’s been alone for long enough to be completely emptied. Even more so given what his Mom did.”

Cadence gave a short, hollow laugh.”And then, that stupid hug…”

“Yeah,” her husband asked. “What was that about?”

Cadence sighed dejectedly, and admitted, “It was a dumb idea. I was hoping he could quickly form a faux-’To’ bond through physical contact, but I didn’t think he’d react so… fearfully.”

“Why’s the ‘To’ bond so important?” the dragon asked. “I mean, it sounds like he hasn’t had one a while, and he’s still here.”

“That’s a miracle in itself,” Twilight explained. “Imagine every day was a bad day. Really bad. And then imagine nobody cared, or they tried to make it worse. How hard would it be to feel good? To love or care about anyone?”

Spike cringed. “Well, really hard. But still, he seems okay-”

“I don’t think that’s quite the case, Twilight.” Celestia interrupted. “If he did not care, he would not have defended himself. It appears to me that Isaac cares immensely. He made it rather obvious that he at least cares about how he made Cadence feel. And he seemed quite embarrassed when we left.”

The dragon perked up. “So he cares, but he isn’t loved? Aren’t those the same?”

“Not quite, Spike.” The love princess corrected. “To love is different than to care. Caring can be about anything, any event, anyone, and anything. Care can make you strive for something, but failure to achieve it can hurt in one of the worst ways. Love, though, is personal, specific, and gratifying. But loss or lack of it hurts worse than care.”

“Shame,” Luna said sullenly, looking down to the floor. “That is what we often call the hurt of care. But love, that goes by the name of ‘Heartbreak.’”

“So Isaac is heartbroken, then?” Twilight asked. “He didn’t seem so.”

“It’s such an old wound, it has mended with time, still leaving the damage.” Celestia replied. “But it is a poor seal on an empty vessel. He’s become adverse to acts of Love, which makes it that much harder to reform the tie.”

“I still don’t see why he needs it,” Spike reminded the group. “He seems to be doing fine without it.”

“Spike, he’s not loved. It makes him all the more likely to be hurt by his care. And it makes it harder for him to love.” Twilight explained. “He deserves to feel good, after all this time.”

Luna muttered something under her breath. Shining cleared his throat, drawing their attention. “So how are we going to go about this? We can’t exactly adopt him out, or put him with foster parents.”

“He can’t stay here,” Celestia said, rather unhappily. “I’m not sure this would be the best environment for him, with the nobles already upset over the cancelled ‘grievance court’ for him.”

“He could come to Ponyville?” Spike suggested, restraining the excitement in his voice. He raised a claw with an idea. “He could take my bed!”

“Ponyville already has a panic reflex, Spike.” Twilight reminded him, lowering his claw. “They reacted to Zecora, who still at least looked similar, by hiding whenever she came to town. Imagine what it’d be like for them to see him without warning.”

“We could send him to the Moon,” Luna half-joked, earning a short laugh from Spike and a glare from her sister.

“So I guess that leaves us,” Shining concluded. He looked to his wife, trying to discern her feelings on the matter. She seemed to have recovered, even reinvigorated by this decision.

“We can show him love. Reteach him. He doesn’t need to hurt anymore.” Cadence smiled, thinking of how Isaac could finally find a reason to do the same. “We can heal the hole in his heart.”

Isaac looked up from his drawing. Though he hadn’t been paying too much attention, he could still make out some of the conversation outside.He didn’t like how casually they were planning out his future without consulting him, but he probably wouldn’t have been able to contribute much, anyway. They kept talking about how he was missing something. Love. That wasn’t true.

He loved lots of things. He loved drawing, he loved his stuff... which his mother had taken away. He loved his mother… before she’d tried to kill him… infinitely…
He loved his… friends… that he never really had...
He… loved...

…

Isaac didn’t love much. But there wasn’t much he could do about that, anyway.

Regardless, he’d heard an some kind of agreement be reached, and the ponies moving back to the door. He looked down at his drawing of them laughing at the chest, him within. He stuffed it randomly into the pile just as they entered.

“Isaac?” He looked up, but not meeting the speaker’s eyes. The pink one was talking to him again. Cadence. He reddened with shame, but before he could blurt out further apologies she continued, “Isaac, we need to ask you something.”

He swallowed anxiously past the lump in his throat, and replied, “Ask me what?” They have the chest just outside, I know it-

“Would you be alright with living with Shining and I while we teach you about our world?”

Isaac was stunned. Floored. Utterly caught off guard. He must have heard her wrong, surely “W-what?”

She smiled knowingly at him. “We know you aren’t from here, and given the circumstance, Shining and I would be happy to teach you about things.”

“As would Spike and I, when the time comes.” the purple one added. ‘Spike’, the lizard, gave him a thumbs-up, which Isaac simply stared at.

The child still could hardly believe what he was hearing. They were going to allow him to stay after that display? After what had happened just yesterday? Not only that, but help him learn about the world he had been returned to? They owed him nothing, and he had next to nothing to offer in return… This was… beyond courtesy. Beyond kindness.

He still couldn’t meet her eyes, but with a sound that could only be called a whisper with some generous upward rounding, he replied, “Y-yeah.”

Vacillation

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Isaac sat down in the chariot, as far from the edge as he could be without touching the other passengers. He’d drawn his legs up to his chest and yelped the moment it had taken off, the rushing, shrinking ground beneath him startling the child. It wasn’t so much the height that he was startled by, but the idea of falling all that way that terrified him. It was ever so slightly worse than the hop into the basement. The gaping void that was the sky above him was hardly better. He saw Cadence give him a worried glance, but he looked back down to the chariot’s floor, shying away from her slightly.

They were taking him somewhere far away, north. ‘The Crystal Empire’, they’d called it. It was supposed to be a place of beauty, a place long sealed from the world, only recently released. The ponies living there would be more open to accepting him; they had a lot to accept as of late. So he was told.

Even so, he knew little of what to expect. He’d gathered that Cadence was royalty, and Shining was her spouse, but he didn’t know exactly where he’d fit in. Adopted orphan? Charity case? A prisoner on parole? He wasn’t certain which he’d prefer. They’d all leave him in a rather uncomfortable position, regardless.

Still below, from the edge of his vision he could see the ground changing from mountainous foliage to rolling green hills. The air grew colder, the wind bit harder, but he said nothing. Punishment of this caliber hardly bothered him, psychologically, but instinctively, he began to shiver.

Cadence took notice of this. She nudged her husband, gesturing to Isaac. I’m right here. I can see you doing that. It’s not as if I don’t understand.

Shining unfastened his cloak, and offered it to the child with a small smile. Isaac looked at the steel-grey cloak, then at the unicorn. Warmth he would likely need. Kindness he did not deserve.

He put a hand out to grab it, but retracted it midway. Shining either did not notice, or pretended not to; the pony tossed the cloak around the boy’s shoulders. Isaac murmured his thanks, looking down at the floor again, reddening with embarrassment. He didn’t have to do that. This isn’t something I should have.

Still, he pulled the monochromatic protector around him close. He was cold, and it was warm. And the gale wasn’t exactly inviting.

Isaac jolted awake as the chariot touched-down. He panicked a moment when the refracting sun blinded him, but he calmed when the holy pain he associated with it did not come. Shades of blue, violet and rose blurred in his recovering eyes. He refocused on the floor, forcing himself to look slowly up from the drab surface so he could slowly register the glamorous city before him. *

Crystals. Everything refracted, reflected, redirected light from the sun in a spectacular and dazzling display. It all centered in a geometric symmetry around a massive tower which dominated the skyline. The sun was at a perfect peak above it, a picturesque scene of elegant craftsmanship and beauteous mortal creation.

I don’t belong here.

While he was awestruck by the grandiose structure he’d been presented with, it left him feeling… insignificant. Hollow. Even further alienated from this world he’d been abducted to. He would’ve shrunk back against the back of the chariot if Cadence and Shining were not still there.

“It’s a beautiful place, isn’t it?” Cadence asked him.

“Y-yeah,” he stammered, shaken from the horrid haze. “Really… bright.”

“You haven’t even seen it from inside,” She stepped past him, giving him what he guess was supposed to be an encouraging smile. “Come on. We’re going to take you to the castle.”

Isaac stood up, leaning against the edge of the chariot. “There’s… there’d be a lot of others. On the way there.” He was twisting the grey fabric in his hands. I don’t want to be the disruption of this… serenity.

“Well, of course. But don’t worry,” She reassured him. “You’ll be with us. You’ll be fine.”

He still was no less uneasy, but he hopped off the chariot, mumbling a ‘thank-you’ to the two winged-pony drivers. Isaac fell in line with the princess and her husband, on her left, Shining on her right. Two more unicorn guards, armed with spears, stood on either side of the three of them, and two normal-ponies were at their rear. Being of such a smaller stature than those on either side of him did nothing to calm his accelerating heart.

This was their first time seeing him. He had to look good. He had to be perfect. Faultless. Flawless. If he made a single mistake, it would be remembered forever. Marring his reputation. Invalidating his word to the dark non-angel.

They headed into the city. Isaac tried his best to look straight ahead, to not look at the faces of those around him, to not allow himself the melancholy of the unfamiliar world around him.

Inhale; exhale. Inhale; exhale. Inhale; exhale. Isaac repeated this mantra to shut out the world around him. Ignored the gasps and murmurs of the passerby. Thought only of the next step, next breath, the next beat of his heaving heart. He focused only on the area directly before him. The… crystal roads.

He clenched his eyes shut.

He kept walking until he felt something touch his chest, startling him out of the monotony. He jumped away from what he saw was Shining’s hoof. The stallion was looking at him expectantly, though the child’s reaction seemed to add some concern to it.

“I, uhm…” Isaac trailed off awkwardly. The boy hadn’t heard what he’d said. “Sorry…”

“Isaac, we’re here.” Shining repeated.

Isaac blinked in surprise, and looked around. They were underneath the tower, in the center of the city. To Isaac’s further impression, there was a shrine in the center of the plaza beneath, over which gently bobbed some kind of turquoise-gem heart. A snowflake-like pattern flourished outward from the center, glowing with a gentle white-blue light.

He felt an overwhelming sense of peace emanating from it, his own heart slowing in pace as it synchronized itself with that of the shrine’s ebb and flow. It was… relaxing. Not to the point where he would call himself calm, but it helped.

He heard Shining call him again. The child looked over to him; the unicorn was gesturing for the boy to follow them inside. Isaac stole away one last glance at the heart, and, almost reluctantly, pursued his… them, up and around a wide spiral staircase to one of the main halls.

The interior of the citadelic structure was as impressive as the exterior, though with the added benefit of a lack of blinding from refracted sunlight. Aside from the crystalline structure, the high-quality tapestries and chandeliers, both of which far surpassed the more cathedral-reminiscent palace he’d arrived in, gave this place an air of calculated elegance, perfected craft and perfect nature. Isaac felt insignificant beneath the enormous arches that towered above him, the gaping windows that loomed over him in the slight concavity of the outside wall.

“What do you think?” Cadence asked him. Isaac was about to reply, but she continued, “The view is wonderful.”

Isaac looked out of the window. Much of the area was in the shadow of the tower, leaving no blinding glares, but casting a looming shadow over the area in their stead. The buildings were far more intimidating for the lack of light, their edges sharper, their colors darker. And the distant horizon, the sky stretching into an infinite, boundless, endless… Abyss.

Isaac looked away. “I-it looks nice.” he lied. It’s… I can’t… I don’t like it. It makes me feel so... small.

Cadence gave him another smile, then motioned with her head for him to follow. The group continued down the corridor, Isaac doing his best to appear calm while avoiding the view outside. The Princess and her husband were speaking in a relative whisper, but Isaac could glean their uncertainty from their tones.

Second thoughts. Doubts. He’d known it wouldn’t last long, Isaac had been hugely optimistic, too expectant of their kindness, but that was more so a mistake on his part than theirs. I’m out of place, the single smear on a perfected painting. I shouldn’t even-

His introspective insecurities were interrupted by a clearing throat. The child’s daze left him once again looking at concerned faces without knowing the cause for their troubled expression. He shrugged wordlessly, face reddening.

“Do you like it?” Shining repeated. He seemed more annoyed this time, compared to the entrance.

“Like…?” Isaac looked at what he had gestured to. He stepped into the open door, taking in the surprisingly normal-sized room. The window, curtains drawn, faced a brighter side of the city, though the angle of the light prevented it from refracting directly within. It had a fairly large bed, with large, elaborate drapes like those he’d seen in his mother’s room. A dresser with a mirror of carved crystal was opposite the bed, and next to it was a simple, well-used wooden desk, though it seemed a bit high for him. There was a small box at the back corner of the room, similar to the desk in appearance. After lingering on it for a moment, Isaac forced himself to ignore it.

It actually reminded him a great deal of his old room, aside from the resplendence of the material, and the style of bed. The room he had before it was all taken away.

Isaac turned to the two of them. He gave a small smile, though he was repressing his reminiscent unhappiness it brought about. “I like it. Thank you.”

Cadence managed to pick up on his true feeling, or at least his discomfort regarding the furnishing. “We could get rid of that if you’d like.”

Isaac shook his head. *“Can… can I go to sleep?” He rubbed his eyes to feign tiredness, in actuality rubbing away the forming tears. No, no, this is… I don’t deserve… This is too much. I shouldn’t have any of this.

“Do you need anything else?” The princess asked. He shook his head. She gave him a kind smile. “We’ll be back in a little while. Ask the guard if you need anything.”

Cadence and Shining stepped out of the room, leaving Isaac to himself. He climbed up on the bed, with a little difficulty. The child flopped on his back, not even bothering to unclasp the cloak. This was too much for him to take in. Too much to have. And infinitely more than he deserved. He drew his legs up to his chest, facing away from the sunlight. It was exhausting to pretend he could ever accept such a charity. Even more so to appease his benefactors, when he didn’t even want what they were presenting to him. This whole place was beyond him. He was not worthy of this… picturesque tranquility. He was a fault, forced into place. An aberration, against all asinine abstractions. He does not belong.

This world insists on this. Why does no one else see? Why do the fight so hard against the fact? He knows it. He knows how it feels, how could they? To have a hole in the heart, be a fish out of water; a square peg in a round hole, a puzzle piece that does not fit? They have always known their world, their people, their reality. Isaac did not. All he knew was his world, long gone, and his hell, which haunted him still. Such a stark contrast was so obvious, so clear- as evident as contrast between the Polaroid and the Negative.

They did not know how he felt. And he could never show them, for they would not understand.

Isaac slept.

Incursion

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*The Princess of the Night meditated in the preternatural quiet of her study. The undisturbed silence was a requirement for the ritual she was about to perform.

As the Guardian of the Dreamscape, she already possessed the capability to visit the dreams and minds of others. But for what she was attempting, the slightest disruption could very easily topple all the effort she was putting into it.

She intended to ‘observe’ the mind of the Demon Child. Or rather, to peruse his memories, determine his methods and uncover his falsehoods. In doing so, she would be presented with ample reason to eliminate him; even if by the slightest margin of a chance she did not find anything incriminating, it would give her a better scope of his capabilities should he ever turn against them. Either way, she was committing no crime. She was justified. She was right.

She breathed in. She breathed out. In, out. In, out.

The darkness of her closed eyes faded into a myriad of flowing, scintillating starscapes, overlaid with the true, real world, the Dreamrealm present before her. She would have to locate his mind first, but given the distinctive aura of suffering he presented even in reality, she would have no trouble.

She drifted to the northern reaches, the land where the world glittered with joy and love, effects of the Crystal heart. Luna could see his mind, a deep blue-violet shadow in the midst of the beauteous reds, pinks, whites, and greens around it.

Strange. Blue was the shade of sadness, yes, but violet was that of fear.

Luna ignored it. It was that of fear, yes, but of caution as well. Planning.

The shadelike spot grew larger, enveloped her as she delved into his mind. He was asleep. Good. That would make him vulnerable, a simple tread through subconscious, surface thoughts-

Luna immediately stopped as the aura began to dance a thousand colors, a thousand hues, yet not one without the shading of the blue on the surface. Such a thing was… impossible. Unheard of, inconceivable- the demon’s thoughts, even in the lull of sleep, were as a raging torrent of voices, memories, dreams.

The Night Princess steeled her nerves. She erected a barrier, one that would shield her from all but the strongest memories, and dove in.

She found herself in a small room. It was filthy, rank, as if the room itself were decomposing, sludge flowing through from grates on the walls. There was a single door ahead of her, over which a large, looming skull glared down at her. Her and the demon.

The demon looked… different. Not overly; he wore a simple eyepatch, and seemed somehow larger than Isaac. He held in his hands a bent paper clip, and a book with a strange, looping symbol embolized on the white cover. Behind him trailed a number of grotesque… infants, red, blue, bug-eyed and bloated with decay. He was bent over a chest, inserting the clip inside as it popped open.

Another baby’s corpse floated above it. The child laughed an empty, hollow laugh. “Every time. Every damn time, Abel.” It flew to the opposite side of the room. “Never any help, are ya’?”

He turned to the morbidly decorated door. “To think, he got out because he has the key that I don’t.”

He shook his head. Then he stopped. The child turned, until it seemed he was looking directly at Luna. She, of course, knew he couldn’t; memories could not observe her.

“What are you doin’ here?” He asked her.

The Princess blinked. Still uncertain, she delved further, into another memory.

Luna stood in a room made of crude, pine-wood planks, covered in cobwebs with pots strewn about seemingly at random. Slight streams of light filtered down from in between those above, along with a dusty, aged smell. Another child, this one with long, lanky dark hair, was shouting at what appeared to be thin air. Her voice was higher than Isaac’s. “Come at me! Chicken, Pin?”

Luna was confused. What was she-?

A large, wormlike creature broke through the floor, it’s trajectory launching itself at the princess. The child stood in front of her, the worm being knocked away by a flurry of tears and the child’s own punch. She rapidly turned to a deep shade of black, curved horns protruding from her head, as her tears became tinged with blood. Truly the demon she knew him to be. The worm popped up just once more before the tear tore it in half.

Luna stood astonished at the grim display. The child walked over to the worm, pulling a simple matchbook from it’s corpse. “Bah. Worthless.” She gave the body a kick, uncovering the trapdoor beneath. “Just like that jackass.”

She looked at the princess, presented her center finger. “The hell do you want?” She asked, before she hopped down the hatch.

The Night Princess peered after her, and fell, pulled in by the torrent of subconsciousness.

Luna, disoriented, now found herself in a room made entirely of blackened stone, filled with skulls and similarly blackened rocks. One more child stood on top of a large chest, laughing maniacally. As far as she could tell, the only obvious difference between this one and Isaac was the small fez on his head, and a rather notable disparity in their heights, this one being a great deal shorter.

“You hear me? FREE! NOT YOUR PAWN ANYMORE!” The child shouted, delighted. He turned to look down at something Luna could not see. “... Well, no, I…” He sighed, his demeanor darkening quickly.

Yet again, the child turned to Luna. “You shouldn’t be here.”

The child hopped off the chest, threw it open, and swung himself over the rim, inside. Luna looked after the child, but found nothing but an endless abyss. She shook her head. This was not what she was after. Once more, she pushed the spell harder, towards his memory.

Luna now entered a room flooded with water, smelling rank and musty. The flooding floor was laced with blood and bits of gore, and another child stood in front of a heaping amount of organs and flesh. This one, wearing a red bandanna over his long, thick hair, appeared battered, bloodied and bruised beyond believability. For all intents and purposes, he looked like he belonged in a coffin, not here.

He bore in his shaking hand a long, white sword, spattered gratuitously with blood. His face was contorted with an agony that even Luna found hard to disbelieve.

“I hate you.” He growled at the fetid flesh. “I hate you, I hate you…” He took the sword, slashing away with fury found in a life much longer than any child’s. He screamed, “YOU LEFT US!”

He turned to Luna, watering eyes crazed and anguished, and shouted, “LEAVE!”

Astonished by his outburst, she flinched in spite of herself. They could not harm her. She did do as he said, but only deeper into the maelstrom of dreams.

This time was different. The room she was in was strewn with coins and gems, built of wood and gold, filled with shelves on all sides. At the far end was an enormous statue of gold, of some large creature covering it’s gaping mouth in horror. She looked about. There appeared to be no one else here.

She prepared the cast again, but stopped when something stirred behind the monument. A figure walked out from behind it, but calling it a child would be generous. It was dried out, emaciated, and eyeless, a corpse, with a rope tied around it’s neck like a noose. It shuffled over to her, but stopped at an arm’s length away, and shook its head. It’s misshapen mouth made movements, but said nothing, and shuffled back to the statue, where it slouched against it in silence.

Luna, unnerved, did not take her eyes off it as she continued in.

Once more, she found herself in a room of built of boards and beams, though within there was a different child. He was coated in blood, presumably his own, sobbing in the corner of the room, hands over his head of orange hair.

“It’s not fair,” he wailed. “It’s not fair! He can’t just leave us!”

As he continued to cry, he would break into severe convulsions and concerning bouts of violent coughing, blood spattering the floor before him. “He… he wouldn’t.”

Without being noticed, Luna vanished, forcibly suppressing the overwhelming pity she felt for him. They are but a dream, of course. Nothing she could help. Not even real. And not her target.

The room she found herself in was completely dark. Not just difficult to see, but completely and utterly impossible. In spite of herself, she lit her horn rather than continuing uninterrupted. Technically, she was still learning of him, she reasoned. How… how… sadistic he was to imagine these suffering children.

As her horn’s light intensified, another child was revealed. He bore the appearance of a bat-winged demon, a decimated horn disrupting the symmetry of his sleek black hair.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. His inflection gave no hint of malice or hate, surprisingly calm and reasonable. “You need to leave. The further you go, the worse things will get.”

Luna shook her head, shook away the hints of remorse. She would not stop now. She could not. He was hiding something, She was certain.

The alicorn found herself back in the room built of wood, gold and shelves, Luna found herself muzzle-to-face with a child with crimson-red hair, skin black as coal, and a horribly bloodstained bandage covering her eyes. A small, black bat-like creature flew by her side, and a small, intricately filigreed box was tucked under her arm.

“What gives you the right,” the child shouted loudly at Luna. “to just waltz into his head like you own the damn place?”

Luna flapped her wings reflexively, agitated both in reality and in her own mind. This was growing tiresome, and an ordeal she was quickly growing to regret. The child did not flinch. “This is your last warning. Get you, Trojan Horse.”

The child turned her back to a very confused and very frustrated Luna, and walked out the door at the far end of the room.

Luna hesitated. By now, it was incredibly obvious that the dreams were reacting to her beyond the levels that they should. They were responding to the outside events far more than they should. And they seemed to be referring to either her, or Isaac whenever they spoke. This was dangerous territory. Dreams that were not dreams.

Even then, they were revealing much about the child. Demons and innocents occupied his subconscious. And yet, he did not mention them even once. But in all of this… she had not found one thing to condemn him. Not one dream or memory beyond the children who claimed he abandoned him. Was… she wrong about him? Was he truly but an innocent minor, lost and afraid? Or could this still be but an elaborate falsehood to deter her in her cause?

Luna longed to know. But she did not dare venture deeper. An idea dawned on her, though she loathed the thought - she could apologize to the last child in the room adjacent, and ask her. She may lie, she may tell the truth… but it would be better than leaving empty-handed.

The alicorn followed her into the next room. It was naught but a void of infinite blackness, in which she saw every child, standing around a simple, partially-open, wood-and-brass chest. Each of them glared at her, though some seemed more concerned than upset. At their head, one final unfamiliar child stepped forward. She looked nearly identical to Isaac, though she had a head of curly, buttercup-yellow hair with a crimson-red bow tied in.

“I’m sorry,” she said to Luna, her eyes pleading and remorseful. “You really, really need to leave.”

“I too, am sorry,” Luna replied, meeting the child’s eyes with her own unrelentingly steely gaze. “But I must know his intentions. I will not continue further should you inform me of his plans.”

“Pfah, as if we would know,” said the dark haired girl, blowing the hair from her face with a short sigh. “He hasn’t spoken to us in days, now.”

“You… you are not of the same mind?” Luna inquired. Were they prisoners of his rule?

“Get out,” The fez-wearing child snapped, glaring over his shoulder. “It isn’t your business.”

Luna returned the expression. “If it concerns the welfare of my people-”

“Then it’s not about us, and it’s not about him.” The horned demon said calmly, floating gently to a slow beat of his wings. “He poses no threat to you. He would not touch an innocent soul.”

“You should be more worried about what’s going to follow him,” the blindfolded girl taunted cheerily. She pointed a finger up under Luna’s face, her voice certain and serious. “Once a door opens, anything can follow through, whether we like it or not.”

Luna was almost relieved. A seam. “Then he allowed that… beast, into our world?”

“It’s not his fault,” The eyepatch-wearing child quickly defended. “He didn’t know. Isaac had no idea what was happening. He still doesn’t know.”

“He scrambles blindly in the darkness,” murmured the bleeding child. “Silence slowly sentencing him to solitude, in spite of the unrelenting noise of your world.”

He began coughing violently, blood spattering the floor once again. The bandanna-bearing boy supported him up on his shoulder. He gave Luna a glare that rivaled her own as the chest behind them creaked open a bit more. “Get out. You even being here is just making things worse. You’re just expanding the gate.”

Luna stood silent. She… she had been wrong. She had been harsh. Quick to find fault in the child without friends. He was a victim, caught in the crossfire between whatever once trapped him and her world. She had… tried to murder an innocent youth. And yet… she still had to be absolutely, one-hundred-percent certain. She did not want to accept that her judgement was wrong, that her good intentions had only bred more suffering. That she had attempted to murder an innocent in cold blood.

She took a step forward. Several children stepped forward, with the exclusion of the blonde one, the bandanna-wearer, the bleeding one, and the winged demon.

“Back off,” demanded the dark-haired girl. Her fists were clenched tightly, and her scowl conveyed such restrained fury that it very nearly caused Luna to falter.

The Night Princess took another step. She could see a little bit into the chest, but not much.

“You don’t know what you’re getting into,” the Redhead warned her. She popped open her lockbox, and out sprung a second bat demon, never taking it’s eyes off of the alicorn.

One final step. Luna could sense the presence of it’s harrowingly infinite emptiness.

The child with the bandanna threw down his bleeding companion, shouting a war cry as he lunged at Luna. She set off a bolt of magic, meant to deter him. The chest flashed, and she whited out as the Dreamrealm evicted her from his mind, leaving her an unconscious heap in her study.

Timorous

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*Isaac jolted awake, finding himself in a heap on the floor. His head rang painfully both outside and in, but it gradually faded to a dull whine in his ears as he picked himself up and brushed off. He could not recall his dream, but it must have been something terrible for such a feeling of dread to cling so thickly in his chest.

He took a moment to absorb where he was. The new room. His. Out the window. Sunlight. He looked back down to the floor. Crystal. He shut his eyes tightly and blindly moved towards the door, taking a deep breath. The child made a silent promise not to look out that window again.

Thunk.

He’d walked into the door. He ignored the resurgence of pain, pulling it open and peering around. To his left was one of the faintly luminescent Empire Guards, one of the Crystal ponies. It looked at him, flinching slightly, then giving him an insincere smile.

In a voice he determined to be female, she asked, “Are you ready to head out?”

Isaac swallowed his trepidation. “Yeah,” he said quietly.

She moved out in front of the door, and spoke to him with the stern tone most reserve for a misbehaving pet. “We’re going up to the dining room now. Don’t wander off.”

Isaac nodded, silently resenting her, then resenting himself for doing so. She hardly knew him, she had no reason to assume he were anything worthwhile or smart. It wasn’t her fault. She didn’t know.

The child followed her up a set of stairs and down a hall in silence, avoiding looking out the windows, and avoiding looking at her. As they turned a corner, they passed another pair of guards. One gestured to Isaac and nudged his companion. They stared at him as they passed.

Isaac looked down at the floor, clutching the cloak tighter around him. Maybe if I pull it tight enough, I’ll disappear, the thought oddly making him feel a bit better.

They turned around one more corner, and the guard opened a door towards the interior of the building, gesturing for Isaac to enter with her spear. The child looked in, seeing a well lit room with a large, intricately carved table spanning across to the rear end. Both Shining and Cadence sat next to each other at the far end, the latter waving him over.

The guard pony nodded and left Isaac at the door. He heard her grumble something about ‘poor taste in pets.’ He sighed, and started to walk over to the royals.

Cadence spoke first, asking him “How did you sleep?”

“Good, “ Isaac lied. He felt uneasy, having to look even further up to see their faces. They were creepier from this angle, the light fell differently, casting shadows in different places.

“Have a seat, then.” Shining motioned to the chair at his right.

Isaac climbed up awkwardly into the too-large chair. The size and proportions of it felt awkward. It sloped backward where it should forward, was flat where it should be curved. He felt like he was sitting on a hill. So he knelt on it instead.

“So Isaac,” Shining began, looking at him contemplatively. “Cadence and I have been deciding on how to go about teaching you.”

The child nodded. The unicorn continued, “And we’ve narrowed it down to two options. We can either hire a private tutor to teach you, lessons on the culture and such, or we could have you learn in the more public systems, with the other children in the city. You’d still have a tutor, to catch up, but would have a chance to get acquainted with other ponies.”

“We wanted to ask you which one you’d prefer,” Cadence clarified.

Isaac paused momentarily. His choice? He didn’t know for certain which he’d want; on one hand, the private tutor would be a great deal more comfortable for him, minimize interaction with those outside which saw him as an outsider. On the other, were he to join them in their classes, they’d become more familiar with him, and he with them.

He shuddered, recalling memories of school at home. Losing his pants, being ostracized for his efforts at connecting, even assaulted with dodgeballs. Sometimes all at once. But still, the chance at a connection… it was so tantalizing to have an opportunity to better understand their people through experience. Could he manage the bad with the good?

He thought a moment longer. He’d try.

“I want to try normal school.” Isaac said softly. He almost looked him in the eyes. Almost.

Cadence seemed particularly pleased with his decision, giving him a delighted smile. “Wonderful! The school year-start isn’t far off, now. It should be open tomorrow morning.”

Isaac paled. Tomorrow?

She managed to catch this, though she severely misinterpreted it’s significance. “Don’t worry, I’ve had some clothes made for you, they’ll be on your bed when you get back.”

I hadn’t even thought about that. When was the last time he had worn clothes? Long before he even entered the basement, he recalled. He wore robes, and occasionally pajamas, but that hardly qualified as clothing. No one else is dressed. I guess it’s fine. He nodded in understanding, though his face didn’t regain much color.

The child sat silently, now unsure of what to say, already trying to steel himself for tomorrow. They sat too, though they ate. Shining suddenly realized that he had not asked Isaac what he’d like to eat.

Isaac thought about it. He hadn’t eaten anything remotely good for him in almost his entire recollection of the basement. Dog food, spoiled milk, various organs, a multitude of mushrooms and pills... “I’m not hungry,” he said finally. He really wasn’t. He doubted they’d have anything he could stomach anymore.

“You haven’t eaten in the whole time you’ve been here,” Shining pointed out, relatively surprised. “You should eat something.”

“I’m just… I’m not hungry.” Isaac replied meekly. Is it really so strange? … It is.

He returned to silence under the perturbed looks of the others. He could feel his heart beating uneasily. Isaac shifted from his kneeling position to conform to the oddly shaped seat, the headache returning. If the ones who were trying to help me are this… unnerved, how different will the children see me?

He could almost hear them laughing already. Almost a chorus of ridicule, a mob of mockery. Or perhaps anger, hatred- they would run him out, like his mother did he.

No. There would be fear. All fear what they do not know. Maybe if I prove I’m not a danger, they might…

Isaac shook his head slightly, melancholy dragging him back to reality. High expectations lead to crushing realities.

He remained, uncomfortably, in a place not meant for him.

Contrite

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*Luna crashed awake the moment the light faded. She stumbled to her fours from the limp trance she’d held up until that point, heart racing.

She’d just been outright evicted from his mind. And she wasn’t entirely sure how. She used a spell, but not an escape spell. The raging child… she wasn’t sure he had ever touched her. The only other thing that occurred was that chest, then the flash. A power great enough to expel her from her domain… such a power was, as much of her experiences with Isaac, unprecedented. Nothing about him added up, nothing made sense, he was an anomaly, but…

He was not a danger.

Her suspicions had led her astray. All that effort to find evidence of his folly had led to yet another of her own. He had been innocent- strange, but blameless for what had transpired. She- the protector of innocent lives- had persecuted, threatened, and nearly murdered him. And only on the fallacious suspicion she held, that she may be saving others.

She only hurt more.

Isaac was not the monster. And yet she had only made it clearer she was. Once again she had failed to protect the peace.

How badly she had failed. Her dearth of compassion left her bereft of all but obsession. To protect her kind, she had ignored his plight.

How wretched she felt. How hollow.

She snapped her attention away from her own mind. No. She would not yield to self pity.

Luna walked over to the window. Dawn streamed in, but even the light of her sister’s sun was unable to relieve her of the shame clutching her heart.

This abject depravity was well deserved, but Luna could not simply let it be suppressed in tense silence. She knew this lesson well. Enough.

She breathed, in, out. In, out. She would make amends, The Night Princess vowed silently. She would find a way to make it up to the boy. Somehow.

Her thoughts drifted to the treasure chest that had opened. All the children had been incredibly adamant that she not get near it- and it was quite obvious something had happened when she did. Not only that, but it wasn’t as if the children were worried for the box- rather, it almost had come off as them being afraid for her.

The raging child had mentioned her presence widening the gate. Had the chest itself been a danger, the gate he spoke of? Had she been in danger by nearing it? Mortified, she began to consider what else may pass through, if the last beast was but a glimpse of what may come. If larger creatures, more dangerous ones arrived- what then?

She may have committed far worse of a crime than she had imagined. She may have not only fallen on false suspicions, but now endangered her ponies again. So many would fall, so many would suffer, and it would all be her doing, her fault, her failings, her crimes-

The Princess stopped. Stopped cold. Focused on nothing. Steeled herself. She could not afford to be weak. To give into her fears of failings. Not now. Not ever.

Luna gave a frustrated sigh, and turned back to her study. Too headstrong, she had been. Too arrogant. She should have complied, asked the children, sought information through trust, not defiance. She knew not how she could speak to them again; she would not dare return in such a fashion.

As she began tidying the resulting mess her collapse had caused, she considered alternatives. Perhaps she could inquire of them through Isaac himself. If they had been of the same mind once, he may know of the chest they had been guarding.

Assuming he would talk to her once she admitted her unwarranted invasion of his mind.

She paused. Should she tell him? Anyone? Would it be wise? It would serve only to demonize herself, and sow distrust and disdain among her friends. And she could not be certain that the child would forgive her. She wouldn’t, in his position. But how else could she learn more of the danger to come?

No. She could not reveal her indiscretion. The only effects would be negative, and likely outweigh the lottery that is the chance he knows anything. They had said he’d not spoken with them in some time- perhaps he knew not of them anymore.

Whatever may come of it, she would handle it. She must. It was her duty to protect the innocent, and she needed to correct her errors on her own.

Luna slotted the final book into it’s place on the shelf, and left her study to complete her final duties of her night.

See

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*Isaac followed to the left of Shining as he showed him around more of the castle. He would point out landmarks outside the windows- those, Isaac ignored while trying to seem interested- and various tapestries and statues within, which Isaac was entranced by; they were beautifully woven, excellently carved, and the scenes some depicted surprised Isaac with their history- A whole kingdom enslaved, by a single unicorn. The child could feel their pain in the expressions. He understood their plight, in some small way. The feeling made him bit more at ease about being here.

Though he still felt nervous about tomorrow.

He was being dropped in a group of children who had known each other far longer than he had. And while he was now learning the absolute basics of their culture, they were raised on it. They inherently knew things he didn’t, and whatever he knew likely would not ever be of use.

On top of that, he had not been to a school at all in the past… as long as he could recall. Granted, the last school he had attended was only a small portion of early grade school, but it could have been important. If he remembered. Maybe.

And he could not neglect the elephant in the room, the species. Oranges to Apples. An insignificant, disappearing ice cube to a roaring, bright fire. He was so strange, so alien, compared to them… a barrier nothing could surmount.

Nothing would ever make them accept what he is. Nothing would mend the disparity of experiences. And nothing could entice them to like who he is.

If his experience thus far was as exemplary as he feared, they would not understand this. Even less so would they understand him. Cadence was trying- he could tell- but he didn’t think she was nearly as comprehending as she thought she was. Isaac tugged at the cloak with one hand, gripping it tightly. What would she say if he told her?

Bitterly, he imagined the conversation.

“It’ll be fine. We’ll just put you somewhere else,” she’d say.

“But what would stop it from happening again?” he’d ask.

She’d smile. That smile he was growing to loathe. “Don’t worry, it won’t!”

He glared at the floor. His gaze softened after a moment. It was not her fault.

A light refracted from a window into his eyes. He looked away with a hiss of irritation, and then realized Shining had been talking that whole time. At the very least, he wasn’t looking at Isaac expectantly again.

“... and that’s when Spike- that dragon, from back in Canterlot- he caught the Crystal Heart, midair. It gave Cadence enough time to reach him and restore the Crystal Heart’s power,” Shining said, gesturing to an overlarge statue of the reptile in question.

Isaac looked over, and had to crane his neck to see the face. He stood on two legs in the typical ‘hero’ stance, one arm placed on the hip, the other holding up a replica of the floating heart at the center of the city. The dragon’s brow was furrowed in determination, eyes set on the replica heart in it’s claws…

The dragon was so drastically and obviously different from the ponies. And yet he had achieved such a level of reverence as to be granted monuments and historical importance. In the brief moment Isaac had seen him, he hadn’t acted as a hero, he hadn’t acted as some historical titan… Spike was just… there. He hadn’t even said much.

Perhaps the statue exaggerated more than just his scale.

Though it did make Isaac wonder which was more accurate. Did they just take what they noticed of the moment? Did he? Did those Spike had never met know him better than those that he had?

Is… is that how ponies perceive one another? Deed alone? Did the one behind them mean nothing? Isaac mused, looking over at Shining armor. Who they are behind the act… do others ever know?

Shining caught his gaze. “Isaac? Is something wrong?”

Isaac shook his head. “N-no. I was just…”

“Just…?” Shining inquired, raising one brow.

“I, uh… just thinking…” Isaac looked back at the statue, searching for an excuse, something else he could talk about. “I don’t… he wasn’t that big in person.”

Shining gave a short chuckle. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure the pony who made it wasn’t going for accuracy. She insisted on making it, though, after hearing what he did for us.”

Isaac nodded, giving a short ‘oh’ of understanding. But that only served to reaffirm his impression of their impressions. Actions, not feelings. Facts, not thoughts. Deeds, not words. If he did nothing, he was nothing.

What was within was not without. But what they see outside… that’s what they know, so that is who they are, to them. The child determined. His headache returned. To all of them...

Isaac did not like this. But speaking this aloud would yield no change.

Shining motioned for him to follow. Isaac complied, stealing away one last look at the statue, a monument to facades, an example the world demanded he follow.

*As Isaac slept that night, he had a dream.

All was dark. Silent. And hot. The child felt nothing above, nothing below, only the sensation of falling, faster than he could ever imagine.

He would’ve screamed if he had any air.

‘They rise, my lamb. The eldest comes first, leaves first,’ a deeply resonant voice intoned, the vibrations threatening to shake Isaac apart. ‘Your kind, they will fall, children, parents, loved ones... All will fall, my lamb.’

It gave a short, menacing gasp of a laugh, sounding more like the roar of a beast than that of a normal human, or pony. ‘Let the floodgates open. Let the tide rise. All will be pure in the end.’

Isaac did not sleep well. He could not recall the dream the next day.

Inundate

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*“Isaac,” he heard someone call softly. Cadence. “Wake up.”

Isaac, in truth, had been awake since before dawn. Whatever he’d dreamed about, it left him unable to even think about sleeping. It had rattled him to the core… and yet no matter how hard he tried, he could not remember what it was.

He tried to push the dream out of his mind. The world demanded his attention.

He sat up, and immediately jerked away, smacking his head into the bed’s backboard. Cadence had been very close to him. Well, a good two feet away, but he hadn’t expected it.

She recoiled, wincing at the impact. Reached out instinctively, then retracted her foreleg. “Are you okay?”

Isaac, cringing at the developing bruise, nodded. He shifted over and slipped off the bed, rubbing his eyes, then his head. He’d honestly had worse.

He could hear rain in the distance. Soft, but there. He didn’t look out the window though, instead looking over at his apparent guardian. Cadence gave him a patient smile, which Isaac returned halfheartedly, unsure of it’s meaning.

“So did you try on the clothes yesterday?” she asked him.

“Yes,” he replied quietly. Shining Armor asked me that before, yesterday night. Why didn’t she ask him? “They’re fine.”

In actuality, he was pretty surprised by how uncannily similar to his old ones, minus the nonexistent shoes. A sky-blue shirt and olive-green shorts, devoid of decoration. The pants had pockets, though they were angled strangely, straining his wrists to get his hands inside. It was all stiff, all starchy, as if they’d been a solid mass prior. It felt more like wearing thick paper than cotton. Still, he appreciated the thought, and the modesty they provided. He threw on the grey cloak as well, planning to return it to Shining if and when he saw him.

Cadence turned away while he dressed, at his request.

Even though she already saw me… he pushed the thought away.

Once he finished dressing, she turned and asked, “Are you still not hungry?”

Isaac shook his head. She gave the same concerned look as before, but did not question it. “Then you’re ready to go to school?”

No. “Yes.”

Smiling again, she started to guide Isaac through the halls. Isaac caught a brief glimpse of the sky outside before looking away. There was a large cluster of stormclouds looming menacingly on the horizon. Even with the tremendous height of the window, Isaac couldn’t see their top.

“It’s… it’s going to rain in the city today?” he asked Cadence.

“Hm? Oh, yes. The weather ponies were scheduled for a storm today, it helps to clean off the buildings.” She informed him. “It’s pretty rare for them to use such heavy stormclouds though.”

Isaac nodded, though he didn’t quite understand how anyone was controlling the weather. He did like the rain though. God’s Tears, his mother had called it. Notably less painful than his own. Regardless, the rain sounded nice, monotonous. White noise.

Eventually the two of them reached the exit at the bottom of the tower. The Crystal Heart still beat with his own, but not so strongly as before. He focused on the other ponies so he could avoid looking at the city itself.

Shining armor was waiting for them, giving his wife a quick embrace. Isaac noticed two other guards with him, standing sentinel behind him. One was holding a small satchel, brown, with a brass buckle holding it shut. Before he could ask, Cadence started to speak.

“Okay, Isaac,” the alicorn explained to him. “Shining’s going to take you to school on his way to the southern barracks. It’s not too far from here.”

Isaac wished she’d told him beforehand, but nodded comprehensively. There wouldn’t be much I could change about it anyway.

Shining gestured for Isaac to follow. As the child fell in line with the captain, he began to unclasp the cloak. He held it up to Shining meekly, mumbling “This is yours…”

Shining held up a hoof and shook his head (while still walking, raising questions to Isaac’s mind). “You can keep that. I’ve got another, and you’ll need it for the rain today.”

But it’s not… it’s yours, not mine. But the boy did not argue, trying to focus on something other than his surroundings.

Isaac felt a drop of water hit his head. He refused to look up at the sky. Another. He held out his hand as more began to fall, and the rain developed into an unnatural deluge. Isaac pulled the hood up, slightly obscuring his vision. He didn’t mind that.

“Speaking of which,” Shining gave a short laugh. A sort of glowing, cyan dome appeared over him, as well as the guards, shielding them from the rain. He extended it over Isaac as well. The rain fell harder.

I’m fine, stop helping me. You already gave me the hood. I don’t need this much. I don’t want it. But he said “Thank you” anyway.

“Are you excited Isaac? To meet your new friends?” Shining asked him. Isaac could hear him attempting to suppress the excitement in his voice.

Isaac was not. He was anxious. Terrified. He was being dropped in the deepend, expected to swim without knowing how. It was certainly not helped by Shining Armor’s obvious expectation to adapt instantly, nor the incomprehensive worry of his wife.

I don’t get it. Why would they think I’d be fine? Why did I? I’m not like them, and they’re not like me. This is scary, but they’re more worried about what happened and what I don’t want or need… they don’t ask me how I feel. They ask me how they think I feel. His expression drooped from the neutral one he was forcing.

Isaac spoke after a moment. “No.”

Shining, perturbed, asked, “Why? Is something wrong?”

Isaac could feel his heart beat harder, but steadily. “No. I’m not excited to meet them.” he said softly.

Shining asked again.

“Can’t… can’t you figure it out?” Isaac said unevenly. He was silent choking back sobs as his eyes watered beneath the hood.

The unicorn was silent a moment. “You’re nervous, aren’t you?”

Isaac swallowed the lump in his throat without it returning. Momentarily, he began to hope that Shining actually understood. Did… did he-

“Hah, don’t be!” Shining Armor said cheerfully. “It’ll be fine.”

Splash.

The water from the rain had risen up out of the gutters, onto the roads.

“Look, we’re here.” Shining looked down under Isaac’s hood. The child had already wiped away his tears. Isaac held what he thought was an excited countenance. “I’ll take you inside, then I’ll see you at the end of the day, okay?”

Isaac wanted to say no. But he said yes anyway.

Shining opened the door, which let a surprisingly large amount of water in, and quickly ushered Isaac inside, closing it behind them. A half-a-dozen or so staring faces greeted them, all but one pair of eyes on the boy. All the students had stopped what they were doing, and the teacher walked over to Shining.

Isaac felt like his heart was falling out of his chest. The silence was only broken when the teacher started talking to Shining. The child was deaf to it. All he could see was the looks on their faces. Confusion, fear, interest, curiosity… disgust.

They know too. I’m not like them.

The rain was roaring, wind howling. Some students started to look out the window. An enormous crushing sound seemed to almost shatter the air, though none could mistake it for thunder. The children screamed. The teacher yelped, and set about calming the children. Shining, now wary, charged a spell.

Isaac looked at the floor. There were deep cracks in it, and water was rushing in rapidly from the door behind him.

The floor fell out from beneath them as they plummeted into abyss.

Author's Notes:

I seem to have a poor habit of causing Isaac to wake up to head trauma. Huh.

I added soundtracks to the previous chapters, and this one too- Clicking the '*' signs links to youtube videos for the songs. Hope you enjoy!

Seriously, thank you ALL for the support you give the story! It's great to see so many people enjoying my writing.

Uh... well, it seems that TrueGentleman has dropped off the face of the earth, so I guess he isn't an editor anymore.

Appreciation for HydraLightning, who proofread this chapter and hopefully future ones.

Special thanks to awesomesauce4 for giving me the motive to write, rewrite, and start this story! Check their Isaac story too, it's great! |The Unbinding|

I'm only just now on episode 15 of season five. I've been terrible about keeping up as they're released since the end of season 4. Eheh.

Kave Diluvii

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*Shining Armor was awoken by a nudge to his side, and a vaguely irritated, low voice talking to him. He could feel cold water swirling around him, and rough stone beneath him. The stallion was drenched on his entire left side.

“Hey, get up.” Shining felt a harder shove, then a kick. “Move it, dammit, before I leave you here.”

The unicorn groaned, and rose to his haunches, unsteady, head swimming. Water dripped off his mane and stained his attire. The darkness made it difficult to see, but he looked over at his reluctant alarm, and was befuddled by what he saw. “Isaac…?”

“Look again.” the child replied, stepping forward with a small splash.

Before him stood a human child, yes, but far different than the one he knew. He was taller, leaner, with one eye covered by a black patch. After a moment, he noticed these distinctions- along with a single, black-metal wire hanger impaled through his entire head.

By Celestia, what had happened to him? Shining rose up, quickly checking Isaac’s head for further trauma. The boy shoved him off, looking more annoyed than afraid. But Shining did confirm one thing.

That wasn’t Isaac. And that hanger really did go right through his head. “Are you-”

“Fine,” the child replied tersely. He jammed a thumb towards the door behind him. “Head back two rooms and to the left, go wait with the others.”

Shining, affronted by his standoffish attitude, shook his head. “Where are we? And who-”

“Flooded Caves, and I’m Cain. Not Isaac.” the child replied, already shoving past Shining to the door at the far end. “Go wait with the others.”

“Listen-” the unicorn protested, growing frustrated with ‘Cain’.

“I’d rather not.”

That’s it. Shining threw up a magic barrier in front of Cain, blocking the door. “You’re going to do some explaining right now-”

“Or you won’t let me continue, I get it.” Cain rolled his one eye.

“Stop-”

“Interrupting you?” he raised a brow.

Shining stepped up close. “Yes. That. You’ll be quiet while I ask the questions, okay?”

Cain, smirking, zipped his lips mockingly, and nodded.

Splashes sounded off in a room not too far, one set in a rhythmic duo, and the other in a skittish quartet. A child led a pony through the shadowy drenched cavern, by the light of an azure candle.

“H-how do you even know where we’re going?” The colt asked him nervously.

The child thought about giving him a smile, but it seemed like the wrong response. “A friend told me.” He replied in what he thought was a reassuring tone. If… if I can really call him that.

Isaac turned looked over his shoulder at the foal. The shivering, soaking pony was glancing around anxiously, as if he were afraid the walls themselves would hurt him. Isaac knew how he felt. The looming darkness gave way to paranoia as time passed, shadows moving in the corner of his eyes.

Briefly, he had the fleeting thought that the colt could be like him. But… it’s the place. What’s happening now is why he’s… He’s just afraid.

But at least he understood that. And at the very least he could at least get him to relative safety.

He thought back to what he felt was ages ago, though it had only been perhaps an hour. Rare was the occasion where two children’s paths crossed. And rarer was the times where they helped each other so.

And Isaac honestly had never thought he’d see them again.

“Isaac?” he heard a voice call him among a heavy rain. The child had jolted awake, coughing up a fair amount of filthy water. “Damn. It really is you.”

If Cain had been surprised to see Isaac, it was nothing to how Isaac felt about seeing Cain. Between wet gasps for air, he managed, “Cain? Y-you’re here?”

Cain had picked Isaac up by the shoulders, and embraced him quickly. Just enough to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. Not long enough for Isaac to register it. He released him and stepped back, giving him a cursory look over with his working eye. “I should be asking you the same. Where have you been?”

Isaac nervously replied, “I got out.”

Cain rolled his eye. “Yeah, I got that much. But where did you go?”

He didn’t know where to begin. “Uh… outside. It’s not the same as before. There’s no people. It’s all… colorful. Really magic.”

Cain scoffed, and pointed up with one hand. “Up there, then?”

Isaac looked up. He could see the clouds roiling above, and had to wipe the rain from his face. A massive hole had swallowed up the school, and much of the area around it. Isaac couldn’t see any rubble, or any sign of it’s existence. Just the gaping void open to the storm above.

More importantly, he didn’t see any of the ponies that fell with him.

“C-Cain!” Isaac turned to him rapidly, in a panic. “W-we have to find them!”

“Find who?” Cain inquired, one brow raised.

Isaac gave an exasperated breath. “Th-the ponies that fell down! The school collapsed!”

Cain gave Isaac a skeptical glance, crossing his arms. “And you want to go back in the caves and find them, instead of getting yourself out.”

Isaac paused. I… no. The smaller child nodded vigorously. I can’t leave them here.

Cain threw his hands up, but smiled. “Good on you then. I’ve cleared out the rooms behind me, you check those again. Then take the left, I’ll head to the right.”

He stepped up to Isaac, and pushed a glowing blue light into his dripping hands. It dried him from the chest outward. “You’ll need the candle. Darker than usual this time around.”

Isaac, stunned by the sudden generosity, nodded silently.

“Bring them back here, seems like the best extraction point,” Cain paused, looking over his shoulder at Isaac. His gaze softened, quickly darting away from Isaac’s own, then back to him with legitimate concern. “Isaac… be safe, okay? We need to talk soon.”

Cain ran past Isaac to the next room.

Isaac had just enough time to say “Thank you” before the door shut behind the older child.

Isaac shielded his eyes as a door gave way to the dull light of the rainstorm outside. Before the child could say anything to the colt, he found himself shoved aside as the foal ran past him, almost wailing with relief. Isaac did not blame the colt, but he was more than a little upset over the push.

“Run!” He heard someone call from ahead. The student he’d just escorted was waving frantically for him to follow.

Isaac paused, in spite of himself. Perhaps the colt had not run to the room, but from this one. He turned around slowly, prepared for the worst.

It was simply a nerve ending. A single tendril, poking up through the ground. Harmless.

“It’s okay,” Isaac called back, unused to utilizing a tone so loud. He’s safe. I’m safe.

The tendril stopped dead. It eerily bent over, towards Isaac, who’d already moved to be between the colt and the enemy. It… it never moves. It never does this.

“Move away,” Isaac said lowly to the student, on guard.

Before the pony took a single step, the nerve ending shot forward, at Isaac- and over his shoulder. The human could just turn quickly enough to catch a glimpse of the colt being whipped past him and pulled into the water, and down with the nerve ending. Isaac was thrashed down into the water, the candle thrown aside. He quickly staggered up, searching the area for any sign of the colt. The child fell to his knees at the place he’d been pulled under.

No no no no no no.

He heard hoofsteps at the door.

“Was that Quartz Watch?” someone said.

“What happened?” Asked another.

“Where’d he go?”

“I… I don’t…” Isaac could feel his heart sinking, as if it too had been pulled under. His eyes were wide, and tearing without his consent, staring at the disturbed soil beneath the murky water. The colt was gone. And Isaac hadn’t been able to do anything.
I... failed him. This is my fault, and I can’t even rescue them from my own mistake. I don’t even know where he is. If he’s alive.

He was crying in silence. They’d think he killed him. They’d rather blame him, an alien to them, over his death. And I… I deserve-

“Are you okay?” someone asked.

The child looked around, hiding his eyes with the cloak’s hood. One of the fillies had walked over, about to touch him on the back to find for herself.

Isaac scrambled to his feet, discretely wiping away his tears and flipping back the hood. He was just a bit shorter than most of the schoolchildren. “I-I’m fine. I can’t find… Quartz.” He swallowed the lump in his throat, hoping it hadn’t shown in his voice.

Isaac recognized the teacher, who asked, worried, “Did he go back in?”

Isaac shook his head. Then he cursed himself. What could I tell them? I don’t know what happened. But if I tell them… they could panic. I would. The thought of being dragged into the ground without a warning… “I… he…”

At the back of the room, something stirred in the shadows. “Get out!”

The few ponies outside the doorway scrambled away. The shadow lashed at them with an air-cracking whip, missing narrowly, and returning to its upright position. Isaac slaughtered it with a flurry of his tears, the viscera that composed it splattering the wall of the cave.

They all stared at either the stain of gore, or him as he stood panting, tears freely flowing down his face. Until he noticed, his face was set rigid, fierce, protective… but when he saw their shock, it quickly faded. Everyone was silent for a moment.

Hesitantly, the teacher stepped forward. “Are you really alright?”

Isaac was silent. He looked over where Quartz had been taken. If they could see that… I have to tell them. The human spoke quietly so his voice would not break. “He got taken. I saw it.”

“What?” She asked. The other students started to whisper to each other.

He refused to look at them. They didn’t need to see him cry more. “Quartz. One of those... one of the monsters pulled him under. I don’t know where.”

The teacher started to move toward him. He moved away. Please… just don’t. If there’s anything I don’t want, it’s condolences that he deserved.

The floor between them erupted with an ear-piercing roar, showering them all in debris and rainwater. The doorway was destroyed, opening the entire wall to the light outside. Isaac was first to recover. The students and teacher were behind the monstrosity that had divided them.

It was the posthumous facsimile of a child long abandoned. The malformed beast of many heads. The bleeding bones of a flesh-borne failure.

The Stain had arrived, water and blood running down the tissue of it’s body, the conjoined skulls shining with both. He could almost feel the unsettling sensation of it’s blood pulsing under the thin layer of gore. Isaac could see several tendrils had been severed, and bled severely. There were still two remaining.

One was holding the still form Quartz Watch in it’s grip.

The other held Cain’s limp body.

Befall

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*It really didn’t need to happen. It really didn’t. And Shining knew it. But he’d been too slow. If he had only been a second faster… He did not dwell on what if’s. He had to run.

Moments ago, things had been proceeding… well, they had been proceeding. Cain had explained a few things to him - namely the situation, and the danger posed for those who fell - and how he and Isaac were searching for them to bring them back to the opening. Though he refused to explain who he was, stating adamantly that he would not speak of it without Isaac’s permission.

He had proved no threat, however. Cain had actually been quite an aid; He already knew the layout of majority of the caves. Cain had dealt with most of their creatures - leaving a large amount of questionable fluids and viscera chunks behind - using what Shining understood was his own tears. He could sense the magic they contained, similar to that he’d noted in Isaac.

But whereas Isaac’s was thick with concern, with frantic unease… Cain’s was worried. Remorseful. But calm. Cain was like stone. Guarded, passive, with only the deepest etches showing on the surface.

Shining hadn’t been sure he could trust him entirely.

They’d been escorting one of the last few foals - the one Shining now carried on his back - to the main room, where hopefully Isaac had found the last of them. By then the guard would be there, if they weren’t already, and take them out of the cave system. Then Cain would talk.

Or at least, that had been the plan. Now the plan was to get them all out as fast as they could, and hope that Cain would be able to talk. If they could find him.

One moment, he was walking Shining back toward the main room. He was held midair the next. Gone in three seconds, taken by some reddish tendril that Shining had seen Cain slaughter dozens of by this point.

Many of the same now appeared in every room, quickly struck down with bolts of magic, deflected by the same. It was a frantic, uncertain race which would only end in one of two ways.

Shining prayed his memory served him right, running in through the darkness, only the brief lighting of his self defense illuminating the suffocating darkness. There were many times his hoof met the void of the watery depths - several times he ended up swimming, tenaciously clinging to the foal.

He met brief reprieve when he finally reached the main room. Rain met his already-soaked face, and he gave a sigh of relief, letting the foal off his back.

Then he heard it roar.

Shining’s head quickly whipped over to the source, and he gagged at the sight. It was some abomination, composed of pulsating flesh, capped with misshapen skulls. The remains of a dozen or so tendrils bled- no, poured out blood in thick streams- into the water. The stallion saw the children and teacher scramble away in a blind panic, roughly in his direction.

He saw one of the foals being dangled in front of the creature, away from him. He wasn’t kicking or screaming, he was just… there. He saw Cain being held by the ankle, swaying around like a ragdoll. No struggle.

“No!” He heard a faint yell. Isaac. He couldn’t see him, but he heard him.

The creature shuddered, and dove beneath the ground, taking Cain and the foal with it. Shining ran past the fleeing foals, to Isaac. The child ran past Shining carrying something blue and glowing, not even acknowledging him.

“Isaac?” the guard captain called.

“Get them out!” Isaac called back, stopping briefly to look at him. Tears streamed down the human’s face, in spite of the resolute tone his voice carried. “It’s gonna come back, they need to get out of here."

Shining, taken aback by the tone of Isaac's command, paused only moment before he followed through. The stallion ran over to the group of ponies who had gathered in the far corner. “Stay close together, I’m going to get us out.” he reassured them.

They huddled together, some crying, some whimpering, all drenched thoroughly from their ordeal. Shining quickly set about lifting them up, the strain of his magic use becoming more prevalent with each one he deposited at the top of the cliff. He dared not look around when the ground erupted beyond his vision, instead redoubling the his efforts.

He closely heard the splashing of footsteps in the rain, quickly followed by the dull roar of a fire - the captain turned, and saw Isaac standing between him and that hideous creature. A wall of eerie blue flames divided them from it. Shining finally saw what Isaac had been holding - a simple candle, the same flames as the barrier dancing at it’s tip.

Shining shook himself from his temporary daze. “Isaac, get over here, I gotta get you out right now.” he demanded of the child.

Isaac looked over at Shining. Behind him, showers of blood tossed by the monster evaporated against the flames. “Get yourself out. I need to save them.” he said shakily, unable to look at Shining’s face.

Before he could object, Isaac ran through the fires, unscathed, and swung the candle at the monster. A blue fireball ignited it’s body, and it dove under again with a screech.

Shining was stunned by this. Isaac had seemed so helpless… so frail. And yet he was the one fighting for the lives of others while he stood on the sidelines. Momentarily, he was jealous. He didn’t like the feeling of… of being so useless. A bystander.

The fires were lowering. Shining, catching a brief glimpse of the both Cain and the last foal, the human in the far corner, the foal not far. The stallion leaped over the last lights of the blue flames, toward the foal. Isaac threw blaze after blaze at the behemoth everywhere it rose, keeping it away from Shining.

He reached the foal, quickly severing the tendril binding it with a quick swipe of a spell. The foal never touched the ground, immediately being flown up to the clifftop.

He didn’t take two steps before everything fell apart again.

The monster rose right behind the tendril binding Cain, dangling him precariously in front of its multifaceted face. Isaac half-waved the candle, stopping abruptly at the sight. The beast laughed, a horrible, grinding growl that sent chills down even Shining’s spine.

It tossed Cain high, high into the air. He very nearly seemed to peak above the cliffs themselves.

Isaac didn’t move fast enough, the flames reaching too late.

Shining reacted too slowly, his mind too sluggish, his spell dying on his horn.

The monster’s tentacle soared skyward at incredible speed spearing the child in the back as he fell back down to the earth.

The flames danced wildly as it finally blazed across the creature’s whole body in a brilliant azure inferno. The monster exploded violently, it’s charred chunks spattering the area around.

The tendril bearing it’s last victim weakly sunk down again, stopping just before Cain touched the ground.

*Isaac was speechless. Motionless. Mortified. Cain had just been… eviscerated. He was still here, dripping the blood into the water like ink. Right here, before his eyes.

I failed him.

Isaac bolted towards him, crying silently. He looked over at the other child’s front. The tendril had ruptured the spine, pierced his left lung, and shattered his rib cage. Blood had already ceased flowing, the last drops already crusting to the body.

Isaac wanted to pull him down, hold him tightly, for days, years, forever… if only it would make him okay, make him okay, make him okay, make HIM OKAY - ... but he didn’t. Isaac looked up at Cain’s dead face. He stared long enough to capture every detail, every scratch, nick and bruise the Stain inflicted on him. He saw how the wire coat hanger had impaled him, dead center of either side of the head. There was a small screw twisted in his neck, just beneath the chin.

Isaac removed Cain’s eyepatch. The glass eye beneath was shattered, tearing apart the socket in a bloody display. Isaac wrapped the patch around his wrist, closing Cain’s eyes as best he could.

I’m sorry.

He held up the candle. He ignored Shining’s protests, closing his own eyes and turning away from them both. The boiling hot tears rolling down his cheeks fell into the water.

Mixing with Cain's blood.

I’m so sorry.

The corpse was lost to the flames.

Author's Notes:

This...
I'm not going to say I cried while writing the end...
But I did need to stop momentarily to collect myself.

I drew this a long time ago when I first thought of this chapter. Or rather... these three chapters. (Hard to believe I ever thought that 4000+ word section would be one.
Either way, here's something rather gruesome.

If you liked my art, I posted some other stuff in this blog post too, if you haven't seen it.

Thank you all so much. I love seeing your support. I love seeing how much you care about the characters. I love seeing people enjoy my work!

Thank you TrueGentleman, HydraLightning, and ShamelessOC for editing and proofreading for me!

Special thanks to awesomesauce4 for giving me the motive to write, rewrite, and start this story! Check their Isaac story too, it's great! |The Unbinding|

Gelid

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*It was cold.

Isaac sat beneath an emergency tent, erected by the empire guards just outside of the gaping hole where the school was. They’d taken his clothes, dried him off, wrapped him in a blanket. Cadence and Shining were there, both having had only a moment to confirm his well-being before needing to address the citizens and the guard.

Isaac hadn’t heard a word of it, nodding mechanically, shivering in the damp chill.

He was cold.

Cain isn’t.

But Isaac was.

…

He couldn’t stop seeing the eyes. The last moments. He’d caught Cain’s face a moment before he’d… ante mortem.

They’d been… sad. But not afraid. Regretful. Remorseful. Almost… apologetic.

Then they’d bulged obscenely in horror and agony, a scream being silenced on his lips by the splash of blood that elicited it.

‘Isaac… be safe, okay? We need to talk soon.’

Isaac shuddered. He never would know what Cain needed to say.

Ponies ran around, back and forth, expressions of fear, relief, and worry crossing their faces. Voices shouted. Screams. Crying.

But none for Cain. Nobody mourned him but Isaac. And nobody would.

It’s not fair. He never did them wrong. He saved them. He helped them live. And no monuments are made for him. No honors to his name. Isaac stared at the small flickering of the blue candle. They don’t even know it.

He’d received glares. Shouts of anger and hatred. Pitiful glances. Grateful smiles. Thank-you’s. Not one “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Isaac unwrapped the eyepatch from his grip. He refused to let go of it, even when they were taking his clothes. Crusted blood flaked off his palm.

I’m sorry. I couldn’t save you. Isaac rubbed off the blood, holding it in his open hand. I couldn’t. I wasn’t good enough.

He felt empty. He wanted to cry, but he just couldn’t. He didn’t have it left in him; there was nothing left, it felt. Isaac just wanted to have everything be still, until he could… until he could deal with this again. Until he could feel this again.

He wanted things to just stop. He felt like his heart he dropped out of his chest and fallen into his stomach. He just felt sick. No one else cared at all for the only one who had died here today. They didn’t care. And Isaac couldn’t even mourn him properly.

No tears shed over his death beyond his own.

...

He didn’t even know why he’d lit the body.

Maybe he didn’t want Cain to be buried, trapped again. His ashes would spread. He’s… he’s in the sky now.

But he still could not face the sky. He could only stare at the bloody eye cover, and the blue flame of Cain’s parting gift.

He wasn’t sure how long he would sit there. But he wouldn’t leave until his heart had thawed.

It remained cold as he eventually succumbed to exhaustion, and slept.

Cadence had finally finished dealing with the disaster of today.

The south end of the city had been swarmed with a veritable army of fleshy monsters, that would rise over and over from their apparent destruction. It had been a flawless invasion; the city may very well have been taken if they hadn’t stopped so suddenly.

The entirety of the guard had been required to evacuate and defend the city, which left nopony to help those trapped in the fissure where the school had been. Even Cadence herself was preoccupied with protecting the empire, striking down waves of the amorphous masses of flesh and tendons every time they began to raise.

And when they finally arrived at the crater…

They were all out, except Isaac and Shining. Several stood at the edge, looking down at them. Her husband was struggling to pull Isaac away from a dying blue flame, the child pulling himself from his grip every time with a shout of distress, broken and weakened by silent sobs. She herself had to pull them out, Isaac finally relenting only when the flame died completely.

She had talked to Shining about what had happened. It seemed Isaac had watched someone he knew be… killed. Cain. He’d burned the body.

Cadence was worried for him. But she needed to attend to the kingdom, reassure them that the city was safe, and the monsters had been eradicated. Shining had to attend to the guard. So they only had time to make sure he was okay before they had to leave him with the rest of the recovering children.

Now though, he was asleep. And she was taking him home, as the rain turned to snow beyond the empire’s boundaries. The moon shone brightly, lighting the halls of the castle as she carried him over her back. She held the azure candle in her mystic grip; she needed to study its magical properties, it had already proved to be a dangerous weapon.

She pulled the covers back on his bed, tucking him in. She noticed something in his hand - she extracted a filthy, blood-crusted eyepatch. Shining had said Cain wore one.

She thought about leaving it on the bedside table. He wouldn’t of held onto it if it weren’t important to him...

But it wasn’t right to leave him to wake up to such a crushing memory. To let him wake up to tragedy and sorrow.

He deserved at least one day without suffering, right? One morning? A moment of peace?

So she took the eyepatch, cleansed his hand, and closed the door quietly to let Isaac rest.

Elsewhere, a lone stallion of ebon fur trudged through the glaciers of the north, a red cloak adorning him. A child, shivering in rags, sat uncomfortably on his back.

“Where are we going?” the boy asked, holding his shoulders in a vain effort to ward off the frigid temperatures. Precariously tipping, he pulled on the stallion’s reddish-black mane to stay upright.

“I have told you,” he replied, through gritted sharp teeth. “we return to my home.”

The child brushed snow from his ginger hair. “But where is it?”

The stallion stopped, having crested another hill. “There.”

The child looked down, and saw what may have been the most beautiful thing he’d ever known; a sprawling city of shining light, purple, blue and pink sparkling dimly in the snow-choked light of moon. He slipped off the stallion, shakily standing up to move closer. “It’s so… so pretty! It seems so beautiful...! You live there?”

The stallion nodded, saying grimly, “I did, and shall again. We return there to reclaim my throne from the usurper that had stolen it from me.”

The child looked up at him. His green-rimmed eyes smoldered with anger… but softened, turning to him. “You have done well to awaken me, Lazarus. I will give you the world you deserve. The life you deserve.”

Lazarus beamed at him. “A-and we can save Isaac, too?”

“If he can be saved from their tyranny, it shall be so.”

Lazarus embraced the denied sovereign. His faint tears of gratitude froze to the pony’s fur. He could feel the boy’s body shaking in the blizzard. He unclasped his cape, and tossed it around the child’s body. He hugged tighter. Uneasily, he returned the hug.

All he deserves, thought King Sombra. And all they deserve as well.

Author's Notes:

(For those using the soundtracking feature, allow the wind to continue over the next chapter.)
(SORRY I TOOK SO LONG I WAS AT THE DOCTOR'S OFFICE AND I LOST MY PHONE AND GAAAAH)

You didn't honestly think Isaac would get much of a break for his psychological trauma, did you? We all know you need a higher luck stat than that.~

I finally got it! Now all I got left is Keeper (Finished Greed, Cathedral and Heart), 'Speed!', 'Brains', 'Onan's Streak', and 'Guardian!'
... I can already see my February Break being eaten away by just the first thing on that list.
I'm gonna add the soundtrack to these past 2-3 chapters soon, sorry I keep taking so long with that!

I cannot believe there's almost 200 likes on this.
You people... I've actually run out of nice things to call you, I need to go think of more!

Thank you TrueGentleman, HydraLightning, and ShamelessOC for editing and proofreading for me!

Special thanks to awesomesauce4 for giving me the motive to write, rewrite, and start this story! Check their Isaac story too, it's great! |The Unbinding|

Omissions

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Isaac didn’t wake up for a long time.

He was tormented by nightmares of Cain’s death, over and over. The final moments. The shattered eye. His burning. Isaac felt every moment as if it were happening the first time. He always thought to himself, I can save him. I CAN SAVE HIM. before watching the elder child be killed.

Sometimes he saw ponies trying to help him, and then he watched them get killed for trying. My fault.

Others, he’d watch them laugh. Shout at him. Throw rocks.

It felt endless. It felt horrible.

It felt… like he deserved it.

The final recollection was the worst. Shining Armor was pulling him out of the chasm while Cain was high in the air. The splash of blood from the impact was exaggerated, and extended far out over the city.

Then Cain frantically shouted something to Isaac. “No, wait! Isaac!”

After he’d been killed. Isaac could not respond.

Cain tried to say more, but his voice was muted by the flow of blood. All that came out was a flood of the crimson fluid. The tendril tore him in half, and Isaac jolted awake.

He was facing the window when he opened his eyes. He quickly turned away from it, noting the high position the sun had attained in his sleep. He was in his room. Isaac didn’t remember going back there.

He rubbed his eyes as they adjusted to the light. The child immediately noticed something was missing. Something very important.

Maybe it… maybe it didn’t… He hoped vainly for a moment. Then he remembered the vivid imagery he’d just experienced.

He threw off the blanket, jumping to the floor and searching desperately for the eyepatch. He tossed the blanket to the floor, then the pillows. The nightstand was empty. The box, dresser and desk showed no sign of it.

He began to hyperventilate, his heart pounding more from panic than exertion. Oh no oh no oh no Cain I’m so sorry-

The door opened. Isaac froze, the blanket in his hands again. Cadence stood in the doorway, a rather confused look on her face.

“Isaac? Are you alright?” Cadence asked.

He said nothing; his throat needed a moment to swallow the oncoming torrent of panicked tears. I am not alright. Not even close.

“Uhm…” He stuttered. “I… uhm…”

She entered, closing the door. “What’s wrong?”

“I… I can’t find something…” he told her.

The princess gave a small sigh. She knelt down to his eye level. Not that he could meet hers.

“What are you looking for?”

He saw it before she’d even finished her sentence. She was holding it beneath her wing, but one of the strings was dangling beneath it.

You know exactly what, don’t you? Isaac thought angrily. He pointed at the eyepatch, refraining from scowling. “Y-you have it.”

She glanced at the eyepatch, then back to him. “I do.” She maintained a inquirous look, as if he’d not answered.

She’s intentionally frustrating me, he thought. “I’d like it back.”

She held it out on an open wing, and Isaac carefully picked it up. There was no more blood on it, it was clean. Even less to remember him by.

“Isaac, you remember what happened yesterday, right?”

He was silent, but he nodded, still entranced by the patch. As if I could ever forget.

She almost lay on the floor, so she could see his face. “Do you want to talk about it?” she asked him softly.

Talk about it…? He considered. Why would he? Relive such painful memories in his waking hours... for what? There was nothing more to be said. Cain was dead and it was his fault. All those children, those families, their troubles were his doing. His problem. Didn’t she already see that?

And talking about it wouldn’t change it.

...Right?

But his question would remain unanswered.

A loud, frantic knock at the door interrupted them. Cadence made to answer, but it was thrown open by Shining Armor. His chest heaved, but he didn’t show his exertion in his voice. “Cadence, the northern gate, there’s somepony there-”

“Shining,” she stopped him. “If it’s a guard problem or-”

He shook his head, a grim scowl crossing over his face. “He says he’s King Sombra.”

Isaac recalled what Shining had told him about the king. He’d enslaved the crystal ponies, and forced them to work in the mines to extract crystals. He’d caused so much suffering and pain… But wasn’t that a thousand years ago?

The stallion leaned in close, conversing with Cadence just quietly enough that Isaac couldn’t hear. Cadence, after a moment of confusion, soon set her own face to that of somber determination. “We need to go down there.”

She turned to Isaac, her expression softening momentarily. “Isaac, I’m sorry, but we need to leave. You can ask the guard outside if you need anything, alright?”

He nodded. What were they talking about? Is it… is it something I did?

She knelt down to him. She moved as if to put a hoof on his shoulder, then thought better of it. “Promise you’ll be okay here?”

He nodded again.

The Princess and Captain left him in the room. Alone again.

… They aren’t telling me something. I know it.

King Sombra was rather annoyed at the moment.

First he’d been blasted at with magic, which was annoying to deal with, even as a warning shot. Then he was told to leave or be killed. Politely, he responded by telling them he did not want to invade, conquer, or otherwise attack the kingdom.

Of course, they did not believe him. But they did stop trying to murder him.

So now he waited for their leaders to come meet with him. Occasionally, he would glance back to the hill he had told Lazarus to wait at. After all, it would not do for the child to be involved in this… political confrontation, so directly.

They would assume I had taken him prisoner, he mused, Or that I was controlling him. I wish I could alleviate those doubts from their minds.

He spotted them atop the gate. The pink one had already charged a spell. It was obviously for intimidation; he could tell that she didn’t have the heart for it.

“King Sombra,” She spoke, her voice amplified for the same effect. “Leave. The empire is not yours, and it never will be.”

She is like a scared child, he noted, bemused. Bluffing her way through a confrontation in hopes her enemies back down. And to think she would fear me now, so small from her high position.

He said to her, “I wish only to speak with you. By your own rules and laws, you would grant me this request, or prove your hypocrisy to your subjects.”

She glared at him. He stared back. After a moment, she nodded to the guards flanking her, and glided down to him.

He saw her swallow her nerves. He suppressed a chuckle. It’s quite sad, but amusing, he thought, to see a leader so weak try to act so strong.

“Very well.” Cadence affirmed. “Why are you here?”

“It is simple,” he said with the confidence granted only by absolute certainty. “I am here to atone for my failures as king.”

Author's Notes:

(A note for those using the soundtracking - On the subsequent chapter, set the listed music to .5 speed.)
Words cannot express my awe and happiness at the amount of attention this story has received. Therefore, images will have to suffice.

I recently lost my phone to the 3~4 feet of snow that fell around my area, so I'm not really able to upload any drawings related to the story right now. But once I can, I will!

Oh, and I completed all the challenges over the snowdays it caused, so now I just have Keeper left.
Literally every run I've made any success with dies on Lamb/Blue Baby. I always get killed by sheer misfortune. Cursed Eye warps. Homing Tears. Poor luck with the Wooden Nickle. General bullsh*t rooms like double Adversary or double Cage.

Ain't fair.

I've been considering writing something on the side based off the game 'OFF', from back in 2009. If people show interest, I might do it as a side project.

Thank you TrueGentleman, HydraLightning, and ShamelessOC for editing and proofreading for me!

Special thanks to awesomesauce4 for giving me the motive to write, rewrite, and start this story! Check their Isaac story too, it's great! |The Unbinding|

Repentance

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*Lazarus shivered in silence, waiting to be called out. Though the robes he’d been given were helped immensely to deal with the bitter chill, it was far from warm. To distract himself, he lay out some excess rags on the snow, making a stick-figure, and a stick-pony. Me and Sombra.

He laid out another figure, far way from the two previous. In his mind’s eye, that was Isaac. Between them, he used a finger to draw an angry face, with horns.

He contemplated his purpose here. His mission. To help the king. To save Isaac. To save everyone.

Because I can do it. I know it, I’m here for a reason.

I saved him for a reason, and he’s helping me for it.

He thought back to his meeting with the king he called friend. How tense it had been. How frightening.

How sure he was that he’d die again.

Destiny kept me alive; that’s why I’m here. The basement was a challenge, and so is this. Lazarus repeated to himself, trudging endlessly in the biting, icy wind. I can do it; I know I can.

I can find Isaac.

As soon as he woke up in the softness of the snow, he knew he was free of the basement. And, by extension, the same place as Isaac. So he began wandering the glacier, colder than he’d ever felt- or at least, remembered feeling- calling for Isaac. Praying he would find him.

The gentle snowfall devolved into a storm, and then into an outright blizzard. As he was now, he could not see more than a few feet in front of him, and was unable to discern more than… more snow.

It wasn’t long before his resolve outlasted his flesh. But he continued, numb, frozen to the core. It was so very cold. But he pressed on. For Isaac.

Then he came upon something quite peculiar.

Barely visible through the dense precipitation was a single, enormous spire of crystal. And chained to it, in a crucified position, was a unicorn. Ebony fur, hung heavy with icicles and snow. His hooves were impaled into the facet of the spire with yet more crystals.

Lazarus, in his haze of cold, still found the clarity of mind to offer a prayer for the corpse. He began to trudge past it, waist deep in the snow.

It stirred.

In a burst of vitality granted by his concern, he stumbled back to the spire as quickly as he could. The wind blew hard on the corpse, the unfrozen portions of it’s fur whipping wildly in the gale.

Lazarus scowled up at it. No. I’m sure I saw something. I’m… I’m sure.

He approached it, and touched a hind hoof, the only he could reach.

It’s still warm.

The child tried to pry the body off of the crystals from the bottom. It didn’t budge. He hopped up, and after a few tries, managed to grab hold of the legs. He pulled with his whole weight, braced against the crystal.

Please. I can help him. Lazarus promised to no one in particular. He’s still there. He doesn’t need to suffer anymore.

The body came free with a loud shattering of ice and stone. Both the child and the unicorn fell into the soft snow below. The child struggled, dragging himself up out of the snow, and from under the unicorn. Catching his breath, he turned the unicorn to his back, putting a hand on where he guessed the heart was.

He couldn’t feel anything. Just warmth.

Out of desperation, the child wrapped his arms around the apparent cadaver, clutching it tightly in a futile hug. The warmth, while appreciated in the biting, intense cold, only further troubled him. What’s wrong? Why won’t he wake up?

The child felt tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. He knew there was something there, he wouldn’t be warm for no reason. He had to have come across it for a reason! There had to be something he could do!

It convulsed slightly.

Lazarus, startled, tried to pull away, and found himself crushed up against the pillar himself. The unicorn, already returned to an aggressive stance, was pressing him firmly against it with a blaze of grey magic.

He looked at the face, which momentarily reflected his own panic. It shifted almost automatically into scowl, green eyes glaring at him unforgivingly. “Who are you?”

The child, cringing fearfully, replied in a squeaky tone, “Lazarus.”

Have mercy, he begged silently. Don’t hurt me, please…

There was a moment of tension. Lazarus thought the pressure increased, if but for an instant, then it slowly faded, until he fell to the snow again, shivering in cold and fear. He dared not look up, partially out of his wariness of another attack, and partially due to the snow melting on his face.

After a moment, the unicorn spoke. “Why have you freed me? Who sent you?” Lazarus could hear an incredibly faint tremble in his low voice.

The child swallowed. “I- I just found you here… I wanted to help…”

It was silent. The unicorn, eventually, said softly, “Then you do not know who I am? Why I am here?”

Lazarus nodded frantically.

With a hint of surprise, the stallion ventured further, “You acted purely out of altruistic intention?”

A less panicked nod was his reply. He looked up, slowly.

The unicorn faced the horizon. The snow had somehow all but entirely stopped in the brief moments of their confrontation. At the edge, he could faintly see some form of glowing tower. The unicorn, not turning to him, asked him quietly, “Do you still wish to help me?”

Lazarus, rising to his knees, caught a look at the stallion’s face from the side. A small stream of tears ran down. He seemed to smile, grimace, and cringe at the sight all at once. Ruminations and memories flooding behind the stony shield of his eyes.

It was the face of worries finally alleviated, to be replaced with trials yet determined. Relief in the moment, when he knew more pain would follow.

The face of someone who had committed atrocities beyond comprehension.

The face of someone who never deserved the pressure to commit them.

The face of remorse. The face of repentance.

The face of a sinner who had cause to sin.

He looks like… Lazarus realized. Like… Isaac. Like me.

He scrambled to his feet, rags flowing breezily in the wind. Tears drying, he affirmed with determination, “I will.”

The wind blew hard. The horned face was erased, and the rags blew quickly over the hill. Out of his hiding place, in the direction of…

of… Oh no.

Author's Notes:

(Allow this chapter's soundtracking to cross into the next, until the next song comes on. Restore video speed to normal.)
Right. So. This might be the last chapter you'll see for a while, but that's because I have a lot of things in my life I need to do - one of which being writing contests - and I'm working on a couple other story ideas too.

THIS STORY IS NOT ABANDONED. Not in any sense. I am certain I will be returning to it.

I'd like to thank all of you for sticking with me this far! You people are beyond amazing!

Also, I completed Isaac 1001%. Pretty good, eh?

Thank you TrueGentleman, HydraLightning, and ShamelessOC for editing and proofreading for me!

Special thanks to awesomesauce4 for giving me the motive to write, rewrite, and start this story! Check their Isaac story too, it's great! |The Unbinding|

Metanoia

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Naturally, Cadence’s response was that of confusion. “‘Atone for your failures as king?’ You mean… you’re turning yourself in?”

“No, no, dear Princess; you misinterpret me,” He shook his head. “I seek to correct my errors. Repay my people for my atrocities of necessity.”

She gave him a skeptical look. “Care to clarify?”

Returning the expression, he replied, “That depends on two things.”

She said nothing. He shook his head in mock defeat. “They are not beyond requests you would grant any other. I ask only to be allowed to elaborate in full…”

He glanced to the hill, seeing Lazarus peering over. The child quickly dove beneath the horizon. “... and assurance of safety afterwards, even if I may not remain here.”

Cadence considered this, momentarily. She asked him, “And if we do not?”

He smirked. “You’d stand to lose whatever I am here for, for the slim chance at capturing or killing me. At which point, I’d either be unwilling or unable to relay to you that information. Or, you would force me to leave, purpose unfulfilled,” the smile fell from his face. “with the child you would spurn with me in doing so.”

He was starting to get annoyed by her near-constant confusion, but if he were honest, it was more so his own doing. She wouldn’t risk a child… though the lack of validation as to whether they existed may counteract that. Hmm.

Briefly, a dark shadow of worry crossed over her face. Too quickly for the average pony to notice. But of course, he was not one. She nodded hesitantly. “Very well. But you have to answer any and all of our questions.”

“I would expect no less.” Sombra nodded, expression grave. He gestured for her to begin.

She locked eyes with him, her own burning with courage. But he could still see the fear. “How have you returned?” Cadence inquired.

Lies now would only reinforce their distrust, he contemplated. He could lie, but that would leave Lazarus alone, and his integrity further doubted. And he may as well ensure both of their safety with his reveal.

Or rather, that was his plan.

A sliver of fabric, stained with the dried maroon of blood fluttered over on a breeze. Before Sombra could even consider an explanation, the child tumbled down the snowdrift as the bandage slowly drifted to the ground between them. Lazarus came to a stop just in front of it, knotted and wrapped in the too-big cloak he was wearing.

She looked down at the child as he scrambled to untangle himself from Sombra’s robes, some combination of mortification, deep worry, and complete and utter confusion infecting her expression. “Is… this is the child you were talking about?”

Hesitantly, the king nodded. Lazarus, finally freeing himself from the snow-coated prison, froze like a cornered animal under Cadence’s stare.

“I… uh…” he stammered, locking terrified eyes with her.

She reached out a hoof, and he took a step away. She seemed saddened by this, Sombra noted. Lazarus slowly backed toward Sombra, moving behind him. The child never looked away, peeking out from behind the king.

Before Cadence could begin her impending verbal assault, Sombra interrupted, “This is Lazarus. He revived me from my state of, shall we say,” he paused, evening his tone. “Incapacitation.”

She gave the pair a scrutinizing look. Sombra gazed back impassively, and Lazarus ducked out of site. “What have you done to him?” She asked in a deadpan.

“I have done nothing. He is my companion of his own volition.”

“And why should I believe that?”

Almost reluctantly, Sombra replied, “Ask him yourself.”

Lazarus froze behind his protector, swallowing the lump in his throat. The stallion stepped aside, leaving him in full view of the Princess. Shivering under the king’s robe, and her gaze. She drew near, but Lazarus did not move, for fear of falling over and becoming as her prey.

“Lazarus, did he make you come with him?”

He shook his head rapidly. Desperately hoping that was the end of the questions.

“Are… are you certain?”

He nodded. She drew very close - almost an arm’s reach - and inquired at almost a whisper, “Are you lying? Does he have some kind of leverage?”

He shook his head again. He could feel his heart trying to escape his chest, much as he wished to be free of her staring eyes.

So full of unease and apprehension.

Cadence took a step, concern splaying across her face like a crack on glass. “Are you alright?”

He yelped, falling to the snow, squeezing his eyes shut, arms crossed over his face, locking her out. “Stay away!” He could feel the tears rolling down his face. “J-just go away!”

Sombra stepped between them again, scowling at the princess. “Maintain your distance. Can you not see you distress him?”

Cadence looked away, the guilt of her actions as obvious as her fault. “I… I’m sorry, Lazarus. I did not mean to…” She trailed off.

Sombra seized the opportunity. “Listen. The child is cold. This is no place for such discussions. Should we not move this interrogation to a place better suited?”

Almost as if snapping from a daze, she replied, “O-of course. We should at least enter the gates.”

So many mistakes. She is lucky I am not my curse. It would be a sad day indeed, where her heart endangers so many others. Sombra considered as he pulled the sniffling human up onto his back. I hope that day may never befall them again.

*Isaac stared at the eyepatch. He momentarily amused himself with the irony of the thought - looking at a covering for the blind.

… I am distracting myself. I should be doing something. But he knew not what he could do. What he ‘should’ do.

Cadence and Shining were quite obviously hiding something from him. But did he really want to know? Given what had just happened, he would not be surprised if they returned with pitchforks and torches. If anyone returned.

Maybe they would just leave him here, locking him away from the purity of the world. Cover the wound that it may not be seen. Amputate the infection. The world has become corrupted by me.

It wasn’t the world that made him bad, it was the other way around, here. So many things were backwards here.

“Hehe,” he laughed softly. Tears collected at the rims of his eyes, but he continued laughing. Oh, what a cruel twist his life had taken. Victim turned villain. An Infectious innocent.

He was laughing openly now, tears dripping unbidden down his face. He wasn’t sure why, but this was hilarious to him. It’s my fault, and it’s not my fault it’s my fault. But is it my fault it’s not my fault it’s my fault?

He trailed off. He set the eyepatch on the bedside table. He didn’t need to look at it anymore. All he needed to denote his failure was the memories. And my memories can outlive me.

Isaac walked over to the desk, pleased to see papers and pencils stacked neatly on it. He pulled one of each down, sat on the floor, and began to draw. Each stroke of the pencil made it clearer and clearer - Isaac had drawn Cain, offering him the Candle. Simplistic, crude, the drawing of a child, yes, but it was clear to him why he had made it.

His friend’s final act of kindness to him would be remembered, even if no one else would remember him. He deserves it more than me.

The child looked about for somewhere to hang his proud art. No nails stuck from the walls. He had no pins, no tape. So he bent back the sides, making a nice support, placing it on the dresser.

For you, Cain. He thought wistfully. You deserve it.

He looked at the picture for some time. He wasn’t sure why, but it made him feel better, somehow. Isaac wasn’t happy, but he felt good, for a while.

And it was okay.

Rectification

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*The princess, the deposed ruler, and his companion sat uneasily in the guard’s barracks just within the gate of the Empire. Lazarus sat quietly before the fireplace, still wrapped in Sombra’s cape, finally finding some modicum of success in warming himself. The two of them sat across from eachother, Cadence apparently trying to stare him into submission as he contemplated her silently.

“So where shall I begin? My reason for being here, Lazarus’s, or perhaps there is something you wish to say?” Sombra suggested.

Cadence, gaze unwavering, replied, “I want to know why you are here.”

The king nodded. “Very well, I suppose it ties well enough into the other questions to answer them. I presume you are familiar with the Centaur, Tirek?”

Cadence finally blinked, confused. “Well… yes, but I hardly see why that’s-”

“Are you aware of the year he began his incursion into Equestrian lands?” She shook her head.

Mildly annoyed, the king sighed. “I had guessed as much. He invaded during my reign. His kind consumes magic in order to gain power, and the Crystal heart emits a great deal even in a placid state. You and I can both feel it, even from the edge of the empire. As far as the badlands to the far south.”

Sombra rose from his chair, and moved to a window. He stared, wistful, outside. “My people, the source of its power, felt love. Felt peaceful. And that would soon bring an end to them, had I… had I not made my pact.”

Cadence seemed doubtful of him, and of her own skepticism. “Your pact? You mean your dark magic?”

Sombra snorted, and gave a short laugh. “Such an impotent term. This was far from your average hidden-in-the-back-of-a-library tome, or some simplistic ritual a foal could perform. This was a form of ancient, volatile magic, from long before even the sisters existed.”

“It was a sacrifice to a powerful deity, nearly forgotten by those who worshiped him. My blood, my body, were given as tribute to him, so that he could give me the power to hide my people, and protect them when the time came.” He turned back to her, casting a cursory glance at Lazarus to ensure he was not too close to the fire. “He gave me the power of fear and nightmares. Illusions and deception. Belial and suffering. It cut the heart’s power off, hiding us from Tirek. I had the ponies excavate Crystals, for lack of the body I had sacrificed, I required a conduit for my power. But it came with a price far worse.”

“I watched my subjects suffer, by my own hoof. It was a necessary pain, yes, but one I wish I never had cause to inflict. And as they lost more of themselves to their nightmares and labor, I did as well. For every day they continued, I lost a part of me, my empathy, my guilt, locked away in my own corpse. Soon the one who ruled them was merely a shadow, a shade, barely a thought, nearly beyond control.”

Cadence seemed surprised by this, but said nothing as he continued.

“And then came the day I felt the border of my Empire be crossed. Even I felt my shade’s terror, it’s only instinct, in coincidence with my own, was to not let the invader come any closer. I’m not entirely certain of my driving motivation - to protect, yes, but was it for my people? Myself? My wealth? My shame?” He looked toward the floor. “I may never know. All I am certain of is that I felt it needed to call upon the deity again, and hide us away forever at the cost of the slightest impulse of control I had left.”

“I had nothing but the crippling guilt as I lay dead on the shrine of my sins. For centuries. Even as I could only watch my own shadow attack the empire yet again, wanting to take back the control it once had… and, well, you know the rest.”

The princess was silent. Sombra was not directly to blame for the atrocities of his reign, but had still set in motion their suffering. His intent was good, but the actions it required were not. It reminded her, depressingly, of her attempts with Isaac.

The king, smirking in spite of his own misery, looked toward Lazarus, who was listening intently. “I am fortunate for the child’s arrival, else I may never have returned to try and…”

He was quiet, momentarily. “... Apologize. To try and compensate for my errors and mistakes, by ensuring their effects do not continue. I will eradicate the results of all that I have done in my misguided efforts. Every book, every spell, every enchantment, and every nightmare… I am going to remove them all. Destroy them. I choose to repent for my sins, however well meaning they were, rather than sulk and beg for forgiveness. And once I have?”

He looked Cadence in the eyes. She could see the utter, harrowing guilt in his, despite the grave scowl he wore. He could see the turmoil of conflicting sentiments in hers, doubt and empathy, and a sincere desire to want to find reason to disbelieve him.

“I will offer myself for the judgement I have awaited so long.”

Isaac felt restless. Which was unusual, for him, at least. Something in him had been switched on, and he wanted to do something. But what?

He looked about the room. He made his bed. He stacked the papers and pencils neatly. He found and put on his clothes, slightly less stiff than yesterday. But now what? He was too energized to draw. And there wasn’t a great deal else to do in his room. He didn’t have chores, though now he rather wished he did. What else was there to do?

He wandered over to the door, looking up at it contemplatively. Briefly, his mind considered what he did before he came here. When he was happy, and his mother was too. He had toys and games, and things to do - here, he did not. I wonder if it would… if it would be too much to ask the guard…?

No. He could not occupy himself with things he did not deserve. At least, he felt he should not. Not after yesterday. It would be… wrong.

Maybe he could learn, instead? He was intended to be in school as of yesterday. But he could hardly ask the guard to help with that - he did not even know what he was supposed to be learning! - so that brought him back to the question.

What should he do now?

Knock knock.

Startled, he staggered back. He swallowed. “C-come in…?”

The door opened partially, a vaguely familiar face poking around the side. Purple and pink. A horn and wings. Twilight-something. She was there when he woke up… the second time, he thought?

“Hello, Isaac.” She said, with a patient smile, the door opening the rest of the way. “Do you remember me?”

The boy gave a single, tense nod, preoccupied by the rather astounding number of books that the purple alicorn had brought with her, already soaring across the room to be stacked neatly against the wall. Dozing lazily on her back was the dragon from before- Spike, he recalled.

“Cadence and Shining asked for me to come here today to get you started on some lessons,” She explained, already separating a number of books from the piles. “The guards said they’d left on some important business, but they’d be back soon.”

Isaac nodded again uncomfortably. He wasn’t expecting this - why had they felt he need not know? He would have rather like to know his singular sanctuary would be so abruptly invaded…

She lay out six books in front of him, and levitated Spike over onto the bed, still sleeping. Some hero. Isaac thought. He almost snickered, but then he felt guilty for thinking such a thing.

“So, Isaac,” Twilight asked, now sitting on the floor. She was still just barely over his head level, but at least he was not craning his neck. “Which of these subjects would you like to start with?”

He looked down at the books. He couldn’t read any of their titles, they were written in symbols he was unfamiliar with. “Uhm…” he began awkwardly, shifting his weight anxiously from side-to-side. Am I expected to know their language already? I don’t even know if this is English…

The alicorn looked down at the books, back up at him, and back to the books. She slapped her head with a wing and a slight groan. “Oh! My mistake! I should’ve guessed they’d be different languages from yours. Maybe that’s something to start with, then?”

Isaac nodded. That would be a much better plan than meandering through text he couldn’t read.

She asked him to try and explain to her what he knew of writing and reading. She brought out the stack of papers from their first meeting, as well as notes relating to their verbal translation he’d provided at the time.

Isaac resisted a snicker. The number of mistakes was actually pretty silly - she’d made copies and drawn lines to connect the words to different parts of the picture. “These aren’t right. This one is my name,” he pointed, “And this one is ‘Butcher’s’, why did you draw a line to this?” he pointed to ‘the voice from above.’

Twilight, after scribbling down the corrections, replied, “Process of elimination. I had to use guesswork on most of this. So each word has a specific meaning, not each letter?”

Isaac nodded. She sighed, seeming somewhat relieved. “Oh good, that, at least, is the same as Equestrian.”

From there, they went back and forth, discerning letter sounds and word meanings, conjunctions and tenses. It went surprisingly fast, the two languages were more similar than they appeared at first glance - it was essentially a change of font, aside from the new symbols for digraphs and such things. He learned to spell his name in Equestrian - he taught Twilight how to do hers in his language, too. Certainly, he would be no record-breaking speed-reader, but he caught on quickly and took to it as a fish to water.

Things continued like this for some time.

And, for a while, Isaac was quite enjoying himself. He wouldn’t have minded spending all day doing it.

Unfortunately, fate disagreed.

Author's Notes:

Ah, so glad to come back to this. Sometime soon I'll get back to 'soundtracking' these chapters, too.

This has always been my own thoughts regarding Sombra's reasoning, if not his method. It's entirely possible for him, canonically, have existed at the same time as Tirek, to my knowledge. And If Tirek seeks magic, then the obvious answer would be to hide the Crystal heart, a very powerful source of magic, by removing it's fuel.

I'm absolutely dumbstruck by the level of attention this story got even between updates! I just checked the 'users tracking this' number - 365! One for every day of the year! That's insanity!
You people are... gah, I keep finding myself at a loss of words, trying to convey my sincere appreciation!

The only person to edit/review this one was Hydra Lightning, so hooray for their existence!

Contradistinction

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Isaac’s door was thrown open with such force that the child yelped in surprise, raising a book defensively. Spike, startled awake, tumbled backwards from the bed to the floor.

Before Isaac could lower the book, he felt himself tackled by something cold and wet. He struggled with no small amount of noise to no avail. He nearly screamed outright, but stopped when he heard a familiar voice. “I found you!”

Isaac froze, un-squeezing his eyes. “... L-Lazarus?”

He saw his friend, gripping him tightly, coated and soaked in partially-melted snow, a red-and-white cape dripping from his back. A few inches shorter and with a head of ginger hair, the younger of the two hugged Isaac tightly. “Hah, you seem surprised.”

Dumbfounded, Isaac awkwardly put his hand on Lazarus’s head. “I… y-yeah, I am. What are you doing-?”

Lazarus was pulled away, and a large and intimidating black stallion put his face very close to Isaac. “Hold still.”

Heart racing, Isaac complied, terrified of what disobedience would merit. The unicorn’s horn shone grey, and his green eyes darted across the child’s face. Isaac could hear arguing behind the stallion’s intimidating glare, but could hardly register it given his near-hysterical state and complete loss of context. Eventually, the stallion withdrew. Lazarus went back to Isaac, sitting next to him, worried.

“He’s clear,” The stallion said turning to Cadence, who’d arrived during the interim. “He doesn’t seem to have any trace of the curse, thankfully.”

“What are you doing here?” cried out the young dragon, striking a defensive stance before Twilight. “Are you guys crazy? Who let king Sombra-?”

Twilight jerked back in surprise, and motioned for Spike to stand down. “Spike, weren’t you listening? He’s not here to fight.”

The dragon didn’t move. “He enslaved the whole empire-”

“And he’s here to make up for it!” Lazarus defended. “He wants to make amends, fix his mistakes!”

Spike looked over at the children, rubbing his eyes. “Since when were there two of you…? A-anyway, who says he’s not lying? Why believe him?” He demanded, resolve waning.

Cadence stepped forward. “Sombra has, as I’ve noted, not a single protective spell cast, has done no harm in spite of aggression from both the guard and myself, and has quite adequately explained himself, as you’d known if you’d been listening the past five minutes.” She said rather coldly.

Spike was silenced, eyes wide with incredulity, jaw slack. Slowly, he closed it, not able to meet her gaze. “Oh… I… okay, I guess.” He moved back over to the bed, contemplating Sombra, as he slumped against the footboard dejectedly.

Isaac considered this. If Spike was a hero for saving the empire from Sombra, what would it mean to have the villain… de-villainized? Briefly, he caught site of Cadence’s gaze softening, but then returning to the ‘determined leader’ eyes he was beginning to find far less intimidating. It’s not even her. It’s who the others need.

… Or who she thinks they need?

Cadence looked over at Twilight as Sombra waited, almost impatiently, by the door. “Twilight, Sombra and I have to keep going, there’s a lot of spells he needs to disable and deal with. Seeing as he needs to save his magic for that, I have to make sure he doesn’t cause a panic by being seen here with some illusions. Shining will be here soon, but you need to look after Lazarus here, okay?”

Twilight nodded, then offered a small chuckle. “Guess I’m the foalsitter now, huh?” Cadence snorted a short laugh, and left, accompanied by a the grey stallion.

Isaac stood up uneasily from the floor, still absorbing this whirlwind. Lazarus is here, that was a dead king who wants to make up for being bad, Spike’s pride is crippled, and I’m…

I’m…

Still here. Useless. I can’t even help someone I might understand, what could I ever say to-?

“Isaac?” Lazarus asked. The snow had fully melted, slicking his hair to his head. “Are you okay?”

He smiled -though it may have come off as a grimace- for his friend’s sake. “Y-yeah… are you? You look… cold?”

Lazarus nodded with surprising vigor. Isaac lifted off his starchy shirt, offering it to the child. Twilight was already taking the perturbed sheets of the bed and doing the same. Lazarus opted for the sheets, and Isaac, embarrassed, pulled the shirt back on.

Twilight regarded the two of them with curious eyes. Isaac suddenly felt as if he’d lost the relative lack of tension he’d experienced mere minutes ago. The distraction of a subject other than him was gone, and with it, his unease returned. He felt as if he’d done something horribly wrong, something was expected of him that he had failed to realize.

He looked away, mumbling an inaudible and nonspecific apology.

A few moments later, the alicorn broke the tense silence. “So, Lazarus,” she asked trepidatiously. “Would you mind me asking you a few questions?”

The younger child shook his head. “No, feel free.”

Twilight perked up. Isaac saw her magic take hold of the notepad she’d brought, flipping to a new page. “Can you tell me how you got here? Where you found Sombra? I need you to tell me specifically how you woke him up, what happened…”

Isaac stopped tracking their conversation. He was preoccupied by the expression on the dragon’s face. Brows furrowed, hands crossed over his upraised knees. Mouth covered by his forearms. He looks so… frustrated. Unsure. Nothing like those statues.

… A bit like me.

He checked back at the other two occupants of the room. Lazarus was explaining himself with wild gestures, seeming to enjoy the conversation. Twilight looked back and forth between the young child and her notes, interjecting with questions here and there.

They don’t need me. Isaac mused. But maybe he…?

The child scooted over along the floor, away from Lazarus and Twilight, who seemed not to notice. Isaac stopped next to Spike, unsure whether or not he should be the one to start the conversation.

“Isaac, right?” Spike spoke suddenly, looking over at the child. The assistant’s voice was muffled by his arms, but discernable. Isaac nodded in affirmation.

“Uhm,” Isaac began awkwardly. “You’re Spike.”

“Yep.” The dragon stared curiously at him.

“You… you were the one who… the heart thing? You have statues?” The child stumbled over his words, looking down at the floor. Why can’t they just come out the way they do in my head?

Spike scoffed. “Yeah, though at this rate they’ll go down overnight.”

“I-I’m sure that’s not true,” Isaac blustered. “You still- uhm, you’re still a hero for being good. You did it because it was right. Not… fame.” I sound so stupid why am I still talking this was a horrible idea-

“Well, yeah,” Spike replied, his tone prepared for a counterargument. “But this is gonna undo all that, him being a good guy. It was nice to be a hero, you know? Everypony likes you, looks up to you. Does stuff for you.”

“Isn’t that… selfish?” Isaac asked. Suddenly realizing the implicit insult, he rushed out more, “I- I mean it’s not selfish to be a rolemodel and I’m not saying you aren’t one or, uhm, that... you’re selfish... or… uhm. ” He trailed off.

Why must I destroy any and all chances to redeem myself? Isaac despaired, mortified by his own words.

“... No, I think I get it. You’re not wrong,” Spike replied shamefully. “I kinda let it go to my head. I didn’t deserve all that.”

Hastily, Isaac disagreed. “Y-you did, though! You did something really great for a lot of people!”

Spike was looking down at the floor, his tone uncharacteristically low and somber as he asked, “Did I though? If Sombra’s right, doesn’t that mean I just… banished somepony who didn’t do anything wrong?”

“No, you banished his mistakes.” Lazarus suddenly interjected. “He told us earlier that the one you defeated wasn’t him. It was his evil shadow.”

Isaac jumped slightly. Th-they heard all that? All that… flailing, aimless, stilted meandering I spouted...?

“What? What does that even mean?” The dragon asked skeptically.

Twilight took the opportunity to explain. “Spike, you remember the Tantabus, right? Think of it like that - A part of him that was separate. As I understand, the creation of a shade usually isn’t intended - the emotions of the caster can sometimes alter the spell, and leave the shade in control. Or separate the caster from his control of the spell.” She elaborated, drawing a simple diagram on the paper.

Two circles were drawn, overlapping, one bigger than the other. “The shade is usually the one commanded by the caster, controlled the same way we control ourselves and our emotions. If the negative emotions, the ones the shade is powered by, outweigh the positives, the spell gets distorted. It put the shade in control.” She filled the larger circle in, and drew a line severing the two. “Sombra got locked in his body, which was basically useless at that point, and the shade was it’s own creature, being as cruel as it wanted.”

“It had the same goal, it wanted to keep everyone hidden away.” Lazarus offered sheepishly. “It just… didn’t care how it did it, even if it hurt a lot of ponies.”

“So what you’re saying,” Spike clarified. “Is that I stopped an evil megashadow king that even King Sombra couldn’t control.”

“Well, that’s hardly a fair comparison seeing as-” The alicorn began.

Spike fistpumped the air with a small jump. “Hehah! I knew I did good, I knew it!”

Lazarus laughed at the display good-naturedly. Twilight chuckled, shaking her head as she looked back to her notes. Spike grinned, asked Lazarus if he’d like to hear the story, and proceeded after hearing affirmation from the child.

Isaac looked away from the proudly posing assistant, slipping away from the activity of the group, around the side of the bed.

… Oh. Isaac thought sullenly. G-good for him. He’s… he didn’t mess up. Like me. He gets to keep being the hero. The savior. The winner.

Isaac squeezed his little hands tight. He didn’t want to cry in front of them. There was no reason he should ruin the mood. His frustration shouldn’t be taken out on Spike, it wasn’t his fault. Isaac was fully to blame for his mistakes. Spike didn’t deserve to be labeled the source of Isaac’s shame. E-envy is a sin. I w-won’t let it take me.

The dragon got to be happy with himself, his choices. Even if Isaac wasn’t in regards to his own failures.

It wasn’t as if he’d hoped there’d be something to connect with. A chance at… a friend? Just… something they had in common, something they could…

No, no. Surely that would be too great a gift for the child who deserved it not. I raised my hopes. I never should have dared… it never could happen. I shouldn’t be so… so desirous. He’s better off without me.

He can be so much happier if I’m not in the way. Everyone can.

… W-Why can’t I ever be… the happy one?

A single red teardrop fell from his face, staining one of the displaced sheets crimson where it landed. N-no. I don’t deserve it. He does.

He deserves the pride he has.

Isaac clenched the bloodied sheet tightly, fueled with the frustration of this unjust imbalance. So desperate for an equalizer, when he knew in his heart it was as equal as it should be. He, a sinner, beneath him, a saint.

Good.

For.

Him.

Indignation

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Luna’s night was not going well, not by any sensible standard.

She’d just recently been informed of the attack on the Crystal Empire, learned Sombra’s return, reported innocence, and penance, and there was currently a warning put out to all of Canterlot to keep an eye on the foals. There’d been numerous unexplained disappearances of children, as well as several adults, and damn if she wasn’t going to get to the bottom of this. She had to do something. Anything to mitigate the encroaching idea of her irrelevance and uselessness.

She was currently soaring over her city, rather than engaging in the tedious - and frankly, fastidious - night court. She was keeping an eye out for any disturbance or incongruity, trying to discern the cause of her missing subjects.

In some small sense, she wanted to imagine this protective act as a form of apology, though she knew it was nothing to the child she had wronged. At the very least, she would be protecting innocent, as opposed to accusing them.

The notion of creating a statistic to monitor her moral compass's ups and downs crossed her mind. She realized she would probably not like the results, and scrapped the idea, violently shaking her head, trying to focus on her task.

Had she been doing so mere moments earlier, she may have seen and avoided what appeared to be a hole in the sky before her. As it were, Luna flew right into it, the sudden darkness startling her out of her flight pattern. She heard an echoing, almost childlike laugh, and suddenly found herself thrown against a rough wooden floor.

The princess bolted upright, utterly baffled. If her shell-shocked senses were telling her the truth she was right where she’d promised never to venture only days ago.

Luna was within the Basement she’d seen in Isaac’s dreams. Floating gently above a gap in the floor before her was a small, black-skinned demon with a single tooth, smiling with the gape-mouthed innocence of an infant. Eyes, appearing more as crimson pearls, perked with delight when she acknowledged the creature, as it bounced in the air before diving in it’s hole.

Before she could even consider looking after, it closed. And she was left there.

“What has just happened?!” She interrogated the stale air. Confused, alone, and more frustrated than many of her subjects become in their entire lives, Luna desperately called out in her Canterlot Voice, “Is anypony here?”

She heard a rapid succession of steps. Somepony heard her? Was it one of her subjects, heeding her call? A beast, rising to a challenge?

The princess turned to the source, on the other side of a door shrouded in darkness. She nearly let off a blast of energy when a figure ran in.

“You,” said a masculine voice, followed by a long groan. “For the love of…” He grunted with annoyance. “Why are you here?”

Luna recognized it. She recognized him, though she did not know his name. It was one of the children she’d met in Isaac’s dreams. The bandanna-bearer, coated in what appeared to be his own blood, a belt wrapped tightly around his body, with his eyes congealed with some form of white, resinous substance which was quite clearly not meant to be applied to the face.

Her immediate reaction was to flinch at both his appearance, his looks, and his tone.

The child grimaced. “Oh come on, you’ve seen worse.”

She shook her head, more so to clear her mind than to deny the fact. “M-my apologies. I am not aware as to why I am here, so much as I am as to what brought me here.”

The child slapped his face, dragging the palm down exasperatedly. “Little chubby demon? Inter-dimensional holes?”

The alicorn nodded, slightly surprised by the immediate answer.

The child muttered under his breath, “Nine in one run, what the hell…” He took a deep breath, and sighed. “Listen. Get. Out. I’m sick of babysitting all your stupid subjects.”

Luna, affronted, snapped back, “They are not stupid. It is not their fault your world is so jarringly harsh.”

He snickered, his eyes never closing. “You’re serious? You think they’re all just spooked?”

His brow folded into a scowl of disdain. “Those lemmings have been here for hours. They’re still to scared to leave the rooms I had to leave them in. Half of them are still sobbing, and I’m pretty sure the big one pissed himself. You still think they’re just spooked?”

The alicorn was silent.

He scoffed, and whispered harshly, “Useless. The smallest thing and they snap. I’m done, goddammit, done.”

The child turned, starting toward the door… but he paused. “... Hope you’re made of stronger stuff, lady. Because otherwise? They’re all gonna die.”

In a flash, he was pulled up to her, his face pressed against her muzzle. Luna’s eyes blazed furiously with starlight, as if trying to burn their way through the greasy reflection that his own returned.

“I will not let a single pony die. I will protect every last one of them. And you are going to help me get them all out SAFELY. Understood?”

The child feigned gagged. “Your breath is disgusting. Did something die in there? Was it your self esteem?”

Luna’s face lost all intensity. She grimaced, and dropping him bodily to the floor. “You do know the way out of here?”

The boy, further annoyed, replied sarcastically, “No, I just live here.”

She glared at him. He looked back at her impassively. “... Yes. I do.”

The Princess granted him a curt nod. “Take me to them.”

The child scowled at her, and gestured for her to follow him. As they walked, she could see dozens of places spattered with gore and viscera, much as her palace had looked after the invasion. Scenes of battle? She wondered. Is he truly so accomplished?

Looking him over, she noticed several things she had not seen before. Beneath large swathes of bloodied and bruised skin, scars criss-crossed over his shoulders. Wounds long healed, leaving only knotted flesh beneath. Fists clenched with such anger that blood crusted around them. He was obviously hurt, but he did not even seem to regard his own wounds.

Luna, hesitantly, asked him, “What is your name?” She found it hard to believe she had taken so long to consider it.

“My name,” His response came out low, almost unintelligible. She could almost taste the acidity his words dripped so venomously with. “is Samson.”

Author's Notes:

Its like oil and vinegar. Or maybe oil and a match. It's not just salt, it's an industrial sander against an open, freshly remade wound. That goes down to the bones. Those really fragile ones, you know which ones.

Binding of Isaac: Beyond is ranked 5,089th on Fimfiction. It is the 12,836th longest story and can be found in 804 bookshelves, being tracked by 380 users.

This statistic is astounding. I have more tracking users than there are degrees in a circle, a higher ranking than there are feet in a mile, and more favorites than the site is willing to disclose. (Seriously, is there a way of checking favorites? I'd like to know.)

You people are brilliant. Thank you so much for your kind words and attention!

I've gotten the assistance of a second editor in edition to HydraLightning, so three cheers for GlassFloors for their help!

Thread

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Samson was pissed.

Not just “I’m annoyed” or “I want to hit something” mad, but “I will tear out your jugular and show it to you just to convey an infinitesimal fraction of the level of anger I wish to express towards you” mad.

It wasn’t as if he could really do that to the pompous donkey behind him, but damn did he want to.

Not only did she step into a place she had not an ounce of right to be in twice, but then she had the audacity to start telling him what to do, threatening him, and giving a show of force that cost him two whole soul hearts.

Needless to say, that was not a good second impression. And seeing as he knew he couldn’t take her head-on, he had no choice but to escort her to that group of useless clods she called her own.

The child scoffed. He remembered seeing them cower in corners, utterly helpless. He was younger than most of them, technically - the basement arguably doesn’t let him mature and age, he presumed - and they were so pathetic. Even the eldest in the room couldn’t handle the Crickets. The children, hell, he could see them being afraid of the Hosts and things, but the adult was just disappointing. Mind you, half of them refused to even talk to him for a good ten minutes for fear of him killing them, but still.

He honestly wasn’t sure why he felt so obligated to helping them - they weren’t doing jack for him. Literally no benefit, just headache.

But… that wasn’t really their fault, was it? They didn’t choose this. They didn’t want to be here. They were completely innocent, victims of that dumb demon’s antics.

Come to think of it, that was apparently what happened to Her High-and-Mighty-ness, wasn’t it?

… He still had every right to hate her, though.

Finally, they reached the room he’d corralled them in. Adjacent to the item room, it was where this run had dropped him after the previous floor. Samson, fortunately, had the foresight to fight the boss without letting them see - He was pretty certain they’d probably die of fright against The Haunt he had been anticipating.

As of now, there were nine of them. An adult stallion who was sobbing in the corner, and several children, some of which gave the occasional awkward glance at the stallion. When they saw him come in, there was a simultaneous ebb and flow of tension, the apprehension of unfamiliarity being replaced by the intimidation Sampson presented.

He stood tall before them, and taller than most of them. “Listen up, I found -”

He never finished his sentence. Luna shouted over his voice, “Do not fear, my subjects - I have come to rescue you from this place!”

He glared up and behind him at the alicorn, but she did not notice, brushing roughly past him to comfort and greet her subjects.

Please, he pointed out in his head. You don’t even know where you are.

They rushed to her, clamoring for attention and her comforting smile, some crying, all relieved that their princess, their savior, had come. Samson leaned in the doorway, clenching and unclenching his fists, really, really, wishing he had something he could punch right now. He glared over at them, expecting them to be smiling and laughing and generally being happy as if to spite him, but instead noticed something else.

The stallion wasn’t among them. The oldest in the room was nowhere to be seen. The other ponies didn’t even seem to notice, but he’d vanished without a trace.

“What is it?” Luna asked him suddenly, causing him to flinch. “Is something amiss?”

“Guh- er, nothing. Just…” He paused for a moment. She doesn’t know, I’m in the clear. “I’m pretty sure the last room left is the boss room.”

“The ‘boss?’” Luna repeated. “Would that be the demon from earlier?”

“Yes, gold star to you.” He mocked. “Top of the class, grade A-”

“Leave it to me,” She glowered, taking steps towards the door they’d came from. “I will take care of it.”

Incredulous, Samson snickered. “Wow. Look at you, bravely wandering in a blind direction, to fight an enemy you know nothing about.”

She turned to glare at the child. He stared back, the glistening orbs of rubber cement masking the spiteful hatred he held in his heart specifically for her.

It was a staring contest, for a while. Everypony - and the single human - was silent, the only sound being the ever present creaking of the floorboards above. Sampson smirked in spite of himself. “You know, I never have to blink with this stuff on. You’re not gonna win. Not against me, or against Lil’ Horn.”

“Hey!” one of the foals called out. “My horn’s the normal size!”

Dead silence followed. Samson slowly raised his hands, and began to applaud with increasing vigor, obviously trying to hold back laughter. “You. I like you.”

Tension broken, he turned back to the princess, his face skeptic, and tone deadpan. “But seriously. You’re gonna die if you go in there blind and that leaves me stuck with these… your problems. I’m going in there and you’re staying right here.”

“I will not sit idly by while you fight for us,” she argued. “And you lack the power to stop me.”

He turned and started back toward the door across the room. His voice was low and even as he said, “And are you saying that because you want to protect them, for their sake? Or because you’re trying to prove yourself? You’re just trying to show everyone that you’re good enough, because they don’t think you are, aren't you?”

Before she could even consider objecting, Samson ventured further, still walking, a slight note of strain in his tone. “Or are you just scrambling to find a reason not to despise yourself for your failures? Trying to make up for some stupid mistake because you can’t bring yourself to fess up and apologize? Because it’s not them that hate you, but yourself?”

Taken aback, Luna did not pursue, instead favoring to turn her gaze to the floor in shame. Grimly, Samson scowled. I knew it. She’s just another pompous, self-absorbed, idiot who got themselves thrown into just the fate they know they deserve -

And then she pushed right past him. “It doesn’t matter why I do it, so long as it keeps them safe.” She said plainly, not looking at him.

But he still watched her teardrops hit the floor.

Author's Notes:

And it's been awhile... since I last saw you.

You are your own worst enemy.

Christ on a bike the fact that people are still looking at this astounds me. And I feel awful for that huge delay on this chapter.

Admittedly my interest in the show has waned considerably, but I do feel this story shouldn't suffer for it. I still have the same understanding of them, and the setting still works fine. I've just... been inattentive, I suppose.

But Isaac's still the poop, dood. I still play it. I still love it.

I really do want to finish this story. I won't rush it, but it's not gonna be a "oh he'll be done in 6 months fo' sho'" deal either.

I had about 70% of this done for the longest time. I've literally just finished it the night I'm writing this.
I hope you've enjoyed and thank you for your patience.

No editors here, I didn't feel right bothering the two after such a long time.