> Favorable Alignment
>  by Ice Star
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Prologue: A Message to Set Things in Motion
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Despite what appeared to be isolation, he was never truly alone. There were no other ponies, of course, not like there were in the small images of a desert land that found their way into the mind of them all from time to time. Though, none was sure to whom such echoes of memory belonged, since neither had anything like that to call their own beyond woe. All these half-creatures lived under one name, and one body. They shared the same magic. Individual thoughts hardly occurred in the blood sport of their eternity, and they knew only how to inflict the utmost agony upon one another, or to suffer.

They were voices, or most were. Some had been reduced to communicating only by impressions of their own despair inserted into the thoughts of those around them, begging for any torment to cease with only sensations and images in a desperate attempt to tell of all they endured. 

Many had no distinctive traits other than a tone of voice and place within the primordial entropy that was their shared conscious as a broken instrument in a frantic symphony. Few had personalities, or they had all been ground into an exhausted submission to pain and the knowledge that they were broken. None had developed a true sense of self that was anything but a fragment of anything past knowing that they existed, and that each was within this awful union of many. There was no reflection, especially by the numerous lessers, the weak who still cried out from the few that rose to the top through might and cruelty. They all blurred into an indistinguishable mess after all these years. The few that had anything close to a sense of self were always incomplete and their 'self' could not be called completed.

There were echoes of things: deserts, sisters, gods, citadels, and a great world and the ashes it came to be. More flashed into thought, and more faded, creating hollows of being that could never be filled, and these old, harvested ripples of a being left to be dissected.

He that was part of them. They were part of him. There was no distinction any more, if there had ever been any before, it went unrecalled or was merely the illusion of a few. And perhaps the sands and sisters were too, yet there were vivid things: all that had been broken by this being had all their moments of torment etched in him for infinite hungry remembrances.

He was a demon. A Shadow, being the terrible unity of a summoner and all his dark creations.

But he did have a name, however unimportant it was. He was Umbra, they were Umbra, for he branded them under his own name. Even the caster, who had such a thing plastered over him so long ago was Umbra now. Throughout the course of time after even the last stages of his First Raze were gone, he had tried to fade away. There wouldn't be any history left, and if any creatures survived at all, those who were not demons would not even have basic magic mastered in time for the Second that was to come. He had left no Alicorns, he was certain of it. And the only thing really needed to break a world was to break its gods. No tragedy was worse than the world without Alicorns.

The cycle would continue again for as long as Umbra felt compelled to, just as he had done to the Alicorns so long ago. He faded physically, since mentally they were hardly whole. Few distinct fragments could be found after all these millennia. All were connected in the unbreakable web of strife that was their existence sealed by the spell.

After all, what remained? Who remained? There were no Alicorns. 

There should be no Alicorns.

This nagged at him, eating away at him like the tides ate away at the shores of land he had greatly distanced himself from.

He was one with the voices, and they whispered and raged as endlessly as he did. There was no sleep. None of them knew such a thing, not that they needed it, or if they ever had it.

What if one had survived? What if not all was as empty as the interior of the Isle? What if you, Umbra, failed?

So it was many months ago that he sent a sentry, a simple sliver of shadow to view what had become of some land to the north. Nothing interesting was expected, for that was a barren, frozen land that had not even needed to be torn by his First Raze. In the time when culture and gods still lived, and the world was teeming with life, there had not even been kingdoms the caster had known of there. Thus, he was so, so certain that the sentry would slither back with nothing.

But it did find something: a demigod with vague, darker pulses about her.

How?! For there to be magic organized enough to get demigods instead of explosions, an Alicorn ought to be present, or at least be in the world to cultivate a true culture, for no sophistications sprang from the meager efforts of mortals, and certainly none that ever ended well. Nothing would last. So how could one such immortal escape him?

How long was it that he waited and pondered this in the realm where time has no meaning? He let such information stew within him and sear his thoughts. Then, he decided what better way to introduce himself than with a message.

For this he obtained a shark. Such creatures lived in the sea realms, which he never bothered to touch during the First Raze, since they co-existed with the land. Such a place had been dubbed 'the Overworld' by the creatures below. The underwater realms would only fall if the Overworld did, and he had rather intimate knowledge to confirm he had lured both of the ocean Alicorns to their doom ages ago. Both were outside of the Isle, and it had required that he go through the trouble of fetching a shark.

It was a large shark whose blood was currently pooling on the black floor, as it lay cold and dead, its glassy eyes and almost as hollow as Umbra was.

Hollow voices. Evil voices. His voices.

With a quick gesture the crimson drenched äerint crystal sank back into darkness. The äerint he created, the äerint he named before so many voices. Such a foggy, terrible time that was, and perhaps it was where the echoes came from: a time that begged to be crushed.

"You will make an excellent messenger," he hissed.

The corpse did not speak and Umbra felt rage boiling inside all the voices, the magic burning parts of his form, although he did not care about the pain that rippled through his own flesh.

"You do not feel like talking?" he snarled at the cold creature.

His demonic laughter echoed through the crudely sculpted chamber.

"It is time to warn the survivors that they are not alone!"

He thought of his bait, which would be irresistible to the Alicorns he sought, since one of them must had escaped and would know his magic, for the corpse would reek of it and be preserved by it simultaneously, pulling the slain creature to the shore. 

But who could the Alicorn be? It couldn't have been one of the three strange youths who fought, the two sisters and their brother. The three had been old enough for war, as judged by who, he had not known. They had all tagged along with their parents, two aunts and uncles. Each had been from a key family of the Alicorns, supported by others. Sky Alicorns and mountain Alicorns had been both slain by him and hunted down after the wars. But those youths? He had his way with them all - in the case of one, literally so - and had brought about their ends. The only Alicorns left had to be the ones of the dead world, and yet they had hidden away both their nigh-impenetrable realms and themselves. He hadn't quite dared to upset that tricky balance, but perhaps they had actually left their havens to collect all the ghosts he had left.

If it was a youth, it might have been one of those who were bonded to the mountains and stone. Those Alicorns had been busy when it came to family, and for all their numbers, they were horribly good at sealing themselves away and hiding. Although, he would be almost surprised - if he could feel such a thing -  were it not one. They were always a ferocious bunch until he had dealt with them. The last one he could think of would have to be a an adult whose mind was warped by what they had seen, for they would not be able to find much for a mate. 

And so it was that a message was written, blood pooling from the scratches carved in flesh, and sliced in bone as he sought whoever got away, enchantments finding their way onto the shark's skin to combat the effects of nature and the tides so everything might be read clearly before the departure of his testimony.

Time too, would find itself as his unwilling ally once more, since not enough time had passed for the Second Raze to begin, and he personally wished to test this escapee just like all the others. He was not above the thrill of luring somepony back for pre-apocalypse encounters.

And first blood was never something to waste.
> Chapter 1: The Year That Could End the World
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Sombra:


What have I done in the year since my last run in with a princess? Equestria is a remarkably big place and I've already disregarded the borders that divide each and everything from one another, so there was nothing to keep me from going where I pleased. This included associating with that business family in Las Pegasus, who were decently surprised when they learned the identity of their latest colleague. But for now, I think I'll let what happened in Las Pegasus stay in Las Pegasus.

The last thing I expected to be seeing this one summer was any kind of contact from Pink One any time soon. She is the one that has tried to back up the claim that she has responsibilities. Apparently, that responsibility doesn't extend to decent hoof writing and sending scrolls to me that she hasn't spilled that yellow colored juice ponies like to consume in the mornings on. She's lucky I'm still able to read a single word of this.



S,



Oh, so I'm just 'S' now? Is she really going so far to deprive the Right-Honourable Lord Sombra of the rest of his name? 'S' could be anypony without proper context like that husband of hers, Shiny Sparkle. That starts with an 'S' too, Pink One.

Really, this wounds me.

In the next few lines, her letters start to appear more and more jumbled to the point where some of her hastily scribbled words have no space between them. I'll excuse the lack of punctuation - somepony was clearly in a hurry - but otherwise this is decently disgusting to look at.



Ineed you toteleport, if you can, toParadise. It'simportant and you'vebeen there before and you'reimmortal so itwill work, remember? I got a letter fromAuntie aboutsomething super important but she wouldn't quite saywhat but it's a summit, S.

I'mwriting this as quickly aspossible while eating, but you have to go. I'll be there and ifthe words 'dark magic' meananything toyou thenyou'll want to come.

Ithinkwe'll be needing you whether somepony wants to admit itor not. Idrewup a spell foryou in case something you tryfails. You won't have to worryabout me exploding since eventhough Twi and I aren'timmortal we did somethingvery similar tobecome alicorns whichallows usto bypass this.

She'll probably bethere too, and I don't mean Twi.

-Cadance



Flame crawls along the edge of the scroll and eats it away once I finish reading, and the ashes fall to the ground in the instant I ready a teleportation spell, trying to recall everything I can about the poorly-named realm of Paradise. This should be similar enough to opening a pocket dimension, but for other reasons much more difficult than teleporting from one town to another, distance excluded.

During the seasons between last summer and this one, I felt the effects of immortality begin to show with my magic. It's like a key to a door that unlocks part of yourself you always knew of but could never use. After even a single hour of introspection on a level that isn't unusual for myself, I was awed by how many limitations were removed, how much clearer each and everything felt, and how vast my already complex being was.

Immortality lets me harness that; my magic is going to be so much better from here on out and I can't wait to see how. It itches to be used even more these days.

Canterhorn Mountain fades as magic brings me elsewhere, and I catch the last glimpse of the city far below. I've long stopped looking at the castle and the buildings that gather around it in favor of my old habit of stargazing, which had lessened for a while. The horizon's call has never faded.



...



The pavilion was packed this time around. Celestia had written to more than just her former students, although this was to be expected from an orderly, if unbearable, goddess. I didn't know a single Alicorn in here. I wasn't entirely sure if everypony here was an Alicorn either, but it looked to be so. Everypony was loosely gathered around the pool from last time, each standing only a few paces away. None were gathered anywhere near the twin thrones of clear, pure crystal. Their smoothly curved surfaces reflected the twilight that had not changed since my last time here. This made the empty seats of the colossal structures look even more forsaken then they already were.

On went my hood as soon as I spotted a familiar lilac Alicorn in the distance, her gold mane waving like all the others. She was shouting something I couldn't hear at a red coated Alicorn stallion who kept shifting into various creatures and laughing too loudly at Elysium's sternness.

I should try to find Pink One before somepony notices I'm here, I think as I step out of the path of one of the gods I sensed nearby. I'm not sure how many are here, but so far there's Elysium, Pink One, Purple Eyesore, Celestia, Luna, the red one, and I even saw the gray one that appeared to collect Purple Eyesore's soul flying about. All of them are confirmed to be here, even if I haven't seen most of them, I do feel magic mingling. 

I've seen two other Alicorns I do not know: a russet mare with a fiery mane and strange wings in the likeness of a butterfly and the loud colorful lights that explode in the night sky during summer, except that hers are only blue and gold. I'm unable to get a closer look at her because the second, a light blue stallion, walks by.

I don't care to look at them any more since, none of them matter to me. As I turn away, I have to evade a group that consists of Purple Eyesore and a strange hodgepodge creature who stands quite tall. He's laughing even louder than the red Alicorn, but his laughter isn't quite as thunderous. They are calling over to the blue stallion I just saw, and I decide it's best just to disable my visibility with an invisibility spell even after they've passed.

So far Purple Eyesore is the shortest creature out of all those of here. There's too much talking everywhere in the background and it's starting to get on my nerves, since a few are using that form of elevated tone that Alicorns possess and the atmosphere here is too busy to be pleasant. I find it distasteful. Everypony's waiting for something, that much is clear.

The magic here is phenomenal, I can feel it everywhere and all this magic at once is somewhat overwhelming, since it feels like standing in a snowstorm. None of them, if any, know how to come close to controlling themselves in situations like this, and I'm starting to feel a bit sick which makes it hard to pick out who's who.

By this time I'm decently annoyed, and I swear that if I don't find-

I'm startled and thrown back into focus when I hit somepony on my left side and the spell falters for a moment.

"Sombra?"

"Pink One?"

"Aww, no 'Best Niece'?"

"Don't get your hopes up." I drop the remains of the spell entirely and turn so I can see her properly. Her mane is messily pulled back with a sloppily tied blue bow that's coming undone. She doesn't have her crown or look like she's been awake for very long. Her necklace is missing as well, and she couldn't seem to decide whether she wanted to wear plush slippers or gold shoes on her hooves, and ended up with two of each.

"Hi?"

I ignore her greeting and stare at the bowl she has clutched in her magic. When I fail to respond, Pink One takes a large slurp from the bowl. I'm able to see that there's some kind of grain product... err, cereals, floating inside it, along with a spoon. I have seen ponies eat this, and I don't care about that, there's something odd about this particular variety of cereal.

"Pink One?"

She stops slurping from the bowl. "Oh, sorry, what is it?"

"What are those colorful beads floating in... whatever it is you're eating?"

She looks inside, at the few bits of food that still float around. "These? They're marshmallows, Sombra."

"The fluffy sugar things?"

"Yes, those," she answers while swirling the spoon around to scoop them up.

"Why are you eating right now?"

Pink One gives one sad look at the colorful marshmallows before returning them to the bowl for now. She suggests that we move farther away from the crowd to talk, and I agree. We make our way to a column where nopony will notice us. She nearly loses one of her slippers and acts like it's the end of the world before she answers my question.

"That letter I sent, you know the one I spilled orange juice on?"

"It's yellow, not orange, and you shouldn't be attempting to slander my own when yours is barely legible."

"Well, jeez. Anyway I had to choose between writing the letter and not helping you out with your relationship."

"Say that again, and you will be Worst Niece."

She makes a muffled chirping noise in her throat before returning to the marshmallows and devouring them. I've stopped paying attention to her at this point, and my gaze travels between the carvings on the column I'm leaning against and everypony still walking about. My tail flicks and Pink One swallows a mouthful of marshmallows funny when she sees my left eye twitch as I watch all of them.

"Why is everypony even here?"

Pink One stops tilting the bowl upside down and mumbling how she was sure there had to have been more marshmallows and replaces the spoon with a clink. "Didn't I write why? Also, you don't have to keep your voice so low since it isn't like-"

Both of our gazes are drawn to the golden light that starts to grow near the thrones. There's no doubt in my mind who is behind that teleportation spell. However, the former statement isn't true. Amore is the one watching the golden light while I'm looking at the blue light forming next to it and everything else just fades...

I watch as the teleportation spells complete and everypony's gaze is drawn to the two goddesses at the foot of the otherworldly thrones. They exchange a few words before Luna slips into the crowd. I can't see her anymore! She was walking to my left and Pink One moved to tap my withers, but I became distracted when I smacked her hoof away with a short growl and now I can't see her!

From here, I'm able to see Celestia's somber gaze sweep over those that have gathered. She trots forward a few steps, around the pool's edge. She hasn't seen me or her niece who linger on the sidelines, as out of place as that is for Pink One.

She, the sun princess, starts to speak but her blinding light does not extend to taint all; I'm proof of that, and I know that wherever she is in the crowd, she is too.

As always, I reside in the shadows.



...



Celestia is not a storyteller, she cannot make me feel for what she speaks about and nothing is brought to life. She is a poorly written history text, everything is delivered simply with no detail or emotion, or at least none that I could see. I wasn't swayed by a single thing she spoke, I was as distant as ever from everything she said.

She spoke of everything that came before, except for when she didn't. It is clear to me that Celestia seems not only to be omitting things, but also speaks like she's trying to make the half-remembered anecdotes of a filly relevant to the scenario. The clipped, vaguely distressed tone, and a few signs others might have not noticed all pointed to what was obvious enough to me. Celestia knew enough of what she spoke of, but wasn't the best authority on it since she seems to be more of a witness than a direct participant, and a witness that wants to forget something as well.

Still, Celestia goes on speaking about the Alicorns which she isn't old enough to recall everything of. A few of the other Alicorns present shift either in discomfort or boredom, as they already know what Celestia is droning on about, and most likely saw it for themselves. It was about the same here, since the books in the Empire used to have all sorts of things on this, but at least all of those told me strange, new things about the world. I'm stuck listening to her and searching the crowd as best as I can from here in order to find somepony far more important to me. One of the taller Alicorns must be in the way, and Amore is still listening to Celestia speak.

I only begin to listen after I can no longer keep myself occupied recalling all my triumphant missions of when I was still in Canterlot that consisted of me lighting some annoying duke's topiaries on fire before I went off on my latest trip.

Sombra: 17 Blueblood: -3

By this time Celestia has already exhausted one universal law thoroughly, since she somehow managed to hold my attention, and with only two simple words: dark magic.

Her horn lights up and her gold magic holds something I can't see but those who can look terrified and gasp.

Pink One over here is trying to look over there, before looking at me. "Sombra, I want to go over there and-"

"Same here, follow my lead," I add and before she can protest, I see her abandon her bowl and do as I told her to. I shove Purple Eyesore aside and she turns to see who would do such a thing, looking like she's ready to scold me before she realizes just who she's looking at. Her face pales at least six shades of disgusting purple so she's almost as light as her mentor before she squeaks and runs away, but not before giving a friendly look to Amore here.

Two magenta-gray eyes catch sight of me. Celestia, her face flushed with hatred, goes back to speaking and pretending she didn't see me. I can see what rests in her magic, and Amore can too. It is some kind of creature, or rather the mangled corpse of one. There is neither fur or scale upon its body and it radiates the same magic within me, which tinges the flat silver and white body it has gray. The maw hangs open as if it is gasping for breath, and it plainly shows off rows of jagged teeth that could only belong to a carnivore. Blood runs from various gashes on the skin, although it is quite clear to me that the gaping wound somewhere along the belly is what killed it. The creature reeks of water and has been dead for quite a while. I can hear Amore gag behind me before she leaves. Like most ponies, she is unable to stomach the dead, and a dead animal that has gone through abuse, too.

Some of the enchantments that I can feel on it are to keep the flesh from rotting, but the others are for something that I can read, but don't understand. Most have to do with some kind of water.

Celestia goes on to mention how this... well whatever kind of creature this is... was found by somepony called a 'sea-pony'. I still don't know what that is. Or who. Which is it?

None of this prepares me for what I see on the side, which is barely intact. Letters in familiar spidery hoofwriting have found their way there, and images of pages from the Book swim around when I blink my eyes. They feel the same, and with the exception of the materials used, the writing is identical. Each letter is held in place by all too familiar crystals that stretch to keep each wound readable, their surfaces bloody from doing so.

I haven't bothered to read what is laid out there, since out of everypony here, I don't have to. It doesn't matter anyway, since a piece of äerint bursts, the small shards flying as violet and green fire tears across the cold form of the creature before whirling and disappearing. By this time somepony is shouting at one another and I've slipped out of the circle and gone back to the sidelines, having disappeared from the crowd that didn't even know I was there.

I'm not at the same pillar as before and 'out of sight, out of mind' is an understatement for this crowd, since I watch somepony else slip away as I do.

It's Luna.

She's looking awfully thoughtful about something by the look in her eye, a welcome contrast to what is now arguing in the background. A black cloak that I don't think I've seen before is draped about her form and her magic is fumbling a bit with the hood. Even though she appears to be 'lost in thought' I'd say she's quite present, a quality I don't see too often. The way she holds herself is terribly intriguing.

The stone of the column, which I would have taken for marble if it weren't for how natural and intricate the vine relief on it looks, feels cool as I lean against it. Luna isn't close enough to realize I'm here, and I can see quite clearly that she's not sticking around, and I wasn't planning on it either... especially not when she isn't.

Just before her horn lights up in a teleportation spell that only I'll see, I cast a nice tracking spell that I'm thankful to have learned so I know exactly where she'll end up.

Her and I will being heading to the same place, and as she vanishes I do too, because from here on out things are going to be quite interesting. I didn't need to read what was cut on that strange creature's skin to know what's going to happen.

Whoever ended the old world wants to end the new one too.
> Chapter 2: Conquering the Horizon
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Sombra:


I cringe a bit as I'm slammed into the clean, light gray-white wall of the peacefully empty mountainside path in Canterlot. The gray cobbles are framed by a barrier that lead to small strips carved out by magic where strange structures float. I've never seen them before, but they look vaguely like a house and a large balloon. I didn't get to look too closely at them because as soon I turned the corner, I was greeted quite harshly.

So, here I am with my back shoved up against a wall and looking into two fierce turquoise eyes, each shining sharply with the question she speaks, as determined as ever to read the answer on her own.

And I like that.

"Why were you following me?"

Her tone, like the look in her eyes, is sharp but not hostile - just to the point - and proves that her thoughts are elsewhere. That very look tells me that she'd rather be doing something else. What exactly that might be, I aim to find out.

It's nice to see you again, too. "Do you really think that I'm the sort that would stick around to see what was going on back there?"

"Perhaps you are," she replies frankly, "I do not know exactly what 'sort' you are, and that still does not explain why you would follow me."

"I'd be a bit more willing to answer if your forehoof wasn't trying to sever my spine and all my hooves were touching the ground."

She snorts with amusement. "Give me the answers I want, and I will consider it, but do not think I will let you get away that easily."

I don't remind her that I can just dissolve into shadow since she's probably anticipating that. "Well, let's just say that I'm not the sort who likes crowds."

Luna nods slightly, and everything but that wonderfully intense gaze of hers softens a bit. "As to why you were following me?"

"You're going somewhere."

"Really? I had no idea."

I'd kiss her for that one but I'm not exactly able to right now.

"Yeah, and I want in."

She blinks her thickly lashed eyes in surprise and removes her forehoof so I fall to the ground. By the time I get up, she's still looking me over again and it's quite obvious that she's thinking, which from my experience with the other three isn't the most princess-y thing to do.

"Do you know what I am even doing?"

"Shoot."

"To save time by putting this simply, I am going to find somepony. You may not have caught the writing on that shark, but I did and there is something I need to do, even if everypony..." She trails off and for a moment I can see the underlying sadness flicker in her eyes.

"Tell me later, I guess. It's still quite clear you're going somewhere that will take you far away."

A nod from her. "Possibly. Why is it you wish to come?"

You. "You look to be in need of a mercenary, and I'm not exactly a witness you can dispose of." I neglect to mention my skill in magic, my combat ability, that I speak multiple languages, am incredibly handsome, and have a sharp mind and far sharper tongue. She's always been the reason.

Always.

She's still looking me over, eyes searching me up and down. The look on her face is thoughtful still. After a few moments her eyes stop drifting across my form. "Do you have any experience in stealing things?"

Plenty.

"Who, me? Of course not! I'm the Right-Honourable Lord Sombra, need I remind a fair maid like yourself that 'Honour' is in my name and-"

It's my turn to be surprised when I look to see her giggling softly, the same forehoof she used to slam me against the wall behind me now covers a small smile. I don't even get a chance to respond when she seizes me by gathering the front of my cloak in her magic and I'm dragged away. I'm not even able to stifle a small trill of surprise. 

"I suppose you will do," she says without turning back to look me in the eyes. She's a bit taller than when I last saw her, so the next time I'm not shoved up against a wall and I get to stand next her she'll probably be taller by about another two inches. Gods know that I find her being tall appealing, and now she's at full height and not a giantess... it's very nice. She isn't wearing her crown or her shoes, and the latter would interfere with any guesses but that won't be a problem now.

She still seems a bit nervous, but that was to be expected. At least she seems happier than the last time I saw her. Her laughter sounds so earnest and warm. I want to get her to laugh again. I want her to be happy and open around me, though her not striking me as a general conversationalist might mean I'll have to take even more care with approaching her. And with how she's interacted with me so far? Every word from her is intriguing at the least and tantalizing at the most.

After seeing what that potion showed me in the Archives I'm just relieved that she's still here, that she wasn't lost by what she must have gone through, and everything I saw all those years ago... they were just so obvious... but she's okay... oh thank goodness she's okay. 

I'll be able to keep an eye on her to make sure she's alright. There's something about her that worries me, and I can't name it, but I think I've seen it in her eyes. If we were more familiar, I would like to wrap a foreleg around her withers, if she would let me, because after all these years apart, I had been hoping...

Yes, me hoping for anything is a bit odd... but this was something so out of my control. I had hoped that history would be as kind to her as it has been cruel to me.

Her eyes are lighter than I remember. I'm glad.



...



I am not alone. As soon as I had gotten a chance to slip deeper into my own thoughts, I knew this and I'm not referring to Luna, who is still dragging me along. A better way to put this would be I'm not the only demon. This isn't such a big deal compared to other happenings. I always knew that whoever wrote the Book most likely ended up with demons too. I wasn't sure if they were still alive or if something had happened to them.

When I was out in the Arctic with Purple Eyesore I saw proof of this, a tracking spell of some kind that was no doubt drawn to me, and there was no way in Tartarus that I was going to let it discover me.

Even if I wasn't what it was after, there's only one possibility left.

It was looking for Alicorns.

Whoever is behind this is behind everything that led to the Alicorn Absence as well and why I seem to be the only pony aware of just how dire the situation was. Ponies now just think that there were a few Alicorns who simply vanished a long time ago like there was nothing wrong, if they speculate beyond Celestia's 'history' at all. They aren't aware of anything that came before, nor have they spent hours poring over books that detailed so much of what was and many of the have-beens.

I once heard a pony in the very streets of Canterlot, a city renowned for its scholars, say that Alicorns are just a combination of the three races. What ignorance is this?! I bet this same pony thinks that unicorns, pegasi, crystal, and earth ponies are the only races of pony to have ever lived. Did they even know that crystal ponies aren't earth ponies? Whose idea was it to limit the pony races to three? There are not three, nor have there only ever been three, but there are at least four surviving races of pony and a few more species of equine that appear to have made it through whatever happened.

I want to learn what happened to rob this world of its gods and plunge it into the dark ages so that only now it begins to compare to all the texts and diagrams I've memorized. I want to help Princess Luna in this, since I know things she may not and I won't let anything happen to her. I'm going to figure out what led to this world becoming such a confused and blind place so that creatures like me were able to exist without much nearly as much persecution as I would have gotten ages ago and that mortals were left in charge of empires they couldn't defend.

It has to be the same entity, the one who wrote the Book, made the amulet, sank everything else and left everypony who managed to stumble away from the death of most of their population to fall into ignorance and be left for dead until those two appeared.

She knows something too, or else she wouldn't be here, and I wouldn't be here if she wasn't.



...



"Here it is," Luna says, gesturing a hoof to one of the carved stone walkways running alongside the mountain path where the floating contraptions were bobbing in the air while wild forests grew below the mountain. 

I stared at it; like all the others it was roughly the size of a small house, and to some degree it resembled a building in Canterlot with its smooth appearance in swirls of white, purple, and gold.

Luna and I were on the walkway, which was really more of a small bridge that led nowhere, and she held a large coil of rope in her magic, which in turn was attached to this...

I paced further down the walkway and found the words 'SKY SCRAPER' written on the side.

"Have you never seen a airship before?"

"Umm, never up close, and certainly not put together. Aren't they usually less...?"

I nodded.

"You must be speaking of ships more akin to a zeppelin, aye?" She moves together more of this rope, and I look up at the balloon part of the airship.

"Is that what keeps it afloat, Princess?"

"Yes," she responds from where she flies, checking the nearby ropes although I'm not sure what for but it does look like she's untying them. "Think of it like a boat, but for the sky."

"What's a boat?"

"I can tell you later, right now would you care to help me with getting this ready before Celestia realizes that I am not going off somewhere to take a break and cool down, as she would have guessed. We need to get the Sky Scraper ready in less than ten minutes, alright?"

"Yes, I'm well aware that we are most likely on a time limit but I don't even know what this is but isn't that a military emblem painted right there on the front?"

"On the prow? Yes it is, this is a military navigator's ship, so it is not quite stealing, but it is close enough if you wish to see it that way. Just get up here on deck and take a look at this map, I need you to memorize some coordinates, and then I'll teach you how this works and explain everything you need to know. I promise."

From the deck Luna withdraws a scroll from inside her cloak before removing what looks to be the last of the ropes keeping this here. She tosses it in my direction and I'm about to try to catch it, silently cursing my depth perception all the while, and just hoping that it won't cause me to screw up what is an incredibly simple task since I don't want this to fall off the mountain.

I don't catch the scroll and Luna notices this, but she doesn't say anything. It wasn't lost, all I do is pick it up off the ground and watch the paper, which is now tinted red because of my magic. Marked on the surface in bold black print is a large circle and coordinates written in the same thick, clear print so I don't have to search for small numbers that flow together. Immediately, I have the numbers memorized since coordinates have never been difficult to recall. I roll up the map and teleport to the deck, where Luna is.

"So, why did you want me to know those coordinates? You just circled a space near a city called Manehatten, but why are we heading there."

By this time, Luna has made it clear that we're ready to go in terms of readying this contraption.

"You are good at teleporting, correct?"

"Yes?"

"Well, that is the starting point I marked right there is where I need us to teleport to. I will be able to manage everything from there, since I can fly one of these."

"Alright."

Luna's horn glows a brilliant blue. "Are you ready?"

I only nod, my horn glowing read, a part of me isn't thinking about the numbers that mark our first destination.

She's the only one in world who I'd ask if they really missed me, but I stay silent instead as we disappear from the mountainside along with the Sky Scraper.
> Chapter 3: A Goddess' Discovery
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Luna:



My sister has always been fond of her kind of strategy, gatherings, and games. Often, she could combine them for her own amusement. While she liked a small surprise now and again, she was never one for adventure, not like I am. Even though this part of her nature will always be, despite the conflict it could cause, her opinions are always worth considering as my sister, my friend, and a ruler. But that does not mean they are the only option or are guaranteed to be followed, and her and I still disagree on things terribly often. Her orderly chess-like thinking is not always appropriate and even her decisions are not incorruptible to doubt or alterations of the moment.

She questioned many of the choices I made in regards to this topic, the one thing that I have never considered her word on, and that was because I decided to. We are beyond fighting on this matter, she is still my dearest sister but this is still the only matter where she will use a purely emotional argument, where I can say that she's wrong. I have listened to her time after time, but I will not obey her wishes. I have proof now, I know something went wrong and I will not sit idly by.

I had to get away before she found out what I was doing, and in doing so I ended up with an unintended companion. He is a pony I have no real warmth to, but am not familiar with enough to loathe. There is hardly an indisputable fact I know about this pony, and even what was recorded so many years ago as Celestia dictated history be written is something I still question because I think what I saw, what I never told another soul, contradicts some of what he is made out to be. And if recent tales are to mean anything than I might not be the only one to discover this.

I have only heard small snippets of each tale. Twilight Sparkle speaks of a somewhat darker version of a foal's frightening and unstable madpony that feels too far-fetched and lacking to be true. Cadance tells little, only hinting at a cynical recluse who isn't what he seems while Celestia continues to publicly have him recorded as the tyrant who slaughtered hundreds without a care in the world, and has many heinous aspects to him. It was only after my return as well as the Empire's passing to Cadance that she told me what she had learned from a tattered journal and a few records she was able to view from the crystal kingdom that had only recently shaken off its shackles.

I wanted to do this alone, a companion of any kind would prove too dangerous for what I'm going to do, but if I had to pick anypony to come along regardless of where we'd be going and what we'll be doing, I would have picked Cadance. She is usually unshakably calm when it counts and quite reasonable while he just stands on deck looking apathetic and vaguely grumpy without giving any clue as to why. I don't find the behavior unwelcome, but he is a stranger and has much to answer. I don't think I have done anything to upset him and I don't know if he simply looks like this most of the time.

Hopefully, he'll keep to himself most of the time. I may know little about him but he doesn't seem to be too talkative and neither am I. This could work out splendidly.

We left the ocean area around Manehatten not long ago, and thankfully remained unseen, especially Sombra who locked himself below deck in some of the rooms I showed him earlier. Since the weather was calm and there wasn't anything to worry about for now or any specific coordinates to follow for quite a while, I was able to let the Sky Scraper drift somewhat while I gave him a tour.



...



On an airship intended to face more conflict than its journey could bring, the wheel would be in the small 'house' built for this purpose, however as a navigator's ship this wasn't so. The wheel was out on the deck and crafted differently due to the conditions it would have to face. The frame of the plain door is emblazoned with moons peeking over mountains while the porthole window mimicked a large golden sun. Even seeing all the little balances in such designs for the nth time is touching. It is never something that would have happened a thousand years ago, not when suns might be splashed everywhere.

Throughout the entire tour of the Sky Scraper he remained quiet and distant, not making direct eye contact and hardly uttering a single word. Just by looking at him, he appeared only to regard his new surroundings with the utmost boredom.  I did wish to know his thoughts, for I doubt he was really bored, but he did not give them. Perhaps this will be a mere business partnership I can expect nothing from this mildly intriguing fellow, though I have little problem with paying him at the end of this, if that is what he wishes and he works hard. Tia may complain about immoral mercenaries as she pleases, this one might not be so bad. There were only a few brief changes in his overall demeanor, but those were few and far between.

First, in the navigation room of the ship, which was located in the small wheelhouse he directed an angry glare at a map of Manehatten Harbor he almost tripped over.

When we went down the small set of stairs to the lower level, he inspected the table and benches nailed down in the wall-less dining area, something that was far less stuffy than an enclosed room.

Next, I saw him stopping to examine the spines of several books that were left in the sick room, curiosity flickering in his eyes. Without a doubt they had come from the small library next door.

In the library he almost set the wastepaper basket on fire for no good reason and because of this I refused to show him the interior of the storage room, located in the bow of the ship. His only response to this was a mere shrug.

Then, when showing him the four cabins that lined the Sky Scraper's starboard side, he finally began to speak more and he immediately declared Cabin A, which was right across from the library, his.

"Why did you pick this one?" I asked, gazing at the plain bed, desk, empty lantern, and chest identical to the other three cabins which he had not even seen.

"I wanted to," he replied curtly before stepping inside and after a brief glance around, his horn began to glow with an aura identical to the color of his cloak. The air in the center of the room rippled three times before settling back to how it was before. He frowned slightly before copying his actions, only this time the result was different and the air in the center of the room dissolved, slightly revealing the glimpse of a gray room to me as well as the faint gleam of familiar crystals.

"Are those-?"

"It's called äerint, and yes, they are the same as before."

"Did you name them that?"

"No."

I would have asked him more since his gray crystals are really quite interesting, since they don't follow the patterns normal crystallokinesis does. Instead, I only furthered the silence between myself and this odd stranger.

I wonder how much he remembers of me. I expected anger of some kind after what Tia and I did, but he hasn't even mentioned such a thing. If he really is Onyx, he has never acted like it all the times I have seen him, but his deeds on a larger scale are things that Onyx would want if he had the power. They do look like each other, but only barely. Sombra is decently handsome, I suppose. I'm not exactly one to bother to judge that of anypony. Onyx was quite filthy and plain, thought a little girlish. Sombra is decidedly more masculine, and looks quite clean. I have no idea how old either is, and I last saw Onyx when he was... oh, I forget how old he appeared to be, but the pony I am travelling with appears to be older. Perhaps they were brothers?

I suppose I'll find out either way.



...



"Princess, do you have anything better to do than stare at me?"

For a brief moment our gazes met. It's been over a thousand years and that's the first thing he says? I am still waiting for him to belt out a declaration of revenge, to do anything that suggested ulterior motives instead of apathy and slight irritation.

I resume steering as soon as his gaze falls to the deck's floor. "So what exactly is this?"

"A boat," I mumble, "think of it like a carriage or a train. Usually they go over water, but this is an airship and I do not think I need to explain that to you."

"Why is it called an airship instead of an air-boat?"

"A ship is another name for a boat."

He blinks once in what appears to be comprehension and then looks out at the sea. "Why is this lake so big?"

"Have you never seen the ocean before?"

He shook his head. "I wouldn't be asking if I had."

Congratulations Onyx, for once in your life you have made a fair point.

I close my eyes for a moment, not just to push away the scowl I wanted to make or the memories of a stupid young colt, but to bring a clear picture of the map I was conjuring to mind.

A soft 'poof' and the audible dispel of sparkles told me I had succeeded before I had even opened my eyes.

When I did open them a map of most of the world now rested in a sparkling turquoise cloud of magic. The lands were drawn in clean lines of navy ink on crisp parchment and each city had its name in clear print next to the precise location.

By levitating it over to him just as the sparkling aura dispelled, I was able catch him off-guard with the small token. His expression going from nonchalant to stunned as a crimson bolt of magic swiped it up. He quickly unrolled it and exclaimed: "That's an ocean?!"

"Yes, we will be travelling across most of the eastern sea; do you see where it is?"

"How can this much water be in one place? It's all just sitting here, right below us!"

"I suppose the library's books will have something that can explain that. Would you say you are a big reader?"

"That's an understatement, I'd say I'm a full-blown bibliophile."

After this statement we both returned to relative silence that had defined most of this trip so far. He was only a few paces away from the wheel, and snuck peeks at the map often while silently refusing to go to close to the modest guardrail around the deck. I noticed that he either seemed to loathe eye contact, be distracted, or have an unnatural love of wheels as he watched the ship's great gold-colored wheel spin with an expression that suggested either scattered thoughts or a lack of amusement.

"So, Princess, what are your plans?"

I was staring out at the sky, a few faint wisps of cloud floating not far above us when he said this.

Princess? Why did he choose to only call me this? Was he not known to come up with obnoxious, if well-wrought aliases for Cadance and Twilight Sparkle? Or was he just waiting to coin a name once he had the material to use against me and the opportune moment? Perhaps that is why he refrained from anything. It does not change how much I despise nicknames.

"Since it is my cousin Neptune who knows the most about the shark that was found, I will steer this ship towards his realm and pay him a visit, with you accompanying me."

He certainly looked much more attentive now. "How come we can't just teleport there?"

"Neptune changes the palace where he currently resides every four months, and in no particular order. He never releases the coordinates of any of his cities and is hardly on decent terms with any cartographer that has ever lived. He hates the idea of one teleporting to Aquastria so much that he expends massive amounts of energy on counterspells and barriers at all times, discourages tourism of any sort, and there are also some environmental hazards with your proposal of teleportation."

"How would you describe Neptune's personality?"

"Oh, him? He is generally a whiny sourpuss, stick in the mud, who is nothing but tiresome to deal with. On occasion he can be quite a blowhard, but mostly he just acts like somepony with something shoved where the sun does not shine. Only, we will be the ones who are in pain from dealing with him."

"So a nicer version of Celestia, only he's a territorial nut with a border control obsession who resides in a country we can't get into?"

I'll let him have one rude remark about my sister before I decide to tell him off for insulting somepony who isn't even here to witness his remarks. Celestia was not a good pony a thousand years ago and was an even worse sister, but she is not what he makes her out to be since his understanding of her is unlikely to go far.

"There is a way in that I do know of, and you will see it when we get there."

I received no reply from him since he was quite busy with that look of apathy he manages to effortlessly pull off. Will he maintain it for all eternity? It isn't like there's anypony who would be able to stop him. This behavior is so uncharacteristic from what I remember, it was as if he needed somepony to remind him he was a dethroned tyrant who was responsible for the death and misery of so many.

Right now I had to be as cool and distant as I could, at least most of the time. I was not in ideal company since he was still too unpredictable for me to even consider interacting with, all due to his abnormal behavior. It was not very hard either, as I am asocial in nature. But I must admit, he is a bit intriguing. I can't say that for too many ponies.

Maybe he had some kind of partial amnesia like the rest of the Crystalline ponies and this lead to his current state. It might not be likely, but maybe I would be able to tell if-

"Princess, are you going to stare at me disdainfully all day?"

There was a trace of snark in his voice as he said this, still acting as if he were loitering by the wheel instead of just standing here near me. Another moment of silence passed that was so heavy, even the clouds passing above seemed to press down, and the blood in my ears was all I could hear, along with my own heartbeat in this deathly silence that even I didn't fully appreciate anymore.

He could be, came the echo of a thought from deep within my mind, he could be the bratty little colt, after all who's to say I would recognize him if he were full grown and altered by whatever magic he must have meddled in since I last saw him?

There is only one way to find out.

"Maybe I will, Onyx," I hissed.

Those were the magic words, at the mere mentioning of the name a dark, red, hot flame was lit in his eyes and the ship itself seemed to buckle with tension as wisps of crimson and dark aura drifted off of his form, He spat his next words through bared, gritted teeth a full-on scream of seething rage within him only barely contained.

"I'M. NOT. ONYX."

It seemed as though the world around us was static and had no reaction to his shout as a result. This only amplified the anger he put into each growled syllable so it felt comparable to the Royal Canterlot Voice. But now he was not the only one angry. All I did was call him a name, a pony's name.

"WELL SCREAMING AT ME SURE PROVES THAT!"

"My name is Sombra," he said quiet, dark, and angry while quickly striding over to the office door.

"...and I'm not Onyx, but I have a feeling you know exactly what I am."

I only watched as the door slammed.

"Then prove it," I whispered after the longest time, when there was nopony around to listen only to realize he already had, long before either of us had set a hoof on the Sky Scraper's deck and before I ever knew the moon's cold energy.

'Magic wants to be free.'

He had told me that once, ages and ages ago.
> Chapter 4: The Greatest Weapon
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Luna:


As an Alicorn and immortal, I do not have to sleep or eat as a mortal would. I usually to do so anyway, as there can still be negative effects if this were to go on for an unusually long amount of time, although these take longer to appear and are slight compared to what they could be in others. Even though I rarely forgo these things, it's always nice to know that if Sombra does set all the food on fire and dismiss it as an 'accident', I'll still be alright. Since I'm the only one who knows how to steer the ship, I will have to be steering both day and night for a while, or at least until I can teach Sombra how to do something around the Sky Scraper.

He appears to be very inquisitive, seeing how he interacts with things around him. I am not sure what his skill set is, but he did show an interest in the library's books and I imagine that will be a good place to start. While he isn't a liability in any way, I just need him to be able to help out a bit. Hopefully, he has some kind of skill for this, the more unusual the better. If he can do something even mildly strange, like how I can enter dreams while awake, then I shall be thrilled.

And so it was that four days passed without any disturbances. Back in Equestria, Tia raised and lowered the sun, no doubt believing I was using the upcoming days to cool off after what we had discussed and what I had seen. She only assumed, I never told her otherwise; I would not lie. Tia has no idea that I'm already hundreds of miles away. I pause when it is required from directing the airship southward to do the same with the moon before I resume my course towards the lovely land of my most agreeable and practical cousin.



...



While I love the sky, the open ocean merely bores me. It is a fluid and moody mass that quickly goes from calm and hypnotic to stormy and aggressive at a moment's notice, destroying all it comes across. Though to those who traverse, live upon, under, or around it, they know that the ocean holds many surprises and mysteries. It's an adventure just waiting to happen, although it's not one I wish to partake in.

There is no doubt that the ocean deep, it is a fact that none can properly dispute. Onyx is a different matter entirely. He had less depth than a puddle, but somehow he managed to get his hooves on dark magic and... well, I can see the results.

I am not sure, I mused, forehoof still gripping the Sky Scraper's wheel, if that label fits what I see any more.

I turned to stare at a cloud drifting past the port side and habitually combed a forehoof through my mane a couple of times.

Somewhat disappointed with the current environment, I turned back to the wheel, and while I kept my actions in check, my mind was swept up with thoughts of glaciers, mountains ringed in clouds, verdant valleys, endless rivers, bone-dry deserts, and frosty taigas so chilly your teeth could not chatter and your feathers froze. I thought of every rough and vast landscape in all its varied majesty. Swamps and sandbars. Craters and clover fields.

Clover fields far from enchanted forests.

Enchanted forests where, once upon a time, two little fillies lived with their Mother and Father...

...a father who loved to nap in studies and a mother who warned her littlest daughter about Shadows... all but how to tell the difference between their natures. Such is the burden of being a prophet's daughter, I suppose.

One of my hooves reached up to my necklace, where if another pony looked close enough they might see the bluish-purple flicker of smoke behind the white of the moon, where the Tantabus sat dormant within. It was no longer what it had once been now that I had taken the first step in a different direction.

I can still remember when Celestia found our crowns all those years ago, after we led the tribes back and took the first look at our castle home after so long. But while my sister and I returned to our home, as estranged as we were then, what was happening in the north? As Celestia and I returned south with the unified tribes in their exodus from the Arctic, what happened in those brief years before I first laid eyes on Sombra himself? What was left behind in that valley and what is it that I didn't know?

Sombra is a demon; but he's only half of a Shadow. I need not ask who the caster was, it is only everything else that remains unanswered. Well, maybe that was an exaggeration. I did know a bit more, but not about him. I know so little about what happened and while I want to ask him and be as straightforward as possible, I wish to do so tactfully.

If my mother's words have any meaning at all, then any allegiance he has is going to be very polarized, even if I cannot imagine him as such. At least I don't need to imagine him leaning of the Sky Scraper's rail and bringing up everything with an oddly panicked look. When he tried to walk away from the rail, he slid and stumbled before grabbing it again with his forehooves. His face was quite pale, but I must have been so lost in thought I didn't notice he was there, even though he wears those metal boots, which means I should have heard him and-

I should go help him; he looks unusually sick.

After this decision, I teleport over to where he is. Sombra is leaning over the railing again and I put a hoof on his wither when it looked like he was about to fall over now that the Sky Scraper had stopped. He was startled by this, but thankfully had stopped retching.

"Sombra, is this from the ship or something else?"

"The ship," he mumbles.

"I was just making sure," I say, "how are you feeling?"

I have to steady him with my hoof since he certainly seems very dizzy and I'm afraid if he were less focus he would fall right over.

"I-I'm not sure w-was that-" He is not able to finish the rest, but it isn't because of being ill.

"Something that happens to ponies who are merely traveling?"

He is barely able to nod. "I've had it happen when I'm, well, drunk."

"It is normal for ponies to vomit, but usually only when they are ill, or yes, very drunk and I presume that the same goes for you. Do you think that you can walk?"

A shake of his head indicates he clearly does not think so.



...



Sombra was barely able to walk in a straight line. Even in the hall of the Sky Scraper he stumbled around, barely able to keep himself from hitting one of the walls while I briefly explained to him what seasickness was.

"Don't you know any spell to fix this?" he asked, as he collapsed onto a cot in the infirmary and looking positively grumpy while he staring up at the ceiling. Meanwhile, I flip through the pages of a nearby book until I locate the index. There's spells to fix everything in here but seasickness.

I guess nopony counted on there being a passenger without any experience at sea being aboard the navigator's ship over a rescue one, I think as I set the book back on the side table where I had first found it.

"No Sombra, I am afraid I do not. When it came to Celestia and myself, she was always the one to be sick at sea, therefore I had no need of such a spell." I am careful to use Tia's full name around him since he is not close enough to me that I would disclose something to him that might cause even mild embarrassment to my sister.

His expression contorted abruptly, but it wasn't with frustration, he bolted up, looking queasy and looking for the exit again, only to find I had calmly conjured a bucket for him.

Poor fellow, I thought looking away, he barely understands what this is, and now he's confined on a ship with somepony he probably does not care to be around. At least whenever Tia got sick like this she had me around to tease her and cheer her up, but Sombra does not appear the sort who enjoys laughter as a medicine like Tia does.

"It might take a few days, but I think I could try to come up with a spell based on what is in here," I lift the book I had previously placed on a side table nearby. Thankfully, Sombra has ceased using the bucket for now.

"A few days?" he repeats, to which I nod.

"Princess, what am I supposed to do until then?"

My gaze drifts across the room to a small desk in the corner where more misplaced books form a small stack, along with some pens, and a stack of paper that must have been brought down from the office. He must have been locking himself up in that pocket realm of his for the time that I had not seen him to only just be sick, but if he gets as violently sick as I had seen, then there is no way I will be letting this problem escape me and allow him to move back in there for the duration of an important journey. And one I hoped he could be persuaded to contribute to.

"Why not write something?"

"What?"

"Writing, Sombra. Or drawing, you could that too. Can you draw well? I can only manage sketches of fruits and flowers, but practice is the key to improving."

I look back to find him frowning, a slight sadness in his eyes. "...I can't."

"It is alright if you cannot draw, but I imagine that you would at least like to-"

"Princess, I can't."

While I definitely do not enjoy this interruption in the slightest, I will let it slide one time. "It was only a suggestion," I reply tersely, "I imagine that you are quite capable of keeping yourself busy, as reclusive as you are."

"That's not it..."

I remain quiet, silently hoping he will finish with an explanation that we can both work with.

"...I can't write."

"Can you read?"

"Yes."

"But you cannot write at all?"

"Barely. I know how to write my name and a few runes, but I'm not very good at it."

I've forgotten the book that was held in my magic but only Sombra appears slightly startled when it drops. I suppose I shall have to fetch it later.

"May I ask why?"

"I was never taught how... I mean, I was able to teach myself how to read, but-"

"Pardon my interruption, but you taught yourself how to read?"

"Sort of... it's complicated. I didn't understand how to read at first, you know s-since I'm-"

"Sombra, I know that you are a demon."

"I hate saying it though," he growled, although not at me before quickly changing the topic to what it had been, "As I was saying, I don't know how to write and can barely hold a pen right."

"There does not seem to be a problem with your magic."

"Well, part of it is my magic. What little writing I can do, I have to do with a pen in my mouth. I used to have a spell that would allow me to copy letters to make them look like they were written by me, and arrange them on paper but it was very tedious. All I could do was short diary entries at most. It was the one spell I lost upon fitting myself back together and believe me, it can be very inconvenient if I ever wanted to write something that isn't just my name, and in runes no less. I can't even write it in the alphabet you use. Just a few runes and it looks absolutely awful. Anything I write, I usually write with my mouth."

"I could teach you."

Sombra snorts, "Yeah right, now how's that supposed to work?"

"Is cooperation that difficult of a concept for you?"

"Maybe it is."

That poses to be both difficult and understandable, since I am certainly a mare that works well on my own. "It shows, but despite that I will gladly spend a few hours teaching you how to write if that is what you want."

"What about the Sky Scraper?"

"It can wait, bobbing in the air for a while is not going to hurt it."

His brow furrows, "But isn't that more important than me not being able to write my name? The purple one tried miserably to get me to hold a pencil correctly, so why is it that you think this will work?"

"She thought you could not hold a pen, correct?" Is it so much that I just wish for him not to be miserable until I can work out a spell of my own to safely get rid of his seasickness?

"Yes."

"She did not know that you could not write. Are we not going to agree that there is a difference between the two?"

"I-I..." Sombra starts to twist one of the corners of his cloak within his magic before dropping it entirely, still looking quite shocked.

"Sombra? Is something wrong?"

"No, I just... I like your way of thinking."
> Chapter 5: Letters to the Crystal Empire
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------



Uncle Sombra,

I'm deeply troubled by the letter you just sent which began with a brief explanation of how you learned to write thanks to Auntie Luna's help. Truthfully, I think she helped you too much since the letter that has prompted me to write what you are now reading started with an entire paragraph of clumsy script explaining ten different ways you will kill me and Shining from the airship you're on if I were to disclose anything about what's happening to Auntie Celestia.

You were really mean super generous with your descriptions, too. I never knew there were so many ways for a teleportation spell to end so badly. Just thinking about it kept me up at night But I guess I should have expected that from you. I'm still worried about the whole not telling Auntie Celestia part. She still thinks that her sister is just going somewhere tranquil to retreat until she's calmed down, since something really big is going on. Instead, you're both hundreds of miles out at sea...

I'd say I've never kept a secret that's so important like this, except that I already have once, and we both know which one it is. I don't want to hurt anypony in this but your concerns are still very valid. Auntie Celestia is calm for now, but this matter... I think it has to do something with her family. When I was younger and Canterlot was still new to me, I asked her if she had any family and, well, it's a long story but when she asked what I meant by a family, I asked her again if she had any parents, or anything... and wow... she just reacted so badly to it and I've never seen her like that before. Or ever, so I never asked again.

That was the one time I never saw her act collected or calm, at least aside from how amazingly emotional she was when Auntie Luna returned. Whatever happened with her family really bothers her, and I just don't want to ask her again, but maybe Auntie Luna would know. Why else would she be doing what she is now? Even I'm not sure what's happening with her, partly because your writing is still hard to read.

My sole problem with not telling Auntie Celestia lies in the fact that I don't want to deceive her. I also can't tell her about what's really happening without having you murder me (I imagine you will) and feeling guilty for betraying you as well as all the turmoil that Auntie Luna would experience. I'm afraid of what kind of fight could break out if I told everypony. The secrets of yours I've kept have never been a problem until now.

Hiding the whereabouts of you two, denying involvement in anything... won't this hurt somepony? I can't see this ending well if I keep this to myself, but it all seems so much worse if I tell Auntie Celestia, or anypony at all.

I'm so afraid of this because... alright, I guess I'll have to make a confession here. Please don't tell anypony. Please.

I'm a good liar. Sort of. It comes with being a good speaker. I can tell lies better than the average pony. I'm not perfect at it, but in the moment I need to I can probably talk my way out of certain situations, but I'll always feel guilty and torn up about it later, and I'll just blurt everything out depending on exactly how guilty I feel. I also just might forget to brush my mane for days, fidget with the lid on those little coffee cups I like, or read the same magazine three times in a row even if I already know the model's mane was dyed because with highlights like that she won't be fooling anypony.

If you want, you can consider this a plea for help before I write to the nearest newspaper column for advice, because I'm almost sure that mare studied under you, 'cause that advice mare sure tells it like it is. Before you go look up old newspapers with your sort-of all-knowing kinda-creepiness and weird magic, I still think you're snarkier than her, in a disturbing, weird way that has had me thinking over a few aspects of my life in a rather unpleasant way on more than one occasion.

So yes, you may be the one on the boat, but S.O.S is only applying to me right now.

Your niece,

Mi Amore Cadenza

P.S. Eating a lot of ice cream does not mean I feel guilty. It's just that mint chocolate chip is my favourite and I feel the need to think about my life choices a bit more.

P.P.S Am I still Best Niece?





...





Don't you think it's a little too soon to be calling me 'uncle'? Anyway, you're still Best Niece if you manage to go through with what I'm about to suggest. First, burn these letters after you get them just to be safe. Now, back in Gildentundra I stated that you owed me for revealing her name to you, and you gave me a gem and thought that was that. It wasn't. You owe me utter silence to Celestia in regards to what is happening here and you don't even have to lie to do it. Do you recall when you asked me if I had a family?  It was during your pathetic attempt to interrogate me. Do you remember how I responded?

'I never met them.'

Since I can't have you guess why this is important, I'll explain this to you. Did I lie? No. Did I tell the truth? Yes. Now that you know more about me, you can see how simple and honest this statement is, yet how oddly phrased this could be considered from another perspective. You could have guessed what I originally meant fairly easily if you were one for thinking outside the box, but that's not the point. The point is that I didn't lie and you don't have to lie in order to mislead or deny somepony the information they want, or to hide something with ease. I've seen this referred to as lying through omission, but it doesn't omit anything or dance around any glaring fact that would make it a lie or even suspicious. It's so simple and honest, and yet so few do it.

In order to exchange letters with you as frequently and easily as possible, I highly suggest sending future exchanges on your end through a pocket dimension of some kind or, if you'd like, I can send you a small part of the ship (a splinter from a table, for example) so you can properly teleport things here. I would suggest the former, since the latter could be a bit risky if whatever object I send gets used for a tracking spell instead, in which case I will promptly end your life whenever I get the chance. Nothing personal.

Your input on what angers Celestia, while unnecessary, was helpful in re-confirming existing suspicions I had. What I'm going to suggest now will be completely optional, since if current events proceed how I anticipate they will, then we'll be fine. I suggest that you try to ensure that Celestia acts as irrational as possible when it comes to how she's interacting with anypony that proves remotely capable of 'helping' her (who might hinder the progress of Luna and myself). I have no particular methods to suggest but small actions of sabotage that are, well, rather gray in nature will work well. Small things nopony would notice. Things nopony can directly blame you for even if they found out it was you, even if you were discovered and you did this right whether you are to blame or not will be dubious.

I'm appalled by your remark that I'm similar to a newspaper though. I'm the original, unaltered, and purest form of absolutely eloquent rhetoric and shameless ego and snark you will ever find. No flimsy paper with cheap ink can compare to this book. If you suggest such a thing again, I'll have you know that I can produce fire hot enough to damage crystals. Just a friendly reminder, I'm sure it's nothing to worry about, aside from you living in an empire built from crystals.

If you decide to betray me I can't say things will turn out well for any of us. Especially you.

I don't plan on telling anypony because I don't really care. That was one of the first things I picked up on was about your abilities and why I bothered to tell you Luna's identity in the first place. What do you think it was out of? Friendship? Do not put faith in others if their silence remains untested, pink princess.

For reasons that shouldn't be too difficult for you to grasp, Luna has no idea I'm writing to you. I hate doing things behind her back like this, but she never directly stated I couldn't establish a connection to somepony outside the ship, and I know I can trust you without having to manipulate you in any way. You're a rather faithful student, aren't you?

I'm still not sure exactly how long it will take for Celestia to figure out that something didn't go as she planned. For a sun goddess, that old harpy isn't very bright, but I'd say it'll take about a month.

While we're on the subject of intelligence, I have to say I'm having less faith in yours. You introduce yourself as 'me Amore Cadenza' despite being able to form relatively coherent sentences on your own. Now you style yourself as 'Me Amore Cadenza' once again, only this time you spell 'Me' as 'Mi'. Were you never taught proper spelling? It's quite clear that when Purple Eyesore's parents went to expose her on the mountainside to spare us all from future strife they just gave up and dropped her down from the summit to see just how stupid it could become.

Were you dropped on your head at least once? I have my doubts but it still remains a possibility. Do you have any existing conditions I should know of? Do you know basic mathematics? What were your marks during the period of your life that consisted of rigorous schooling that fails to teach you a proper grasp of how ironic you can be at times?

The one and only,

Right-Honourable Lord Sombra, Duke of Nowhere and Nothing, God of Something, Extremely Disgruntled Demon and possessor of Delightfully Devilish Charm

P.S. I need something more to style myself as. Are there any other titles that I might have acquired, yet remained unaware of?

P.P.S. Why did you cover your letter in strange wax seals that really aren't wax, but some kind of strange coat of arms that feature things like a pony face that laughs and cries at the same time? Are they really meant to peel of so easily as well?

P.P.P.S WHY IS THERE SO MUCH GLITTER IN THIS ENVELOPE?!





...





Uncle Sombra,

You didn't even write 'Dear Best Niece' and now I'm sad inside. I'll take your advice on the first part where I don't have to lie but the rest is out of the question. As for titles? Well, you don't have any kind of estate and I think screaming your true love's name to defeat a monster counts as being a romantic.

You're a Homeless Romantic, the most noble of all titles, even though I'm not sure if you're an actual romantic at all. Bummer.

I can't say I was ever dropped on the head, but once I broke a wing, and I am allergic to strawberries but not strawberry flavored things (and I don't know why or how that works). I do know basic mathematics and geometry, too. As for grades, I never got anything below a C, except for some stuff that I knew I cited right but no, apparently I had to use a different format for citing all the resources I used in reports.

I'm sure that Celestia will start to notice things after about a month, she says that Luna usually takes a long time to cool down.

The glitter and stickers are because I like glitter and stickers so much that I gave this letter the same treatment. I also think that legwarmers still look nice, but don't tell anypony. Would you ever wear legwarmers? Do you know what they are? I think that the neon ones are to die for and I still have a ton buried in one of the closets here. Again, tell nopony.

Since you are very confused by my name, it looks like I better explain that before you try to. My name, Mi Amore Cadenza, is not Equish or any language that you probably know. My parents aren't from here, and they came overseas to Equestria from Istallia. Both of them were earth ponies who had saved up enough for the huge move. They moved to a little village on the southernmost border of the Everfree Forest far away from the roads that led to distant places like Ponyville and Manehatten. I'm not going to tell you the name of my village, it's not because I don't trust you, it's just that the houses are really flammable.

My parents fit right in with the community. We weren't big enough to have a mayor, so everything was very quiet. There was no weather patrol, so the storms could get pretty crazy. Like the Empire, there really weren't any ponies with horns or wings. None besides me.

One day, when my parents were taking a walk in the woods they heard the sound of a foal crying and went to investigate. Right in the middle of the forest they found the dirtiest looking foal they had seen, a little pegasus that would prove to be pink under all the dirt that had gotten on her. I was really muddy, and the edges of my feathers were burned with what was identified as magic, but nopony knows why. They think whoever left me there had tried to hurt me. Once they had taken me home and cleaned me up, they had to take me to a doctor. Mama went back to the clearing where I was found to try to find any hoofprints, but they only found mine. She found this weird soil though, a clue that never turned up any evidence when we sent it to get analysed. I think its still in a box somewhere at home.

That's how I was found. The doctor said I was about two or three years old and there was never any luck locating a relative or any clue as to where I came from.

But I could cry! I could cry a lot and warble and Mama and Papa thought it sounded like singing so they decided to call me Cadenza, after the Cadence in music. Whenever they talked to me they would call 'mi amore Cadenza' which means 'my love Cadence'. I was very confused and very young so I started parroting the entire thing not knowing that only Cadenza was my name, and the whole thing ended up becoming my name. It became 'Cadence' when I started school, since that was the Equestrian word and I was a little filly who knew to respond to both languages. I couldn't spell my name right, so 'Cadence' became 'Cadance', but everypony just went with it ever since. 

So, Sombra, you tell me, was I dropped on the head as a filly?

Your niece,

Mi Amore Cadenza

P.S. Your writing is kinda bad, though.





...





Yes, there is a probability you were dropped on your head. As for that origin? Clearly the candy maker who created the golem that was you thought you weren't sweet enough. Or up to candy golem standards. I'm not sure, since I don't like candy. It's even more disgusting than normal eating, with everything being purely sweet. I'm sure there's less-than-sweet candies out there, but I don't have the interest to go searching.

I'm disappointed that you couldn't even spell your own name, though. I knew my name the day after I was created.

I think I'm improving my writing, too, but your feedback skills are abysmal. While that's unlikely to get better any time soon, I think Luna's nearly done with that spell to finally get rid of this dreaded seasickness, hence why I wasn't able to write as often as I wanted to.

And 'Homeless Romantic'?

Well... I guess I could work with it. The first part is true... and, well...

My cleverness is starting to rub off on you, isn't it?

I'm not sure how often I'll be writing once I'm not lying about dazed, nauseous, and scribbling anymore.

-Sombra the Homeless Romantic

P.S. It doesn't have that much of a ring to it, so I guess I'll have to keep trying.

P.P.S Since your name is too sappy and I'm better at naming, I'll just be shortening it to M.A.C.

P.P.P.S I've had a revelation, you're Princess Mac not 'M.A.C.'. There's no going back, you're Mac the Pink One, Grudgingly I Admit You're Best Niece. Deal with it.





...





Uncle Sombra,

Aww, Mac is such a cute nickname! I'll take it. Also I can't believe you're a romantic! You're a hopeless romantic! It's soooooo cute! I've made this letter very fitting and covered it with heart stickers too.

Not all of us can know what our names are the day after we're summoned or whatever.

It's not a problem that you won't write nearly as much either, since we both know what you'll be doing.


♪♫♪ Sombra and Luna, sitting in a tree ♪♫♪
♪♫♪ K-I-S-S-I-N-G ♪♫♪


That's what, and we both know it.

Sincerely,

Mac, who ships it even more than Daring Do and Dr. Caballeron in all that terrible fanfiction I used to write.

P.S. Oh look, you've got me humming that under my breath; at least Shining isn't in the room right now.

P.P.S I know I'm a little old for this, but can I please be the flower filly at the wedding?





...





Fratricide is killing your brother.
Patricide is killing your father.
Matricide is killing your mother.
I WONDER WHAT KILLING YOUR NIECE IS?!

-Sombra, who indeed is NOT a hopeless romantic, just very angry.




...





Okay jeez. I'll stop, Mister Romantic.

-Mac





...





OH DEAR GODS WHAT DID YOU DO WITH THAT LAST LETTER? WHAT WERE THOSE HORRIFYING STICKERS WITH LARGE SPARKLY EYES?

I JUST DON'T UNDERSTAND.

THE WORLD IS A RATHER BORING PLACE AND I AM UNABLE TO DIE.

-Sombra

P.S. She finished writing the spell so I don't have to endure this special kind of Tartarus any more.


> Chapter 6: The Definition of Dreams
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Sombra:


Outside of biological need, I never understood why ponies treated the act of sleeping with such reverence that they'd look forward to it. All they do is lie about, comatose for a few hours, while their unimaginative minds often bring forth equally dull hallucinations due to their lack of creativity. I'm told that this is called 'dreaming' and it peppers their language and culture. Though, I know dreaming to be much more like wishing, hoping, and imagining, which one does while they're awake. If ponies really do wish while they are asleep, why do they wait, and lie about so uselessly when they could at least attempt to act upon those wishes and better themselves when they’re still able to control their own bodies?

Do they really go through life with even the simplest of ambitions, hardly worthy of such a descriptive, vibrant word, and simply let them rot and remain only that? Do they never act upon anything or decide to make them something more, and instead lose control of everything?

Why would any creature willingly limit themselves like that? Why don't they even try to be less pathetic, to discover what they are and make themselves something else? Who would want to be just another face, so different on the outside but the exact same underneath their coats and behind their glassy eyes, never attempting anything, achieving anything, only resigned to stumbling through life until they die as they were born: meaningless and unaware.

Usually, I don't even bother to close my eyes since I don't need to sleep anymore, just another bonus of immortality. If I do find that I have fallen asleep, I usually do so in the day when it is most reasonable to do so.

But never before have I ever had a dream when in this state. Or perhaps I have never had any I could remember.

Not until today.



...



If this weren't my own mind I was seeing, I would have been surprised with how lucid everything around me was. The untrimmed grass is just like something I'd see in any forest, although it isn't nearly as overgrown as the Everfree is. Everything is quieter than any waking forest and no light breaks through the leafy canopy for there to be any proper illumination, so the forest is shrouded with a gray cloak of shadows without any hint of whether it is day or night.

Despite there not being any natural lighting I was able to see the green tint of leaves from these deciduous trees and the makings of a path that had been worn into existence by the elements.

Evidently, I had somewhere to be. It's so nice that whatever genius of a mind I'm in wants me to be on time. It also serves as a reminder that I don't have to be awake to be full of myself.

I think I like that.



...



As I passed through the forest, I began to notice just how inanimate it looked and felt. I didn't see a single leaf fall or the grass sway in the breeze. No other creatures called out, but that was to be understood since this was my mind and there wasn't going to be anyone else here.

Or at least there wasn't going to be anypony else here recently. The other set of hoofprints quickly established that.

They weren't a stranger's hoofprints either, but they were made at a time that long preceded my visit here.

I may have never had this kind of a dream before, but I have been in my mind and know it inside and out. For a long time it was all I ever had, that and what knowledge I could gift myself from the world around me.

I've never dreamed while asleep before, but I've had plenty of wishes, daydreams, hopes, and ambitions. It doesn't matter what one wants to call them, I've had hordes of them and being a product of myself alone, I guess you could say that even though I was created like any other demon, I was born inside my dreams. I never had anything but them to myself for what might as well have been an eternity, all of which I remember so very clearly.

As I walk, I do so on top of the tracks that were already made. The tracks of somepony much younger than I... but as different as could be.

And at the sight of them, I know that if I close my eyes, the dark grip of memories can find me.

My jaw clenches slightly and I try to refrain from gritting the spell on my fangs. It's such a nasty habit, after all.

Soon, I have come to a large clearing. Just like the rest of the wood there is no light that finds its way here, but a flicker of magic can change that for me as much more demonic irises appear, only vanishing when I want them to and appearing along with a quick blink.

A layer of fog rests among each tree trunk, stagnant and thick. I cannot see every fine detail of the land around me through the silvery barrier, so I simply walk to where it is weakest in order to investigate better and find that the road forks, but I can only see two of the paths out of what could be at least half a dozen. What an excellent and entertaining use of my time this is proving to be. I wish I could just wake up but, no I had to be a deep sleeper.

The first was a narrow road so littered with small black shards that it would be a crime not to recognize after the incident involving the Crystal Empire. After all, I'm rather connected to the child named after the stones. This path was almost familiar when I looked at it, and came with the distant impression of horrible recollections. A small part of me wondered if I've traveled it before, in some shape or form, but I can't explain why. It was because of this perceived familiarity that I was drawn to investigate it, knowing that there might be a connection between it and myself. Every other part of me bristled with distaste and contempt for this path. I did know it, I had to...

Maybe it could burn...

Towards the left with a decent amount of space between them, there was another path that I was able to see through the fog and this one looked... easy.

I could navigate this even if I gouged out my own eyes, stuffed my ears so I couldn't hear, and maimed one of my legs. There was hardly any challenge to it since there wasn't a single obstruction in sight. Only a glass-clear stream ran calmly beside it. From here the surface looked clearer than any mirror, like it wanted me to be drawn to my appearance forever.

To me... it was a little tempting, but I already knew who I was and didn't care that much about what I looked like since who I am is, and always has been, much more important to me than common narcissism that never extends beyond warped vanity. Am I vain? Of course, but not so pettily. I love myself because of who I am, not because I look nice. Do I look 'nice'? I'm handsome, and in my eyes terribly so, but I can admit outright that I love myself. As handsome as I may be, my confidence is what completes that.

There is somepony who I love more than myself, though. Somepony who I love in all ways. This road is pressing my muzzle to the surface of the water, blind to all but my reflected image so that I could drown from petty stupidity I do not have.

The small sound on my left that has been waiting the whole time finally emerges from the forest, making a lot of noise as it does so, and if that wasn't enough to identify them, the hollow presence was a guarantee.

Dreams like these are such dangerous things, I can feel it. What they show, what they tell, and what is whispered in them can be crucial in driving somepony. Memories tell me that, and they aren't mine.

Sleep can be such a wicked thing.

It can erase borders and fold the distance between myself and him.

I lash out with an arc of flame on my left, no longer unmoving as he thought I had been. For a second there's a scrambling noise and the sound of leaves being stirred before silence once again. For once, my parasite has quieted. 

Even if this is only a brief visit, it is one I despise. Certain aspects of his personality will never be threatening to me simply because of how pathetic they are, like his, ah, what is it called now? 'Edgy'? Yes, that's it: his often overly edgy antics and angst, along with his hyperactivity. Those parts of him aren't anything that intimidates me. But when you've seen him as I have, and what he can and will do, then there is something else there. He has so many layers of poison and worse things that he is quick to push me in. On that part there's so much hatred I'll never be able to fully express for this brat, not when we will never truly stand in the same place. He's grown so little since the spell itself, only his personality has been warped further as he reigned, and right under him is a monster with parts that are beyond any child's antics. 

And he knows this too.

I look at him, more fire ready to burst away from my horn, the green and purple crackling and roaring white and blue around the edges, while every now and then two of the flames will spark and converge with a high pitched shriek.

Behind those brown eyes, tinted red from the Book, is an identical flicker of green and violet. A smile, bright, cheery, and very similar to an illustration I once saw of a storybook cat looking down at a little filly in a frock as a grin makes its way across his face. Only unlike the cat, there's such a brutality to Onyx's grin. Such a gleeful and sadistic little bastard, and I wonder what would happen if he were flesh and blood again, and if I just took this fire to him over and over and over again for everything that he's ever done.

"You're shaking, Sombra."

So I am. 

I know he loves it too, and though the sick feeling wrenching my stomach is familiar, it doesn't hurt any less.

"Is it out of anger or fear?"

'This is a child', so many would say 'a poor child who only got too caught up in magic, you cannot hurt him.'

He is a child; a stupid, awful child. This is a child that I can't unsee with blood on his hooves and face, or feathers caught in his teeth and his only reasoning for such actions being 'for fun' or 'I only ever wanted to hurt it' followed by 'Why'd it die so soon, I was just getting started' even though that never stopped him from inflicting damage after.

This is a child who licked the blood off any metal weapon he used, who thought living things were better when they weren't moving, who only wanted to hurt something and covet anything it owned just because he could.

Here is the child who is remorseless for far worse things.

I will hurt this child just as much as I would hurt anypony else who has done what he has done, because it does not matter their age. 

"You still don't talk much, huh?"

The smile grows bigger. He comes up a little past my chest. "Remember what happened when I found out that you never left a single crystal pony intact after I was done with them..." He trails off before adding, in the slight 'purr' - or at least what ponies call a purr - his voice gets when it speaks of such things: a slight, neat little feminine burble that he acquired from our time together, "...when you were done with them."

He made me do it. Made me. Even if nopony deserves anything, being left in that state, even when they were dead, was wrong and the fire was a mercy.

"Ugh, you were always so quiet unless something was about you..."

Another pause. I feel like I'm going to explode for waiting this long, for holding back, for waiting, for whatever this is called. It's anything but hesitation. This is what magic does to him, it brings out the warped side of him that only acts stable, until you give that side of him a knife, or any kind of weapon. Until he's bored or happy or sad or angry. He always wanted more of this sick and twisted stuff. The kid's practically seduced by it. I can see it in his eyes, even when his 'eyes' were behind mine. I can see all the things he wants to do, all the ways he liked to make me scream, to make me hurt, to make me...

"...or something was happening to you," Onyx finishes with a slight giggle. His voice is vile, light, and...

...I always remember how pleased he was when I was hurt.

The fire's practically wailing. I want it to be him screaming instead.

I don't want to remember it anymore, not in such detail.

"You're just so stupid, Sombra. The quiet ones always are. I was pretty surprised when you actually could talk, you know."

In the first few hours we knew each other, you were so scared. After I was created, I reached up and felt that you had been crying using my eyes. You said the spell hurt before you started speaking in gibberish. I asked you what was wrong. I didn't even know my name yet, or where I was. I couldn't even read but I listened to your frantic explanation. 'The wizard, he hits me', was about all you got out before you, the little voice in my head, started wailing again because you heard he was coming. I did too. I offered to kill him for you, and you agreed on the condition that you could help. I agreed too, and you got to use some of my magic and call out suggestions to me about the course of action. Even when we were fighting, you said that even though you lied 'a lot' you wouldn't hurt me like Starswirl hurt you. You were in awe over me and what I could do.

I repeat the last line aloud and he laughs again. His laughter is still so childish unless you listen closely. Like how I had to. "You really believed me. That's one of the things that made you so fun to hurt, Sombra. You believed me."

I know, I trusted you before I even knew your name, before I even knew my name. I thought that afterwards I could just go be me. It was both of us who finally killed the wizard, and we did it together since we didn't know how to have only one of us in control those first few hours. And even though you were slow, loud, and stupid, it wasn't as bad as how things were going to turn out. I thought you were just scared and annoying, I was somewhat confused and only a few hours new, so I don't think I was thinking straight.

I think I believed you because you were hurt. I didn't say that to him, though.

"So, what have you been up to lately, shadow of mine? I've got no control..." And there was something so obviously resentful with how he said those few words, "...and it's been so boring lately." There is the child again.

I told you he was dead. I checked to show you because I thought it was just you being stupid, but you didn't care. I felt you take control of me, you demented bastard, and take a single spike of the gray crystal and bring it down over and over. I panicked as you said it was something called revenge. I looked in your mind, that wasn't real revenge. I checked, you knew what the word meant, but for a while I let it slide because maybe you needed it but you kept going and going and you started laughing. By the time I was able to get you away there was really only bones left. I began to go in your mind bit by bit.

I look down at Onyx and try not to gulp. To growl. The fire is hotter, but it isn't going to hurt me. I'm straight faced. I can feel that hollow greed in him. I'm angry too, but mostly I'm just confused. He can't do anything and memories just keep playing.

I need to concentrate. That's all. Remember to breathe.

Onyx's mouth turns down in an impatient frown. "Why aren't you ever happy?"

It's like a little thread in my snaps and I'm brought to attention. My jaw clenches again and I emit a small growl. Who cares if he can see my fangs?

"That's what I hate about you, Sombra," he says, adding more quietly, "I hate a lot of things about you."

It's a very mutual feeling, kid.

"You're mopey and stupid. You're so full of yourself and, like, super boring. You used to ask stupid questions like 'Where does snow come from?' even though it's obvious that snow is just what happens when clouds die. You never do anything interesting, you ask why things happen and you think you can order me around. You don't like talking, and you're always serious."

He loses it at the last sentence, and jerks around, I can see whatever splinters of emotions he has in there flickering madly, those empty eyes with only fragments of a pony and that twisted smile. He's so broken, it's why he breaks things. He's empty so he empties others.

And in my case, he tried to.

"Why can't you just do what I want? Why can't I truly hurt you?"

Let me translate: Why can't I predict you and bend your will? Why can't I understand you?

You're an open book, Onyx, and unfortunately I used to be a character in your story.

He's staring at me and trying to look me in the eyes but his gaze is so shifty and he's only half-paying attention.

"I just don't get it! Why can't I ever hurt you like everypony else? Why are you so stupid? I just want to hurt ponies, I swear it's all I ever wanted... well once you taste money and power, that too. You remember me, at least. I guess I made sure of that..."

I don't think he even knows what's going on around him, his voice trails off and his tone is just as 'mopey' as he accused me of being. Onyx has been alone for over a thousand years.

Those brown eyes are looking at me again now, from my red cloak to my magic fire that I'm still ready to use against him.

"So, when do we get another chance?"

A small look of confusion finds its way into my stoic expression.

"I got beat. The stupid pink princess blew me up."

Does he really think...?

"Are you really that stupid, Sombra? I blacked out when fighting Princess Solara Sunbutt and I lost the Empire."

Of course he wouldn't know that happened after. I nod slightly, playing along. The next thing he would have known is the ice-void that he would have awoken to, and as a disembodied entity like I was. From there we separated, although not fully. He must not have been aware of that. During the time we spent there we didn't have any access to each other but I knew he was somewhere, and quickly abandoned him to the cold, dark space we'd both come to know for quite some time.

"But then, I remember... uh... something, yeah, I remember something. Then there was a pink princess and her stupid dragon. It was all really strange having a body again and, like, I only remembered three words... was it a dream?"

I don't speak, silently pleased by whatever nutcase theory he's going to come up with.

"...Is this a dream, Sombra?"

Technically, yes.

"Wait! It's a dream?" He must have seen my expression, because he looks to me so desperately. 

"No! I don't want it to be! I can't have everything be a dream! I don't want to be a stupid voice again; I don't want to wake up and be alone again. There's nopony to hurt if I'm alone!"

He lifts his head and stops pacing absentmindedly before dashing over to my side, almost tripping over himself in the process.

"You!" he barks at me, "You're mine, you have to stay with me because you're mine, right? You're my property, my weapon, and my..." He exhales sharply, quivering with whatever more heinous descriptor died on his tongue. "I won't be alone, right? I'll get to hurt you as much as I want."

I take a few steps away and position myself so I can attack him better. Onyx doesn't pick up the cues.

"If this is a dream of yours, why do we both have physical bodies?"

I've gotten him confused now.

"What do you mean?"

"You were close enough to me that you should have been able to feel body heat. You don't have lucid dreams, Onyx, and you never have. It's plain to see that I'm breathing as well as turning any tables against you."

"...Wait how can you attack me? This is a dream?"

"Sure, sure, I bet it is a dream but that isn't halting my theoretical deconstruction, which should be absolutely impossible if the conventions of your dreams are to be taken into consideration."

"So it isn't a dream?"

If Onyx has no power or control, he's virtually useless, such as right now.

"It is a dream, it just isn't yours."

Onyx blinks quickly, turmoil in his eyes before he starts screaming. "No!" he yells, stomping his hooves, "No! That means that you won! No! That's not fair, you're mine, you can't leave. I don't want to be here, you can't have won."

"Onyx, I won the moment you created me."

Onyx has always been a fast runner, and he quickly gallops over and grabs me by the front of my cloak, dark magic having overtaken his brown eyes. For a minute, I'm too startled to react, memories playing in the back of my mind as a feeling of disgust washes over me from my eyes having to survey this sickening creature.

"I CAN'T LOSE!" The vile colt is screaming at the top of his lungs now and there are some tears in his eyes, but that isn't exactly important since Onyx cries very easily to the point where he's pathetic.

"I don't wanna be alone again, there's nopony to hurt. Only I suffered, and I don't want to suffer, I'm not supposed to suffer anymore. It said 'Everything You Ever Wanted', I swear that's what the book said and it gave me a weapon and power, it gave me magic. I got to make the Empire suffer, I got to make Starswirl suffer, but most of all I got somepony who wasn't a pony at all, someone I couldn't kill but could make them suffer. I got you, I got a little voice in my head that I could do almost anything to and watch how much I hurt it..."

I've never understood how he could say so many things so quickly, my disgust deepens and I feel dread, along with my resurfaced rage.

He still has me by the cloak.

I cloak one of my forehooves in the enchanted dark fire, which is now the color of ice and constantly makes a whistling noise, sparks flying. I use this hoof to slam Onyx into a tree. Since the kid hasn't had his body in over a millennium it means he's not quite a pony, ironically.

So the fire will hurt him even more, and each scream from this one is absolutely glorious and compensates for the energy cost of all this sky-blue and roaring white fire any day.

I don't bother to allow Onyx enough time to start another round of screaming before I overwhelm him with another wave of flame.

And another.

And another.

I don't plan on stopping, even though I could be on the verge of collapsing. There's a whoosh of air and Onyx tries to take out my legs, only to startle me into dishing out another wave of fire right into the face of his current form.

I just wonder if he'll figure out how to regenerate. At first he justed started screaming but I don't even know what sound he's making now. I wouldn't say it's of this world.

By now half of the clearing, with the exception of the two paths are bathed in smoke that has replaced the fog that originally masked anything from my sight.

I start to cough heavily, and I'm not sure how much longer I'll be able to stand. I only see Onyx run down the path with the fragments of onyx stone scattered throughout its extent. He stumbles as he goes, so I don't need to imagine that I've damaged his eyes to some degree.

Where he goes, I don't follow. Those are two paths I will not go down. The last thing I see before I wake up is a vortex of fire as white as snow annihilate a tree.

I wake up on the floor of my designated cabin, the sound of screams and sparks still ringing in my ears and images of leaves draped with veils of ash and shadow on my mind as I contemplate this dream of mine.
> Chapter 7: Outsider's Insight
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Sombra:


There was no way I was going to stay asleep and I think I'll be getting a breath of fresh air now that I won't be leaning over the rail every few seconds. Luna does seem to discard a few traditions and bend a few rules when it comes to spell writing but she's better than good at what she does, and I haven't felt ill at all since she cast the decently complex spell that she wrote over the course of mere days.

Can she get any better?

She did it for me too, even though I've done nothing for it. She barely knows me and is fairly distant, she knows I'm a demon and yet... gods, I love her so much. Perhaps the truly worst part of being sick wasn't not knowing what was happening because Luna - dear, dear Luna - explained what in Tartarus' name was happening without making me feel like I was as stupid as Onyx is, she talked reasonably to me like it was nothing! She's smart, yet a princess. Now that's an oxymoron if there ever was one. If it weren't against my better judgement, I'd have thought that she may have been just slightly sympathetic about what was happening, even if it wasn't directly towards me. I don't know for certain, so it likely was delusional and not worth dwelling on, since I'm probably wrong.. She probably just thought me inconvenient, like how I thought Mac to be at certain times.

But the worst part was knowing that we're on the same ship, so very close, while I'm becoming better acquainted with a bucket and knowing I could barely stare at the page of a book to at least learn more about the contraption I was on. If I weren't so stubborn I would have been somewhat surprised at even being able to write as much as I did to Mac. If I were severely injured, then maybe I'd at least be justified in being unable to do much of anything. Meanwhile my lovely ace of spades took time to teach me to write and develop a spell to help me even though she's not even on good terms with me.

I close the cabin door with a sigh. I can't even look her in the eyes without remembering the crystal hall and wanting history to repeat, which of course, would only be uncomfortable and cruel to her. I just want to get to know her some more, if she'll let me. Then maybe, I just might tell her. Or maybe I won't have to, she's awfully clever and might figure it out on her own. Still, she's a rather delicate soul at times, even for having such fire in her eyes and if there's anything I don't want to do, it's scare or hurt her.

I'd at least like to see if she'll talk to me of her own accord since she is quiet.

'I suppose I'm just lucky you're not the talkative sort.'

The recollection of Luna's words stings somewhat.

"Yeah, like that," I mutter with an abrupt stomp of my front right forehoof. The sole of the boot quickly retracts with the activation added from the aura that lingers on my horn for only a moment. Then, the bands begin to collapse into themselves until I'm only left with a plain silver-colored metal ring that stops below my knee, where the boot would end if it weren't in its current state. I repeat this process until all of them have retracted. I'd rather not repeat what happened the first time I came down here, when part of one of my boots got caught on the stair and I stumbled and skidded about, all because the ship had tilted and I hadn't realized the floor of the interior and the deck where made of different materials.



...



On the deck, under an infinite canvas of stars, Luna sits at the wheel, which glows with a coat of faint turquoise aura. Her own dark coat blends in with the dark world around her, and I can only see the outline of her mane from here. Since I stand behind her so far, all I am able to see is the outline of her wings under the cloak she chooses to wear upon occasion. The moon, which is masked by clouds, cannot properly light the mare who wields its power.

She's humming something softly under her breath, and I prick my ears forward to listen. There are no words to her tune, nor does it feel like there were ever any. It's soft, but flowing, alive, and intriguing. I can't say I've ever heard humming sound enchanting. I can see her silhouette slouch ever so slightly with the faintest hint of fatigue.

I can feel her magic too, as I can all other creatures. It hasn't changed at all, but I can see it differently, since I notice other things about it now compared to when we met before. The more you know about somepony's magic, the more you can know about them, and vice versa.

Unlike her sister's, it's not crippled or caged, but I can sense a few darker parts that I won't look into, even though I can't use my senses alone to analyze them all. Her magic isn't overwhelming or sickening to be around. It's very quiet, until you know what you're looking for, then it's magnetic and unable to be ignored. There's an undeniable roaring fierceness to it as well. That won't become prominent, not unless I trigger something which would bring about that part of her. Her magic is such a strange thing and is utterly enrapturing. Even if I didn't feel this way about her, there isn't a doubt in my mind that I wouldn't be drawn to her for some reason or another by magic alone. Despite the colossal power I know stems from her, it doesn't feel controlling or forced, especially since she's so relaxed right now. Instead, it feels much more like water, natural and flowing, but it still leaves traces of where it has been.

There's a rebellion to this water as well, a fire that lies below. And why wouldn't there be? I know that this mare is anything but just another radiator of magic. The fire and water can switch their places so easily if they need to, but she doesn't burn out. It can feel calming just to be around her, like this. I could stand here for hours without getting bored.

The biggest difference from before is how much more alluring I find her.

"Luna?" I call out, voice low.

The mare disguised by shadows turns around, and for a split second all I'm able to see are two turquoise eyes looking straight at me. These eyes with feline irises, the mirror of how they appear at day, these are the eyes that I saw in the castle staring at me with their wondrous clever solutions and caused her such misery when she met the Tribesponies and Onyx. They disappear quickly with a flash of her horn, or at least they close and I see nothing but her outline being swallowed by the way she flips her cloak.

From there, the next thing I know is a bolt of white hot magic crackles at my throat and Luna is inches from my face. The secret to the reversal of the nature of her eyes is revealed: blue cosmetics on each eyelid, although I doubt they are of the ordinary variety.

Her movement was remarkably swift, just what I'd expect from one of her skill, only I didn't expect it to happen now, and am relieved that she can't hear my heart pounding.

A second later, my throat is free of her magic, and she's much more composed with her mouth turned downward slightly in a thoughtful expression that could be considered cool or pleasantly stoic if it weren't for those eyes, filled with so much curiosity, wonder, and mystery.

"It is only you, Sombra," she says with the barest traces of a smile, although it's likely not for me.

...I rather wish it was, and maybe it will be, in time.

With a tilt of her head, one that's just as feline as her eyes had been, her mane cascades like a waterfall of stars over one whither where it continues to ripple. "Are you well?"

"I am; your spell was well-made."

Her head remains in that slight tilt and her brow furrows slightly. Her sister has to try to meet ponies standard of beauty... but by my standards, her quick mind, all her eccentricities, the way she fights, the sound of her voice, it's effortless for Luna. "Sombra, I meant the look in your eyes, are you alright?"

"Yes, I am," I offer, this time much more sternly and recomposing myself as naturally as possible. If she notices, she doesn't say a word.

"Is something wrong? Perhaps that is why you are out here."

"No, I woke up, Luna."

"At midnight?"

My gaze flicks up to the sky. "So it is; it appears I'm two hours late, then."

"You are nocturnal," she states.

"Primarily. It's been like that most of my life, since sleep is complicated for me. I still tend to find myself up at night."

This time I can say that small smile I see, with its traces of what could become much more playful, is meant for me.  "Is that why you are out here?"

She's sharp and when she smiles...

...Her smiles are going to be worth centuries.

"Partly. There was something I wanted to tell you." Something I've literally been waiting centuries to say.

The playful smile is gone and now Luna looks slightly apprehensive. "What is it, Sombra?"

"I'm sorry."

"What do you mean?"

"I hurt you."

Luna no longer tilts her head, but the way she looks at me right now shows just how confused she is as she's trying to figure out what's happening. "Sombra, what are you talking about?"

"Back in the Crystal Empire, I harmed you. I burned you, near mutilated your wings, and was even on the verge of hitting you at one point. I apologize for that, even though I'm not sure if an apology alone will suffice."

Confusion is now surprise as I await what she has to say on the matter, she certainly hadn't expected that of all things, and definitely not from me.

"I'm really sorry about that," I add quickly, "I'm a lot of things, but I'm not a liar. Out of everything I've ever done, this is the only thing I've ever really felt so much regret for. I know that everything that happened in the Crystal Empire was wrong, and I can admit that, but there will be no apologies... this is different. I have regretted hurting you in ways I regret little else. Princess, I'm entirely sincere in this, and of course you're unlikely to trust me-"

"Pardon my interruption, Sombra, but is this the first time you've apologized for anything?"

"Yes, I don't apologize sarcastically that often."

"Well then, I have made up my mind. Even though I hardly blame you for fighting for your own life, as I would have done the same in your place, I will still forgive you on one condition."

"The condition being...?"

"I told you my name that same day we met as hesitant enemies. I do not think you have forgotten it, and would prefer if you were to call me Luna as I call you Sombra."

"Alright then," I add, swallowing slightly. I can't believe she forgave me. It feels so surreal.

"Alright then, Luna," she teases and I think I glimpse her poking out her tongue just a bit, and at me, no less.

She's sweet, and I don't particularly like sweet, but I do like her

"I'm also sorry for anything Onyx did to you, or ever said that hurt you."

Luna blinks in surprise, but I'm the one that's taken aback when I hear what she has to say.

"Do not be."

The cold sternness of it is what really gets me, and Luna's more observant side kicks in and she notices my reaction. "Do not apologize, Sombra."

"But-"

"But nothing, you have no need to apologize for anything you did not do yourself."

I... does she realize what she just said? Surely Luna knows how much that means to me, those words that I never expected to hear, even as a lie, taunt, or an insult. These are words that I never expected to even be associated with me... and she just said them.

All my life I've been accused of all sorts of things. Some are far-fetched like eating foals, others far more twisted than even I would like to think about, but lies nonetheless. Mostly, I've been blamed for all the things Onyx has done and expected to apologize for those, living my life as a sniveling, humbled, example, no doubt before my head is lopped off. I'm supposed to apologize for being 'born', for existing. Most of the world is so desperate to get me to hate myself and blame me for things I've never done, all to try and prove I'm the mindless monster that can have every crime pinned on them, dragging them down while mindless ponies keep up their cycles, muttering about good and evil.

I've only ever been blamed, defamed, and accused. Sometimes I am guilty, but it's complicated and often twisted out of proportion, making me guilty of everything I've never actually done.

The look on my face tells her everything she needs to know. She grabs one of my forehooves in hers and points back towards the wheel with the other. "We cannot keep stopping like this forever, and we can talk from there. Sitting down should do you some good too, as you look very faint."

I let her drag me over, sill in silent awe of Luna being Luna and doing what none would ever think or say.



...



"Do you know why we are going to Aquastria, Sombra?"

"Yes, don't you remember telling me?" I respond while looking out at the night sky that the Sky Scraper drifts through. Sitting next to me, with considerable distance between us, is Luna, whose magic grasps the wheel once again.

"Maybe I should have said 'Do you understand what is happening on a grander scale?' Does that make more sense?"

I nod, and try to spot any familiar stars through the clouds, but so far I'm not having much luck. "I do, but doesn't that grander scale include us?"

"It does, but would you care to tell me what you know so we might be on the same page?"

"We're going to find Alicorns. Gods, like you and your sister, as well as your cousin."

Luna cast me a suspicious glance, but only briefly. "I suppose that is the briefest way to put it. I wish to find out the fate of my family, specifically my parents. Mine and Celestia's... she... she gave up a long time ago. On them."

"I want to know what happened to the Alicorns," I say even though I probably know more about what happened than she does.

Luna is quiet for a moment. "Do you know what it is like to have somepony you care dearly about just leave with the promise of coming back? They never even told us where they were going, they just said they would be back soon, and that they loved us. They told us not to leave the forest, and to stay in the castle."

"I can't say I know what that's like, Luna."

"How about somepony you care about then? Is there anypony like that?"

"Yes."

"Now imagine if you were separated from them for as long as I have been. You know not if they are even well, if they will remember you, if you were to find them, only that you miss them desperately."

"I think I can understand that." More than you might realize, I add silently, without looking at her.

"I was only four when it happened. I can remember everything that happened after so lucidly, as I though I were still there. Celestia has long since ignored that day, but I can remember each detail because everything just felt so wrong. I remember where each strand of my sister's mane was when she tucked me in and told me to stop worrying and... oh, I am sorry," Luna adds suddenly, "You must hate my rambling."

"I don't mind."

Luna looks straight at me, disbelief in her eyes. "R-Really... are you sure you are not just saying that?"

"Truly."

"Would you mind if I asked you something?"

Automatically, I scowled at the question. "I might."

She turns away and makes it perfectly clear that she's actually going to take a cue from what I've said.

"Luna."

She doesn't respond.

"Luna."

Her ears prick this time around, but it might be involuntary. "What?"

"Shoot."

"What is your story?"

"Huh?"

"Where did you come from? How did you end up in the Crystal Empire? That is all I wanted to ask."

I sit a little straighter. "So you want to know what Onyx-?"

"No, no, no, that is not what I asked at all! I want to know about, you, Sombra. Things you have seen and things you have felt. What happened to you before you ended up in the Empire? I care nothing for Onyx or what he has felt, but I want to hear you talk about you."

I look at her incredulously. "You want to hear me talk about myself?" I echo.

There she goes with that smile again, although this time it is almost reassuring and is followed by a tiny nod.

With a heavy sigh, I grudgingly tell her about the portion of my life up until Onyx kills Opal Charm. I leave out only the Book, including the version that exists within my own mind, and the incident involving my left eye. Because I don't want to disgust her or myself, I also omit the gory details of Onyx's diet during this time, and how it was imposed on me.

I can't say I've ever had anypony listen to me like she is right now. Part of me is confused to why she would care at all. Why would I mean anything to her? Despite her nature, I'm sure that she really just thinks of me as an acquaintance of some kind.

But she's listening to every word I say like it's the last thing she ever expects to hear. She's being kind to me and I'm not sure how to describe what it feels like, especially since I'm busy telling her what she asked. I've never told anypony these things before, or even thought about doing so. There had never been anypony I'd trust to understand any of this before, too. I would never tell anypony other than her this, but that doesn't change that she has no reason that I can think of to treat me like this.

When I finish I make a small gamble and look to see what Luna's expression is. She's not quite biting her lip, like there's something she wants to say and it almost looks like she's getting teary eyed, but over what? There's nothing to cry over, it's just me, and why is that sob worthy? It isn't. I'm not.

Empathy.

The little word pops into my head. Of course it's something I know, mostly because it is something I've been falsely accused of not having, along with a whole host of other character traits.

She isn't pitying me, for some reason she actually seems to care. About me. Not what I went through, or how awful it must of been, but me.

Luna rubs her teary eyes with a hoof and smudges the makeup she wears a bit before letting out something in-between a sob and a choked, bitter laugh that I would have expected somepony like myself to make if I laughed more.

"You were created at fourteen years old?"

"Yes."

"That must have been awful."

"In what way?"

She made that laugh again, but it wasn't a mocking laugh so I wasn't worried. "At fourteen years old, I was a mess. Celestia was too, but it was worse for me since I had to grow up there in that damned tower-prison..." Luna trails off at the end and taps my wither with a forehoof. "Were you like that?"

"Yeah, I was a wreck in one way or another," I admit with a snort.

"What was that like?"

"Being a wreck? I'll have you know that Onyx was so much worse."

"No," Luna begins, balancing a forehoof on one of the wheel's spokes, "What was it like to look at other ponies and know how differently they originated from you? That they never started out being aware of themselves or possess the mental skills you never needed to develop, only refine?"

Anypony else would ask what it's like not being born, or how strange they find it if they were to know. To them, I'd be something to gawk at and it would only further add to my guilt, in their blinded eyes that not having a family made me turn out wrong, even though I've turned out better than they have, and it shows. Nopony has considered another perspective, asked the right questions, or done something different, all of which are extremely typical pony behaviors.

Not until her.

"It wasn't jarring at first, and certainly took some time to figure out. Soon, I started noticing that the more time ponies spend around these families, the less they think, or at least that's how it is often how it goes. They never develop themselves, and just grow up and older. Oftentimes, they are without any curiosity or intelligence, and just make more of themselves like parasites with holes where an individual could have grown. It doesn't matter if the coats are different, or the marks, or the voice seems so. Almost every single pony like this is just a repeat of what came before them with only a barely altered set of conventions to live by. History holds this as a silent truth, but I'm certain that you would have seen this over the course of time much more clearly: generations are sown only to produce... severely underwhelming results under the guise of progress. I've hardly found any individuals in this mess of a hivemind."

Luna gives me the gesture to go on.

"At first, I thought maybe they just needed some help, but all it takes is one look through a few generations of your Equestrian history. You'll see that this curse is embraced. Few ponies ever do anything, try anything, or are anything but another face for me to ignore. I haven't observed this outside of ponies, since I'm such a curiosity to other species and finding large populations of non-ponies without distant travel is difficult. Is it any wonder I hate them, your ponies? Ponies have done nothing but divide themselves among absolutes, unify themselves to the point of monotony, and glorify every lie they were told, as if they were actually capable of anything other than the pointless cycle most have got themselves caught in."

"Do you think I am like that as well?"

"No, Luna, I said ponies."

"Am I not a pony?"

"Luna, you're an Alicorn, those are about as far from ponies as you can get." And all the ancient records I've read made it clear that Alicorns of old were largely enlightened, whether I agree with them or not, and encouraged many things Equestria does not look highly upon.

She looks at me, nothing but confusion in her eyes. "What ever do you mean?"

"Ponies and Alicorns are both equines, of course, but they aren't the same thing. I'm certainly not the same as a pony or an Alicorn, am I? Fritters and pies are both baked edible objects with apples, but they aren't the same thing, now are they?"

"It is not that I do not want to know this," Luna says, "but perhaps you could tell me this another time? You have already given me a lot to think about."

"Gladly," I reply before tilting back my head just enough to see the stars. Out of the corner of my right eye, I see Luna stretch one of her wings before it disappears back under the folds of her cloak. Suddenly, the black fabric dissolved into a flock of bats that got me to jump a bit as they noisily flew into the distance. Well, all but one. The straggler seems to be dazed by the cacophony made by the others. Luna giggles slightly and gives it a gentle push into her night sky with her forehoof.

If that bat isn't just an illusion spell, which it probably isn't since it was able to function independently from the others, then it would be a very low form of oh, most likely an animate spell and a construct. So, pseudo-life which certainly isn't approved, easy, or advocated magic in any way. It was part of magic life, as I am. To some degree, however slight it is, those bats were like me.

And she smiled like that was nothing.
















"I'm Nobody! Who are you?
Are you - Nobody - too?
Then there's a pair of us!
Dont tell! they'd advertise - you know!

How dreary - to be - Somebody!
How public - like a Frog -
To tell one's name - the livelong June -
To an admiring Bog!" --Emily Dickinson



> Chapter 8: Blood and Fire
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Luna:


"Sombra," I repeated a second time. I was waiting for the demon stallion to put down the book he was so absorbed. He stood on deck beside me, the levitating ship's manual hiding his face.

His lack of any response earned a roll of my eyes, not that he would have seen it. I was trying to show him the ropes of the Sky Scraper, quite literally, but apparently him saying that he would multi-task simply devolved into Sombra's hyper immersion with the latest book he's taken from the library.

In order to get his attention this time, I do not call out his name knowing that his mind is elsewhere.

"Two plus two is seven."

The book is lowered so Sombra can properly glare at me with more fury than Celestia's sun burning in his eyes.

"What did you just say?"

"So, I have your attention now?"

Sombra promptly closed the book, and unlike his unamused expression, it did not vanish with a spell. "I suppose you do, go on with your explanation of how the ship stays afloat."

I cock my head to the side as he says this. "So you were paying attention?"

"I said I was going to. There were no questions I had to ask since your explanations were solid, and it helped having a book in front of me."

"Oh... I did not realize that, Sombra. Go back to multitasking if you wish."

Never once did Sombra resume his reading as he silently listened to all I had to say, eyes of flame-red following every gesture, flickering back and forth with each wave of my hoof or turn I made when moving to a different location.

Although he spoke no words, Sombra remained very animate in the subtlest of ways. Whether Sombra intended this or not, I don't know. He was easy for me to read, a spark in his eyes and a slight twitch spoke volumes and compared to the signs of other ponies. I learned much more about what he thought and how he interacted via this effortless communication. All movements like this were complex, I could always pin down the exact meaning of a smile and everything behind it even if the owner did not wish to be deciphered.

Now that we had begun to adjust to each other, even if the adjustment was gradual, we learned about what the other felt without too much effort. Reading things like this had always been almost automatic for me, and Sombra isn't one who is a stranger to being observant. This is how I noticed the two strangest things about Sombra.

The first was that without bothering to know him, one would easily assume that he's nothing but a liar even though he has done so such thing so far. He doesn't even bother to conceal what he generally feels, most likely because there are so few ponies that would pick up on such a trait. The second is much more elusive. The way he moves, slight disturbances in the way he carries himself, I've noticed them where others must have ignored these since he is remarkably good at hiding whatever it is that ails him. It is only notable when I look closely at the way he turns his head or flicks his left ear far more than his right. How he never faces certain directions or walks odd around certain obstacles like he wasn't sure they were there.

I think Sombra has some kind of visual problem, but I can't be too sure yet.



...



"Sombra how do you find the wheel?" I call upon exiting the navigator's office where I had been double-checking a map. Last night I had shown Sombra around the ship and tonight he was grudgingly trying out steering the Sky Scraper.

Well, it isn't night yet, I think with a smile as I pause to raise the moon, my magic reaching out below the horizon to prod the celestial body for its evening trip into the sky so the stars might be seen.

Once this is done, I go over to Sombra's right side to see how he's doing since he didn't answer my question. His expression is one of concentration, but also touched with confusion since his muzzle is scrunched up a bit and the twitch under his left eye appears to be acting up.

"It's not something I'm used to," Sombra mutters once he sees me.

"Is it not within your skill set?"

"I can't say it is."

"I-I am sorry, I forgot to inquire what your skills were, and-"

"Luna, you don't need to apologize for this; all I've got to really do is watch out for stray weather, correct?"

"I could always get wild weather for you, if you wish." As I say this, a stray cloud on this clear night nudges the side of the port side ship. It isn't anything dangerous but I wonder why Sombra chose to run into it instead of turning, since that particular kind of cloud doesn't dissolve so easily as most of the stuff the Sky Scraper encounters.

"Do you not think the Right-Honourable Lord Sombra can manage a few insolent clouds?" When Sombra receives a small giggle as my response, he pulls his sword out of his scabbard, and jumps up, brandishing the blade. I am able to see the silver and red before the ship lurches and halts upon hitting a rather dense rain cloud and the sound of the wild rain can be heard emptying into the ocean far below. Sombra sheathes the sword before I'm able to get a better look at it and blinks in confusion.

"What was that?" he asks, before rushing to the port side even though he should have seen that unruly cloud before I did. I follow him over to the side and look at the cloud.

"A cloud, and not just that, but a cloud you should have seen!" If I weren't distracted by whatever dramatic speech he was going to start then I would have seen it as well.

"What do you mean? I'm looking at it right now!"

"You should have seen it before that! Sombra, you were the one steering! You would have seen it first, the ship is designed to allow that and it was so obviously to your left side that you would have seen it, I saw you looking at it!"

"Luna, it was a cloud-"

"It was a cloud this time!"

"I understand, but I don't see why you had to interrupt me to say that!"

"This is the only ship we have Sombra, and I would greatly appreciate it if you did not trash it for the sake of a convenient journey."

"Well, why'd you let me steer this thing in the first place?"

"To see if you could. I did not know you would be so careless. This can be fixed with magic, but I would like to avoid doing so for every little dent that could be avoided."

"Alright, Luna, I understand that but I probably shouldn't be the one to steer."

"No kidding, you are practically blind!"

Sombra's coat suddenly looked about eight shades lighter, his mouth hung open and those crimson eyes stared at me, utterly shocked by what I had said and even fearful.

"Sombra...?"

There was that twitch in his left eye again, I always thought it was a habit, simply a nervous tic but now...

"Nopony was supposed to know," he whispered, but it wasn't directed at me.

"Sombra, what was nopony supposed to know? I cannot help you if you do not tell me what is wrong." I've really gone and upset him, haven't I? Oh Luna, why do you have to be so brash at times like this?

"It can't be healed. It can't, it can't, it can't!"

He moves to storm away, he's clearly on the verge of a breakdown of some magnitude. I grab one of his forehooves and roughly try to pull him back where I might be able to calm him down, because I have no idea what he's going to do and it sounds like he's hurt. Sombra screams in the panic, no doubt since I'm much stronger than he is, not that he is weak in anyway.

"Sombra, it is okay, nothing is going to hurt you, please just tell me what is wrong."

"Let go!" he screams; there's a fiery, unhinged look in his eyes. "Let me go, or gods know I'll make you!"

At the second part, I let him go, knowing that it wouldn't have helped either of us, and watch him stumble a bit, rubbing what must be a bruised foreleg under that partially crushed metal boot before I heard the sound of the navigator's office door slamming.

I really  screwed things up this time. Picking on Sombra, what new low can I sink to? I kick myself with a foreleg at how stupid and rude I was but all I get is a bruise and the honor of feeling worse than before.



...



My hoof hovered over Cabin A's door, reluctant to make any move at all, even though I had acted so poorly and did feel sorry, so an apology would be necessary for the latter alone and it was better to apologize sooner than later. He probably hates me anyway, but at least he'll know I'm sorry and I won't feel nearly as guilty.

I knocked anyway, even though Sombra can sense magic and would already know I'm here. Then, I waited for a response.

"Go away, Luna."

My favorite response. "Sombra, I need to talk to you."

"Too bad."

"It was not a question."

"You're not coming in here."

"Stars forbid I know any teleportation, Sombra. The mighty door shall surely hold back this goddess!"

"Quit stealing my job and go away."

"I just want to talk to you."

"Well, I don't."

"Alright. You do need your space." I turn to talk away, wondering when it will be best to try to talk to him, since I'll have to do so at some point.

"Wait!" comes his voice from behind the door, "Why are you just leaving?"

I pause in the hall, empty except for me. "You said you did not want to talk now, I did upset you greatly and understand if you hate me because of this. I also respect your wish not to be disturbed, although I hope we can resolve this at some other point because I do not think you are a bad demon at all, Sombra, and thus far enjoyed spending time with you."

Down the hall, and behind the door, there was a very loud sigh. "I prefer to be labeled a pony, and umm, thank you for doing what nopony has ever done. I've never been considered like that before."

"I will just be going then..."

"An hour," he blurted from behind the simple barrier.

"Pardon?"

"You can come back in an hour. I won't be nearly as frustrated then."



...



One hour later Sombra stood in the doorway of his cabin with an expression that looked like one who has spent too much time around particularly pesky foals, but due to recent events it was clear he went through a minor panic attack as well. He wouldn't meet my gaze, but I could see it in his eyes and how he held himself.

"Sombra, I am incredibly sorry-"

"Can we do this inside the cabin instead of standing out here in the hall like this?"

I nodded in agreement since it certainly felt a bit awkward out here in the hallway. Soon, I'm seated at the desk in his cabin and he insists on flopping onto the bed for our discussion.

"As I was saying: Sombra, I am sorry for upsetting you and continuing to overreact over the cloud incident."

He isn't saying anything.

"I made my point, but I did so poorly and it was all my fault..."

"You didn't know."

"But I am not blameless, Sombra!" I say, bringing a hoof down on the desk, or I would have if Sombra hadn't gotten up and caught my forehoof in his magic so I didn't blindly break the cabin's furniture.

"While that's true, you should never blame yourself for something you were only part of and become something that went beyond your control. Blaming yourself for everything isn't realistic or accurate, Luna."

If you only knew how much I did just that...

"Are you really...?" I was going to say 'blind' but my voice just dropped into silence at the last part.

Sombra put my hoof down. "Am I what, Luna?"

"Can you not see out of one of your eyes?"

"I can see better than most ponies," Sombra said, his tone was that of somepony who was on edge and it was my question that made him respond like this. If he were to use that impersonal tone any more it would feel like he was drifting away.

"You can," I add, my voice low. Sombra is very observant. I'll never forget how it felt when he was the one pony who noticed how miserable I was so many years ago. It made me so nervous, so thankful, so confused, and even angry since he had mocked me in our fight, he who knew more about a single pony at a glance than some could know in a lifetime, assuming they didn't just ignore what they saw as so many must have done.

"I'm not blind," he says, voice hard and cold, "I'm not."

What comes to mind I know I probably shouldn't say, but I have to if I'm to get anywhere with him.

"Only physically, Sombra," I say, my voice a whisper.

He's just standing in front of the chair where I sit now, bristling with hostility. "Didn't you hear me? I said I wasn't-"

Sombra is stopped in me finishing that statement when I sit up and stand in front of him and place on hoof on his wither. "Cover your left eye, please," I ask, keeping my voice soft.

He clearly knows something of what I'm doing and places a forehoof over his left eye. When that's done, I conjure a small green cube, its grassy color is the only distinct feature to the small, plain toy.

"What color is this?"

"Green."

"What is it?"

"A green cube, Luna."

"We are going to do the same thing with the other eye, I listened to you once Sombra, so now you are going to listen to me. I know what I am doing."

Even though Sombra looks like he's going to object he reluctantly complies with all the pitiful awkwardness of somepony who has been hit. His right eye is covered with his hoof and I conjure another small toy, this time a yellow sphere.

"What color is it?" I ask Sombra kindly. I really don't think he denies being blind because he truly believes he can see out of that eye, but because he believes he'll be treated like he's worth even less or harmed for it. I may not have heard the words come out of his mouth but he clearly associates being blind, physically, with being ignorant, which he is not. All I need to do is get him to accept that those aren't true, and that the former does not indicate the latter. Sombra simply needs to admit this to himself without being afraid.

Meanwhile, Sombra bites his lip. "...Blue?" he guesses, voice cracking slightly.

As with before, I do nothing to indicate whether he is correct or not.

"What is it I hold?" I ask, bobbing the toy a bit.

Another bite of his lip, although this time the spell over his fangs, which I presume are his natural teeth, is wearing off and one of his eyeteeth pierces his lip and draws a bit of blood.

"Sombra?"

"Just give me more time," he blurts.

"Very well, then."

For five solid minutes Sombra doesn't say anything. Or do anything.

"I-I..."

"Yes, Sombra?"

"I-I-I... I am not quite... Okay, so... I may or may not... Luna, I'm unable to see whatever it is that you're holding."

"Can you make out anything? A blur of color, an outline?"

"N-No. There's nothing," he says, removing his hoof just as the conjured toy disappears in a flash of turquoise.

He almost walks away, but I won't let him get away that easily and drag him back over with the hoof I had placed on his wither. I didn't even allow him a chance to speak before I used my free hoof to gently push his bangs aside.

"Luna, stop, I-"

"Both of your eyes still react to the light and adjust well."

"Yes, but Luna you're awfully close to me..."

I lean closer to get a better look at his eyes. "That I am. I have been closer to you before and you did not complain then, now did you?"

Sombra swallows and I think I see him blush slightly, no doubt because I embarrassed him by bringing up the one simple trick that twisted his words against him and allowed my sister and I to defeat him. I hope he's still as excellent a fighter as he was then, because this time around I'd actually like to compliment him on his fantastic skill.

"You have very interesting eyes, you know."

Sombra flinches a bit. "Yeah, I know nopony has eyes the color of blood. How very interesting indeed," he concludes bitterly.

"They look like fire."

Sombra blinks, his eyes flickering with confusion. "I've never been told that before. It's always been just 'crimson' or 'blood colored'."

"Well, I think they look like fire and find them to be quite beautiful. Now would you mind telling me what happened to the left one?"

Sombra tells a short tale about a fight with a few windigos before Onyx and him reached the Empire, in the time they traveled the Arctic alone in his youth. One of the mighty beasts shot its ice at them, and injured Sombra's eye, for Onyx was not skilled enough to dodge. Since they... well, primarily Sombra, for he was the only one who bothered to care for the injured eye, didn't have the proper resources to take proper care of it, the eye became infected. This led to Sombra one day discovering the eye no longer worked and how he had to craft a spell that would deceive Onyx into thinking otherwise when the brat was in control, for Sombra's body was incapable of being healed by his own magic. However, half of Sombra's world has always been darkness.

As he concludes his tale, Sombra appears to be somewhat relaxed, which is certainly unusual for him.

"Sombra, do you realize that I would be able to heal that?"

He stares at me, utterly speechless.

"What you told me indicates that this mostly stems from the nerve being disabled by the windigo's attack and an old wound. It might take a few tries but I would be able to heal that for you, so you could see again. Your eye is completely intact, still responds to the light, and is otherwise unharmed."

"It won't work."

"Just let me try," I say, taking my forehoof away and letting his mane fall back in place.

"Fine. Go ahead and try, but don't be sad when it isn't working. I don't need you to mourn something doomed from the start."

I do not respond to his last remark and close my eyes as magic engulfs my horn. Using the precise paths of the magic that now coursed through the area around and including Sombra's left eye - which now glowed a faint turquoise as well, though I needn't open my eyes to see that - I was able to construct a map of what was wrong. Tia may prefer to heal things with flashes of light and make things as easy as blinking, but I have always been much more intrigued and thorough when it comes to healing, always searching for the problem instead of proposing only a quick and temporary solution. This includes starting from within and working outward.

Healing things my way was something that was hardly ever done except by the most dedicated professionals. But even they were confined to what textbooks taught them, lacking the dreamer's innovation combined with logic that helped me see each individual and master what they considered to be top tier techniques like it was nothing, and advancing to a level where I stood unrivaled. My sister, of course was a master healer in her own right but our methods different in almost every way. Even if we found ourselves in similarly unchallenged status, it had been always been I who had the magical talent and greater power of the two of us.

What I did right now was like being presented with a puzzle of a great many 'strings' that all tied together to form a properly functioning eye. Strings could vary from pony to pony and creature to creature, and what I saw now was Sombra's pattern of strings and nopony else's. Certain 'knots' made specific things work and had to be 'tied' in certain ways for that to happen. As the healer, it was my job not only to tie these knots but to mend each string and reinforce it if I need to.

Through this turquoise colored web that I had projected into my mind I could see the frayed, but not severed, threads that I was to work with and moved to repair them with a bright flash of aura falling forth like a stage curtain once I was done.

I opened my eyes and looked at Sombra, who stared at me with unreadable apathy.

"Did it work?"

He waves a hoof in front of his left eye after he had blinked it a few times. "Nope. Still darkness. Nice try, but no sticker."

"Then I shall try again, for I am greatly intrigued by what stickers you are giving out."

The process is done once more, although not before Sombra asks if we can give up. I refuse to, and this time I notice that one of the 'threads' remained frayed. I should probably have reinforced each one of them as well, which I do before opening my eyes.

"Sombra, did it work this time?" I inquire, looking at the forehoof he holds across both eyes with an annoyed frown.

"I'm telling you it's not going to work. Blindness can't be healed so after this can we just forget about this and stop wasting time?"

"Pull your hoof away first, and I will have you know that while not all things can be healed, this most certainly is not one of those cases."

He gives an impatient sigh before dramatically pulling his hoof away and shooting me an acid smile that's obviously just sarcastic and very, very fake.

"Let's see if what you did-"

He blinks and yelps, looking about madly and blinking rapidly before his focus shifts back to me.

"-even works..." He finally manages, trailing off and staring at me with awe and something else that I couldn't place even after the time I spent around him.
> Chapter 9: Stairs to the Bottom of the World
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Luna:


Sister would probably start searching my usual retreats soon now that I had been absent for weeks without uttering a single farewell or offering a hint of my whereabouts to anypony. She would search through all of Canterlot, the entire Everfree, and perhaps a few other locations I have been known to frequent before realizing I'm in none of the familiar spots. It'll take her a while to realize I'm actually gone, yet she'll have no idea where I vanished to or how - as I intended, unfortunately at the cost of my sister's distress.

Most certainly, she'll have no idea when I left, which would throw off any kind of investigation she would wish to conduct for quite some time - yet another thing in my favor.

By land or by sea, Tia? Which route did I choose? Might it be the sky? You do not know there are already hundreds of leagues between you and I.

Sombra and I are mere hours away from the gateway to Aquastria, and my hooves are gripping the wheel with excitement. I do not have a rigid plan to how this will go, which is preferable since some flexibility must be considered with how the emotions of myself, Sombra, and Neptune could prove to be quite stormy in contrast to the clear weather Sombra and I have been experiencing on our journey so far.

"Sombra," I call, voice only slightly louder than the breeze that stirs through the sky alongside the clouds that drift slowly by, like the waves of a different kind of ocean.

I turn around to see Sombra in his usual spot - at least when he's on deck - leaning or sitting right next to the office, typically absorbed in some volume or leafing through an atlas. Today he was doing neither of those things, as my brief glance in his direction confirmed. Instead, Sombra was fiddling around with a telescope, which he had said not long before in on one of the rare occasions when he'd talk since I fixed his eye, was his first time ever being able to use such an instrument, or even trying to. He had only observed the night sky with the naked eye before.

Despite his relatively grumpy demeanor he seemed to show some enjoyment towards his latest hobby, excitedly scribbling out some figures on the loose papers lying beside him. And was that even the slightest trace of a smirky smile on his face? I think it was, and even though I hate to tear him away from his newfound activity, I think he'll enjoy insulting my cousin even more, so I call his name again.

He looks up with one forehoof held aloft to shield his eye from a glaring beam of moonlight that bounces off a porthole window. Sombra refused to be in the sunlight even more when it seared his newly healed eye two days ago and he spent half an hour denouncing Celestia's sun while covering his left eye with his hoof and screaming obsolete curses in the most entertaining way possible. He was also tactful enough to hurl his curses at her sun instead of directly at her - something I would not permit. "What is it, Luna?"

"We will be nearing the way into Aquastria soon."

"How soon?"

"Fifteen minutes, I think. If you value what you are recording I'd put it somewhere where it won't get lost because I'm not sure how smoothly this is going to go."

Sombra's smirk widened. "I'd, won't, and I'm'? You're really starting to trust me aren't you?"

"I guess I am," I say, giving Sombra a small smile only to see his gaze drift to the side and his expression change to appear more melancholy than usual.

"Nopony has ever trusted you have they?"

"Not like you do."

Oh... that's certainly... well...  "I-I see."

"They just want me to live up to the image they've created," he said bitterly, looking only at the objects before him as they disappeared within a flash of crimson, "I'm their monster, you know."

"You aren't a monster."

"Being a demon certainly isn't any better."

"But a demon isn't who you are, Sombra. It's only what you are."

"Yes, it's what I am, but it's also what everypony never forgets."

"That's a lie," I say, having long since turned back to the wheel to keep a careful eye on the water below. Sombra had joined me, knowing that I was on the lookout for something.

"Oh really? Well, I'd love to know how you can say that, princess," he spat, saying 'princess' with nearly as much venom as he said my name ages ago.

"I forget that you're a demon every time I talk to you, Sombra. So, everypony does not view you like that. Do you know why I forget? It's because I don't care that you are what you are. I'm only reminded when you remind yourself, even then I hardly see the demonic figure you're made out to be - the one you know and I can guess only so much about. You're a very confident individual, but I don't think you'd being saying any of this..."

Sombra's looking straight at me, no longer looking at the water's dark and liquid surface far below even though his horn is lit to do so. "You don't think I'd do what...?" Sombra says, his tone matching the nervous sparks that had appeared in his eyes, flickering desperately though I believe they'd much rather be extinguished.

"...I do not think you would be saying any of this if you didn't believe some of it yourself," I finish as cautiously and honestly as possible.

"We'll talk about this later," Sombra says slowly, "but what would you say I am? Just out of curiosity."

"An enigma," I say giving Sombra one last smile as small as the little sparks that linger in his eyes but just as meaningful.



...



A few hours later, just as Tia's dawn breaks in far-away Canterlot and I have lowered the moon, Sombra and I find exactly what we are looking for. Since I have an idea of what we had been searching for, I was the first to spot our destination and pointed excitedly with my hoof, eagerly waving Sombra over to the starboard side so he might see as well.

"We're here!" I announce, when I see him squint down at the water's surface, shining white sunlight dappled across its fluid surface as the shadow of the Sky Scraper grew larger on the surface as I lowered the airship with my magic, cloaking the whole vessel in turquoise. 

Unlike most ships with a similar appearance and construction, the Sky Scraper did not posses the air within the blimp that most airships had, so it was hardly an average ship. Instead, magic was within a fraction of Equestia's military ships. It held enchanted air so long journeys such as the one Sombra and I had embarked on. This air could be manipulated by a skilled mage to lower or raise the ship quickly, if needed, but was able to avoid most tracking spells due to other spells wrought into it, although I imagine Sombra could detect the Sky Scraper fairly well.

"I don't see anything, Luna, and the sun's coming up and I'd rather not stay around to have my eye assaulted by its brightness. Damned gassy fireball."

"You could just allow your eye to adjust to the sunlight."

"I could just become an alicorn princess too."

I snort at the thought and move my hoof so it points to exactly what I'm seeing. "Look over there, Princess Sombra, just follow where my hoof points. Do you see what I'm pointing at?"

He does as I suggest and soon he points with his own forehoof and looks back to me for confirmation. "That part of the ocean isn't moving at all. It's eerily still and I think I can feel a bit of magic that isn't ours or the ship's. I take it this is where we must go?"

I nod, levitating the ship closer. Part of me remains calm, at least for now,  despite the adventure that lies ahead, which the other part of me is eagerly awaiting. There are sure to be challenges ahead that entail something that isn't as easy as levitating an airship.

"So, how were you able to find this place?" Sombra asks, hooves gripping the guardrail but with the wariness of somepony who has spent their whole life on land, even though I can still see traces of calculated, analytical wonder flickering steadily in his eyes. It's a wonder I live for.

"I will be sure to tell you later; I want to get into Aquastria smoothly since I'm not sure if..." I trail off once I see him nod curtly before jumping overboard and disappearing with a brief burst of magic.

It doesn't take long for me to follow, soaring after him, the Sky Scraper anchored within reach of the gate with a quick spell, gradually descending to the ocean's surface like a water-bound boat.



...



It was no surprise that Sombra hadn't noticed the difference between the surface of the gate at first and the water surrounding it. The difference was a subtle one, only the hexagon of glass-like unmoving water that took up a space big enough for eight ponies to stand across in all ways could distinguish it from all else, calm or stormy.

I land with the natural grace that has only been perfected through years as an adventurer and warrior just as Sombra reappears only a few paces away. He nods upon seeing me.

"How does this work? I can't exactly say that I've encountered one of these before and the magic certainly feels..." Sombra pauses, and his left eye twitches slightly with concentration, "...confusing, if that makes any sense. Were there some kind of two-way wards on this so even I could barely detect their presence?"

"Yes, and that would be just how Neptune likes the spell: as difficult as he is. In order to activate this I'm going to need you to be closer to me."

Sombra's head whips around. "I'm sorry, what?!"

"I just need you to stand next to me, you'll be able to see why shortly."

Sombra looks up at the sky for the briefest moment, either at the Sky Scraper or the dawning day, I'm not sure, before he walks over to where I am and stands within three large steps of me, metal boots soundless on the water quieted and altered by magic.

Whereas he looked up, I look down at gate, recalling a crystal-clear image in my mind of what it looked like when activated and how much space will be left.

"Sombra, you need to be closer."

"Can't I just-?"

"No, Sombra, believe me, but you cannot remain where you are and I haven't the faintest idea to why you're practically flushing about this, it's not like I am going to attack you or something of that vein. You'll be just fine."

I didn't let him get another word in before I abruptly pulled him closer with my wing until there wasn't even room for a scrap of paper to be between our withers and lit my horn with the magic required to gain access to my cousin's realm. The surface glowed with the color of my aura for a moment. I knew to let go as soon as I heard the previously still water rumble faintly. 

Next to me, Sombra squirmed slightly. I know he's a recluse who probably isn't used to ponies making too much contact with him, if any at all, but I still see no reason for him to be blushing like he is. Hopefully, he doesn't realize that I can see it quite plainly or he'll make Cadance's vibrant coat look dull by comparison.

While I didn't wish to make him uncomfortable, there were far more important matters at hoof and he certainly doesn't seem to be uncomfortable enough to panic or push me away.

The rumbles subsided soon after and the once glassy surface now quavers with the sound of cracking now following. Geometric fractures spread across the surface in an almost spiral like shape as the perfectly carved seams were undone by my magic. The portion of the gate that moved collapsed downward with a rush of roaring water that shaped themselves as enchantments dictated, leaving an outer half to this spiral where Sombra and I stood on an edge that was barely big enough for two ponies.

"...So, that's why you wanted me to..."

I ignored Sombra, but not out of rudeness, and stepped forward, ready to descend into Aquastria at last when Sombra's grumbling caught my attention.

"Stairs? This grand gate forms a staircase that goes down to the bottom of the ocean? I may not be an expert on this subject but isn't that going to take a while? And stairs! It just had to be stairs! Can't anypony just work a teleportation spell into-"

"In her exploration of the castle during her search for the Crystal Heart, Twilight Sparkle reported finding at least two staircases that could be considered long by one who didn't grow up around such things. Yet, it seems that you made at least one of the staircases yourself. Is that not true?"

"It is true. I made one staircase in a lesser pocket dimension I infused into the floor because I knew the stairs could be hazardous in the right conditions and would be an absolute pain to anyone who saw them and thought 'Really, I have to walk down all of these?!'. The entire structure was made to help worsen anxiety in the common pony, and increase the chance for simple accidents. Did you honestly think I liked stairs?"


...


Sombra could certainly be very expressive when presented with something he had never seen before. As we went down stair after stair of water frozen by magic I noticed something. Sombra took more interest in the world around him, which was separated only by a wall of flowing water that was held back only as long as we were using the gate in any way, whether it was docking the Sky Scraper above or if I were to try and stick my muzzle through the watery wall with a temporary wide-eyed state of curiosity that Sombra currently had as he did so.

A moment later he yelped and pulled his muzzle away from the water, clearly not very fond of water and not entirely aware of the trance-like state he had been in before he decides to catch up with me.

"What got you so excited that you nearly choked on salt water?"

Sombra spits out some of said water and his muzzle crinkles with disgust. "I thought I saw something out there."

"Like what?"

"A creature. Are there any kind of creatures that could live in this foul-tasting water?"

"Certain kinds, yes."

"That sounds fascinating! How are they adapted for this kind of environment? What do they breathe? What do they eat? Can they sleep? Oh, what about-"

"Sombra, calm down. The deeper we go, the more sea life you will see but right now we should probably be focused, or at least I should be focused on Neptune. I just have no idea what he'll say about this... something stuffy probably... but still I'm just not sure how this will go and-"

Sombra is able to tear his gaze away from the water to look at me as my words begin to falter.

Oh, Luna you hypocrite now look who needs to calm down and now he's looking at you strange and is probably going to tell you the same thing...

"I wouldn't worry so much about managing your cousin."

"Sombra," I cautioned, "I know that you are very confident-"

"Confident?" he says with a snort, "That word barely describes the sheer arrogance I radiate most of the time. Just call me arrogant, really, it is the more accurate term."

"You would not take offense to me saying such a thing?"

"It's only the truth, and it's a truth I'm quite aware of. What is really so wrong about being arrogant?"

If only others would listen to him - he speaks honestly and well.

"Alright then. I know that you are egotistical, but you also know so little of my cousin. I've trusted your judgment thus far, but what makes you think this will be easy?"

"I like to manipulate and exploit ponies I don't have any substantial consideration for."

"Isn't that almost everypony?"

"Indeed it is."

This made me slightly nervous since while I trusted Sombra, I was still unsure of what he thought of me. I doubt it was anything good. He acted sincerely friendly, in his own way, and honest at times. Still, there could be a whole host of ulterior motives that I'd hate to be true since he's been such a pleasure to get to know, even if he doesn't feel any strong friendship or anything at all, I'm thrilled this is more than a business agreement. Sombra would be the first real equine friend I've had since I was a young filly and Celestia's mane was still pink as we traveled across the world.

Twilight's friends are nice, but not that close or much more beyond that. 

I can talk to Twilight every now and then, I suppose, but there's nothing she would understand. We don't have much in common, I barely see her, and she's... not very fun to talk to. She's Tia's pupil with all the feel of a distant relative or a cousin, and it shows. While she's friendly, Twilight isn't sompeony I would want to spend hours and hours around like her friends do with her. She's still an incredibly naive child in certain ways, and while she is in no way haughty or arrogant, Twilight Sparkle is certainly quite privileged. There are also times when her modesty levels are positively unbearable.

There wasn't anypony in Canterlot I'd say that I wanted to go out of my way to spend time around without destroying the fragile feeling of peace that I have when I'm alone. I loathe to be sad and alone, but that hasn't happened nearly as much as Celestia thinks. I'm not compelled to make any friends.

Or, I wasn't until I brought Sombra along. I think I would quite like him to be a friend. Sometimes we talked for hours on the Sky Scraper, like when he told me about the first year of his life, and other times we'll happily say nothing at all.

Maybe I'll work up the courage to ask him if he wants to be my friend.



...



After a stretch of peaceful silence, we have barely progressed what must be a quarter of the stairs' length when Sombra manages stop being so fixated on the distant shadows of fish mingled with faint shafts of sister's sunlight in the azure water.

"Roughly how much longer until I'm able to observe the creatures that live within this water better?"

"Hours, probably. Sorry if I'm not sure about the exact time, Sombra. I'm not even sure if this will be a city of his I've been to before. This floats above the city he currently resides in, for emergencies only, as Neptune says although it isn't like this has been ignored before and this definitely qualifies as an emergency."

Sombra no longer concentrates on the ocean around him at all. I can see his reflection from where I walk and the thoughtful look he always has somewhere in his eyes burns brightly, overtaking anything else. 

"If Neptune changes cities so often and this gate follows the city, then how was it so easy to find? The ocean is incredibly vast if the scales on all the maps on the ship are accurate. and you could have been searching for much longer."

Explaining to Sombra that Aquastria occupied a massive underwater valley wasn't that hard. He seemed to grasp the concept of the ocean having terrain that varied under all this water quickly, but I think it might have been something on my part that made explaining how some concepts that are considered to be the most basic to all creatures cause an air of lingering confusion to emerge in his eyes as he nodded here and there. I couldn't explain something I learned so young in a rather un-scientific way to this logical mind without messing something up. I can't say I'd do the best job were I to try.

The discussion of Alicorn magic that followed was much better understood by him. Once I was able to explain that tidal movements were influenced by the moon I controlled, there was a whole host of interesting questions that he saw fit to ask.

"So, you tracked this gate with your moon's connection to the waves?"

"Partly. Since I have enough knowledge of the territory here as well as what to look for, I didn't have that much to worry about, but my tracking spell helped."

"Wouldn't you have to have a direct connection for the spell to work, since it involves using the natural properties of a celestial body for your own gain, while being able to directly wield this magic without there being any interference to your own ability or amplification of your own natural power required?"

I'm quite impressed with the conversations I've been able to hold with Sombra. While he certainly was never close to stupid, it appears that he is often treated like he is by others. Not even I expected him to be as smart as he is. I may not be as analytical as he, but I'm certain he can find a way to understand the more qualitative observations I give with that sharp mind of his. Together we make quite the union of intellectual strength.

"I do have a direct connection to the moon, and my sister does have one to the sun. Think of the magic we use to raise and lower the sun and moon like chains. Only we have the magic to execute this properly, and while I could technically raise the sun if I wanted to, I do not have the perfect magic for the job and this is why the night of Celestia's thousand year reign was sub-par to say the least."

"Couldn't Celestia try to track you with the moon? Is that possible?"

"No to both. These 'chains' are only for Celestia and myself... I'm not quite sure how to explain this to you... I could raise and lower the sun, but nothing else of the powers that come with the bond this chain forges are available to me, and the same goes for my sister. If this was something that could happen I would have left my sister to raise the moon instead of risking my magic making contact with it so recently."

"How did these 'chains', as you call them, form?"

"At first it was just the perfect kind of magic - mine - lashing out at the right moment to the correct object - the moon - and gaining my cutie mark through the efforts and self-actualization needed to do so. You might say that it started out as a poor rope, but the longer I controlled the moon the more I was able to forge something better in a way none would ever be able to do, link by link, and that has allowed me to access a range of abilities within myself using the 'chain' I have with the moon."

"So the moon and sun... the longer you exist, the more of your birthright of power, I suppose we can call it, you realize. That means that one day the moon and sun wouldn't be quite so grand and... gods... the longer you live the more powerful you get, correct?"

"True, but my sister and I could not obtain infinite power. No Alicorn or immortal could, but one day it is true that the sun and moon will be but mere playthings compared to what Celestia and I will wield. Even you should notice your power start to increase over the years."

"Will it be anything like yours?"

"Comparable enough, I'd say based on what I have witnessed you do with my eyes alone."

"And yet apparently we can't even conquer long staircases all that well so far, huh?"

My hooves cease their movement across the stairs of water and behind me I catch a glimpse of Sombra, who still isn't used to having two eyes to see, almost walk into me, before the reflection I watch realizes what he is doing and he stops as well, the question of 'why' now in his eyes.

Turquoise light shimmers into existence, causing all sorts of strange movements and enchanting reflections on the artificial and smooth walls of our ocean spire. A thin, gossamer-like thread of light weaves its way into the stairs, snaking down before vanishing. My horn still glows. A few minuets pass.

Then ten.

My horn's aura flashes and disappears, and I blink upon receiving the information I sent the thread of light to retrieve.

"Walking will take too long, Sombra." 

"Then what are we supposed to do? Can you teleport us down to the exit or have you never been here before?"

"I have not, but I have an idea," I say, not able to resist a small grin as I switch from standing still to flying right next to Sombra on the dreadfully long staircase.

Another spell is cast by me, and before Sombra even knows what's happening, the stairs are non-existent, a flat surface replacing them.

He doesn't even have a chance to say anything coherent before the possible downside to those lovely metal boots of his is revealed, and I give him a shove.

"I'll race you!" I shout, flying after him as fast as I can, my laughter a sharp contrast to his confused screams.
> Chapter 10: Letters to Canterlot
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------



Dearest Twilight,

I write to you with terrible news that has left me on the verge of panic. Luna, my dearest sister, has vanished. I haven't seen her since the events at the Pantheon one month ago. The events there had been very dire indeed and I believe that they caused her emotional distress, since there were many bad memories that would have been brought up. I thought she excused herself from the anxiety she must have felt and taken a quiet retreat somewhere to clear her mind.

Shockingly, this does not appear to be so. I have allowed my sister a month to herself to go wherever she needs to to feel better again and then return. Luna is not to be found in any of her usual spots in Canterlot and I know she is unlikely to be in the Everfree Forest because of what seeing that wreckage must do to her.

No other locations within fifty miles of Canterlot have turned up any information, Discord was able to find out nothing. We cannot locate her because there is no way to teleport to wherever she may be unless that location is known, visible, has the coordinates given to us, or  has been visited by either Discord or myself. Such is the folly of teleportation.

Please try to keep what is discussed in these letter from reaching the public. There cannot be any panic over Luna's sudden disappearance. She must have just gone farther away than I expected and a larger amount of territory just needs to be search. The moon is still raised and lowered each night so she is safe, that much is clear, yet none of this is what really worries me.

Luna is a very brash and troubled young mare and I dread to know what she could do to herself after she told me of the horrid thing that borders too close to magic life for my taste: the Tantabus. What she did with this puppet-entity is much worse.

Twilight, Luna is an extremely unstable pony and with some of the topics discussed at the Pantheon she is bound to be worse off than before. I had debated even allowing her there in the first place as well as leaving her to have alone. She won't be thinking clearly and is most likely alone somewhere and very distraught and until more information is found there is nothing I can do to locate her and return her safely to Canterlot. 

She's too isolated for her own good and has no knowledge of how to cope with the grief she must be going through. Luna needs to be more open to socialization. Since she's returned there has been little effort to make any friends like you have and I do not believe she can remain alone like this for much longer. It isn't healthy. She isn't healthy and I should never have let her have so much time to herself when she should have been taking a cue from you and following your example and talking to ponies as much as possible. They can help her heal and there's dozens of ponies out there that could be friends with her. I trust my sister in many things, but not when it comes to her mental health. At least, not any more.

She hasn't had a single friend like you do. We were alone for a long time in our foalhood which led to her feeling like close contacts weren't necessary and she never befriended anypony and constantly told herself that she didn't want to. I'm afraid she even believes this to be true when she's bound to be a horribly lonely, yet still remains adamant in not talking to others.

While our youth did not allow much room for her to have friends, there is no longer an excuse for her to have none now. I'm not a substitute for a friend, I'm her family and if I had been less passive about her making friends she wouldn't be where she is now.

All her life, Luna has not had a single friend or even a close acquaintance to share her time with. Hardly anypony knows anything outside about her outside of you, Discord, Cadance, and myself.

She lacks the hallmarks of a healthy life: no friends, little close contacts outside of family, and little social experience in almost every field that isn't anything tied to being a princess, such as diplomacy.

I would like your voice on this matter, and your insight as the Princess of Friendship would be invaluable in finding my sister and helping her recover.

Sincerely,

H.R.H. Princess Celestia





...





Dear Princess Celestia,

I nearly choked on my morning pancakes when reading this. Luna's gone?! While I don't doubt you, I would like to inquire if you've truly searched everywhere. Bringing Discord into this was a really good idea though. I'm sure he'll be able to find out something - even if it isn't what we're looking for, we both know that Discord will find something.

I'll start searching through recent papers and any travel records I can first before I consider checking any local areas because those will be the easiest to look around.

It's still so hard to believe anypony would vanish like that without telling anypony, but I believe that what you say of Luna is true: nothing you described there is healthy. She might turn out like Moondancer was going to if I hadn't helped out. We made up and became great friends. I even saw her in Canterlot this weekend for a studying party and it was great fun, but that's off topic. 

Luna must have serious problems if she's never had a single friend and is depressed as she is. After the Tantabus incident I looked into anything I could about depression since there wasn't a doubt in my mind that Luna had it. It's so sad, and even a bit scary to look at what I read and know that some ponies are like this. I always knew it was true but I never knew anypony that was so depressed they'd hurt themselves like Luna does. I didn't know anypony who was depressed until I met Moondancer and Starlight Glimmer.

You wrote that Luna hasn't had any hallmarks of youth. I don't know how old she is, but I'd guess around seventeen or twenty, maybe? Somewhere like that. I have t ask, has Luna ever had a special somepony? I don't see anything here that mentions that, and I still remember the date that you helped get Luna on board with to help cheer me up after that really silly fight that Rarity and I had. Luna was so quiet throughout the entire thing. I couldn't tell if she was happy or not and then she just snapped and ran away. Was there something behind it?

Sincerely,

Twilight Sparkle

P.S. Rarity and I made up, at long last. Again! I'm so happy!





...





Dearest Twilight,

Has Luna ever had a special somepony? No, she never has. You know that I've had special someponies in my past, but Luna never has. When she was a teenager Starswirl hardly ever took us on trips out of the valley. 

I guessed that Luna wasn't telling me something early on, even in that awful period of my life when I hardly paid her any heed. She never liked to go to court for any occasion. She grew her mane, which I had always cut short, to a length that was only considered long for a stallion and dressed androgynously and took on the role of a warrior in a way that earned her more than a few stares.

Even when we overthrew the tyrant, King Sombra and were forced to banish Discord she never talked about being interested in any stallion. She never even looked at any. No secret paramour, no lover under the balcony. Nothing. She was always alone, in every way possible. She had nopony to listen to her like you and I have. No friends, no anypony. I feel so horrible for not noticing before. Ponies like her were never hated in the Tribal Era, but they weren't regarded with the same kindness ponies are treated with now. They couldn't have legitimate  heirs, which is what everypony wanted back then, so they were shunned to some degree. 

When I took the Equestrian throne, I wanted to change that and I worked hard to so ponies like Luna could be themselves without fear or hate. They were very backwards times, Twilight, as I'm sure you've learned in your research.

It breaks my heart now to know how Luna must have felt with nopony to support her. She hardly ever talked to anypony then, even me. When we became princesses, she tried to talk again, only to stop talking all together after a while, especially about romance. She never once in her life talked about romance. When we were little fillies, before the prejudiced era of the tribes, Luna dodged the question of what, as a very naive me had put it, 'her prince' would be like. Even now she doesn't answer whatever questions I try to ask in the most delicate and underhoofed ways. Does she still think the world is like how it was then? Everywhere she goes there are signs of it being otherwise, which only makes me worry more about her.

I wish that is not so. I just wish she'd open up to those that care about her. Equestria was founded on principles of friendship, which ponies like you, Cadance, and myself work to spread above all else. But she has no friends and I fret over how empty her life must feel with only herself. How is my sister to spread friendship, which is a branch on the tree of Equestrian beliefs, if she remains like this? Ponies that are like this... nothing good can come of them. None of their decisions are socially optimal. None of them are correct.

Sincerely,

H.R.H. Princess Celestia





...





Dear Princess Celestia,

That really must have been so awful for her! No wonder she's so withdrawn - she's just afraid to love anypony! I can't imagine what it must have been like for Rarity and I if we were ever in a place like that. I'm not like Luna, but it still would have been hard to know that ponies would shun me just for loving Rarity.

Oh, did I forget to mention that Rarity and I are back together again? We really need to stop having such meaningless fights. We aren't a silly couple from one of my mom's over-the-top and cheesy romance novels that she kept packed away in the attic where she thought that I wouldn't be able to detect the Old Book Smell.

Okay, maybe we are like that, but just a little.

I've looked over a ton of records, but haven't been able to find anything that looks like Luna leaving or arriving anywhere. I'm going to go look around the local areas now, with Rarity. We think the castle in the Everfree Forest would be the best place to look. She has these cute little helmets for gem hunting too that we'll both be wearing as we look around.

Sincerely,

Twilight Sparkle





...





Princess, you didn't tell me that there's another set of ruins beneath the Castle of the Two Sisters...

Princess, you didn't tell me that this castle was destroyed...

Princess, you didn't explain that there used to be so much...so much of everything else, a world with more gods like yourself and Luna... she wasn't there...

Why didn't you tell me this?! Who are they?! Is this real? Where'd they all go? Is this related to what's been happening? How do you hide something like this for that long?

I don't understand! Why weren't you and Luna on there? Where did you come from?

This isn't making any sense! Rarity nearly had a heart attack when she saw this! Where did Luna go?!

-Twilight Sparkle





...





Dear Twilight,

Luna is searching for the ponies that she believes are her parents. Her family. They aren't her family, I'm her family. That must be what she's doing.

But when did she leave? Where is she going?

We weren't born yet, thus Luna and I aren't there.

Check all the travel records again, if you please. I'm sorry to hear about what almost happened to Rarity. Is she feeling any better?

You don't want to understand, Twilight Sparkle.

None of us do. None except her.

Sincerely, 

Celestia





...





THAT'S NOT AN ANSWER! ARE YOU TWO EVEN SISTERS?!

-TS





...





FINE. I'M CHECKING THE RECORDS. I'M CHECKING EVERYTHING.

I CAN'T SLEEP.

I DON'T UNDERSTAND.

I'M SCARED.

-TS





...





THERE'S NOTHING OKAY?

STILL NOTHING.

RARITY KEEPS SAYING THAT. I KEEP LOOKING.

THERE'S GOT TO BE SOMETHING.

SPIKE'S WORRIED AND I'M SO FRUSTRATED.

I DON'T KNOW WHY I YELLED AT RAINBOW BUT I DID.

-TS





...





i finally got some sleep.

i stopped hearing the ringing in my ears:

ring ring ring ring

i'm going to look again.

and again.

it's okay.

there's something.

-ts





...





what are you hiding?

-ts





...





why won't you respond?

what's all this about any more?

-ts





...





Princess.

I quit. I quit looking.

There's nothing.

-Twilight Sparkle





...





Celestia,

One of your airships is missing. There's nothing in the records that mention it being taken by anypony or where. I was passing through to say that there's no sign of her in Vanhoover, but I did locate a nice bakery. The donuts are certainly something word worthy. Afraid I didn't bring any back though. Oops.

Was the Sky Scraper given any missions lately?

-D





...





Dearest Twilight,

I'm sorry for causing you such distress, Luna's instability and now her disappearing... these are hard topics for me because this is the pony that matters the most to me and now she's gone. Again. I don't want this to be happening again, but it is. I can't deny it because Luna isn't here, and that's left such a hole, re-opening the wound from the first time.

I don't know why I didn't respond, this past week I've been so busy. Whether she likes it or not, Luna is a vital part of Canterlot. Of Equestria.

Discord wrote to me of a missing airship, but I don't believe it's connected to Luna since she is able to go where she wishes, unburdened with common transportation. I'm afraid few would believe Luna if she told them her plans, and if they did I have faith in my ponies that they would recognize her distress and send word to me. She is traveling alone, but where to? I haven't the faintest idea where she might go. Perhaps to investigate some old ruins or to some distant and closed nation. 

I'll have messengers readied right away and a investigation pending for the airship. I think it will be a good experience for some recruits to get experience in searches by trying to recover this stolen property. It'll be as easy as checking names of a list since it was most likely some noble's fresh-out-of-college youth showing off to their friends or somepony with military connections attempting to 'borrow' what belongs to the Crown.

I just want Luna back, no matter what it takes, and when I do get her back she must cast off this irrational grief and make some friends. She will be opening up to ponies after she is pulled from this awful solitary trip of hers.

Sincerely,

H.R.H. Princess Celestia


> Chapter 11: Three Word Repeat
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Sombra:


I think it would be best if I tried not to breathe for quite a while. After Luna pushed me down the gate to this strange realm, I was left gasping for breath at the door that separated us from where I am now.

Luna was required to cast a spell on me so I'd be able to travel through Aquastria without imploding and would still be able to breathe. I tried to tell her she didn't have to worry about the latter, since I've always wanted to have an excuse to see if a demon like myself really needs to breathe air like a pony does. It certainly sounded much better in my head. This earned me a strange look and a remark from Luna, who then told me how much it would hurt to even attempt something like that. 

If only she knew exactly how much it had hurt to wear a crown for eight years. Had the crown she had worn before she met her own prison, which was surely colder than my own, burdened her nearly as much as it had me?

Since she knew far more about Aquastria than I did, Luna was the obvious choice to navigate whatever we were to encounter in this world below.

It was something I never could have expected, even though I had to glimpse all through an enchanted pocket of air that kept me dry and able to view such a spectacle. I could feel each step I took on the sea-ground beneath me, slick with the water that would overtake its surface once again, as it rippled above and around me. The sheer claustrophobia caused me to shiver and left me with the desire to be anywhere but here. It wasn't a pleasant feeling, to say the least, since I constantly felt as if I had to make myself smaller inside the already cramped pocket. I found myself longing to just fold up and disappear from this allotted space that had me constantly holding my breath, knowing that the world itself was my veil, and what felt like a fragile one at that.

Luna, on the other hoof, needed no adjustment to these conditions, or any bubble to save her from undersea pressures. Her deep indigo coat stood out against the deeper blue and gray gradient  that might as well have all but dissolved if it weren't for the black of my mane, gleam of my boots as well as Fate's hilt, and the fire-

Red. My eyes are red. Crimson, maybe. Perhaps they do burn, but I can't say that they're what she sees. Just because she saw past everything once does not mean I can expect her to do so constantly.

I honestly liked being cloaked by the rippling stripes of light and shadow that came from the swaying waves. All around us were brightly colored stones and tall, waving ferns. The only true light came from the turquoise sheen of Luna's magic and the flashes of wonder in her eyes as they flicked to follow darting shapes, the barely-gray shadows and indistinguishable forms muted on the horizon. My eyes warily followed the same shapes, and I trailed a few steps behind the goddess, running my tongue over the spell upon my fangs, a calculating to habit to make sure it was still intact.

I had yet to figure out what these creatures that flew through the water, with sharp, smooth and near soundless glides were. I do not think the term I used was the correct one, but there wasn't much else I could call their movements. Maybe it was natural, and maybe it wasn't. There would be nothing to rationalize until I was able to get a better look at such life, as they were too far away to observe correctly and displayed little signs of being exceptionally gifted in magic or possessing the behavior of anything I should place any importance on.

Luna's eyes caught my position, where she offered a small smile. Although, this time her mouth was closed and her quick gesture of friendliness, it bore hints of worry that only I caught. "What do you think so far?"

I was grateful that she didn't bother to offer a pointless and flat waste of words asking about my well-being when we could read each other quite plainly. Her voice was somewhat eerie and distorted by the water she stood in and her mane floated about her form with slow waves, its sparkles not as prominent. I suspected the reason she could still breathe well, handle such pressure, as well as move so fluidly were but a few signs of her inborn godhood.

Meanwhile, I rotted in the feeling of condensed magic that prickled against my coat in the most unpleasant way possible now that their waves were dense and distorted in ways that were far from natural, as they could not pierce this curtain of water and hang in the air as laxly as they could on land or air.

"It's certainly exotic," I say just loud enough for her to hear the inklings of contempt that come from my present condition, and pause before adding, "and while I wish to learn more, this certainly isn't for me. I could only imagine what dreadful things this unusually salty water would do to my mane if I were able to go like you do. Blegh."

I reach up to push a lock into my face for emphasis to my disgust. "The Right-Honourable Lord Sombra does not think highly of the conditions here, as they differ to much from what I'm used to. Although, he is still intrigued by the creatures that may dwell here, though they are lucky to be gifted with my presence at all. Surely, they realize this is hardly even a millennial occurrence for them?"

Luna's laughter looses none of its mirth underwater, but is distorted like almost everything else so it didn't sound quite as loud. "Did any of the other princesses tell you how funny your sass is?"

"Well..."

The pink one treated me like a storybook villain, and then a reluctant friend before she got to where she is now. Mac has made it quite clear that she doesn't appreciate my sarcasm, a reaction which I disregard, but she's still able to play along once or twice.

The disgusting purple aspartame substitute for my candy golem did nothing but whine her privileged ass off and stomp her hooves in an attempt to summon the husk that she feels needs to hold her hooves at all times when her five servants aren't around to dote on her.

Lastly is the ugly matriarch the lacking lilac worm aspires to be. A hobbled and dull husk without an adequate understanding of anything, except attempting to look pretty as she signs papers and preaches lies and needlessly coddles any ignorant subject that is so much as displeased with the weather in that dystopia the humorless old tyrant loves so dearly. She has so little tolerance for me, or anyone and anything  that doesn't fit into whatever sick ideology that she has created, and certainly couldn't ever imagine me doing anything outside of licking up the dirt on which she has just walked upon. This would mean she is unable to see me as anything even close to what I am, so 'funny' is out of the question.

I've never been called that before.

"...no."

This seems to surprise her, and I offer no remark to show how unexpected this is for me. 

"I certainly find you to be funny."

I'm not even sure how I'm supposed to respond to this. I either think of 'funny' as either ironic or pathetic, and I'm hardly being ironic right now, and pathetic isn't even an option for somepony as grand as myself.

"You're very witty yourself, Luna." 

She's still smiling, but turns her head a bit, and I'm able to see that she must not be very used to honest compliments instead of meaningless and standard pleasantries and flattery that come with those regal shackles, as her face colors just a little bit.

"Were you still planning to tell me about Alicorns like myself?" Luna asks after a short while.

We have walked nearer to the edge of an undersea slope, where the silhouette of a large, wealthy-looking town and a palace loom in the murky distance, a thousand werelights floating above them like an anchored mimicry of the night sky. I could see flocks of the strange creatures drifting about alongside some strange kind of equine.

It would be a walk that lasted, oh, I'd say about four hours. There'd be plenty of time to talk, and plenty of time to think over what we say.

Equine... but not a pony. 

It looks like I've given myself the perfect place to start as well, so as we walk, I tell her of the godhood that makes her unlike a pony, how she is just as equine as me, but is and never was a pony.

I avoid the topic of the books that told me this, but never will I forget their flame-licked covers.

I won't forget who they left behind, and the horrible feeling that came with it, or the shape that lied in the ashes that sat, feeling so raw, so lost, and hurt. How he was more alone than ever in that moment, for it was the only time he was truly aware of how he had not just felt simply alone, but deserted in the first and greatest massacre that had ever really touched him.

She's unlikely to know that I memorized every word, as I usually do. Or how some of what I say is from those pages that crumbled and perished in the fire that never should have been, how it's glow gave life to a knife held in magic that ran wet with the crimson ink of a different kind of book to spell out words that I'd never let be true. Over and over. Cut after cut, until there was little that could be done to hide the limp and all I had to see, wide-eyed and staring slack-jawed, eyes burning like the rest of me, but only on the inside.

It was always colder there. A bitter prison that rivaled the ice and two eyes, allegedly of flame, had to witness each rip, each lost secret and history. Every blood spatter carefully calculated by eyes that saw all the shades of shadow in a world of a gray that spoke only of death, how he, a forced Reaper, even more mute than they, saw the crimson ink that was inflicted upon him.

He could have ended it all, exchanged one Tartarus for another. But he waited, and years later salvation came on night-blue wings and eyes that flashed with two worlds as they deciphered the honest darkness in which I lived for eight years. How her eyes possessed a madness I had seen only in myself in the present darkness, sadness over anger to my opposite, rage clawed over layers of despair.

How could we have recognized what we had never seen before? With crimson aura and a silver sword with bright lightning flashing between us, how did I ever know that two complete wholes would ever come together in a bight world of idolized fragments, and that we would begin a tale of two shadows that would last till now, even if I was the only one to know?

When I stop telling all that I agreed to, everything has happened. But only to me.

We are halfway to the current destination, and there is an elevated sense of wonder in those turquoise that I'd tell everything I can bear to and nothing given the chance. I still can't believe that his mare, out of everypony in this rotten world would heal me, and fix what had been stolen.

Aren't I a monster? How is there but one answer to that? Why would she heal me?

How could anypony heal me? Why aren't I her demon as well? Where's the blame to shift to me, the looks of half-built friendship and the smiles that know how violent I can really be?

Where's everything I've come to know? Why is this beautiful goddess who rebels so wonderfully against everything, whether she knows it or not, at times unaware of what she does? There's no absolute about me to her, a mare that flicks between shrouds of ignorance and drifts through the guarded cities of order to see a free world, the one that lights the wonder that she still has in her eyes.

How could anypony be surprised it was her? This clever rebel who breaks every rule but her own, and can't be resisted by me, who bears each thread of black and white and weaves something together that only her eyes and mine can call familiar, a gray that suits us both.

But for now I continue to keep all to myself, it is her turn to talk.



...



I could listen to Luna speak for eternity. Her voice was as alive as she was, and she knew how to say each word as if it belonged in an epic. Her words mattered, each and every word was smartly chosen and as interesting as she was. Luna's voice has this lovely sound, its low and melodious and even if she was reading something as painfully idiotic as Equestrian As She Is Spoke, it would still have an oddly compelling quality.

I had told her most of what I knew about the gods that had ruled kingdoms that no longer existed, and a few other things as if I were a detailed history book. Luna speaks of equines called sirens and seaponies, and all sorts of other curious little workings of this underwater world, an adventurer's spark in her eyes as she effortlessly works in all kinds of poetic details that only somepony who sat and watched the world could ever hope to glimpse.

We compliment one another. Luna is the only pony I've actually ever wanted to listen to or spend time around. I didn't even know it was possible to love somepony more than I love myself, but I do.

Suddenly, Luna stops talking and is distracted by something a few paces away, moving in a patch of coral, as the strange rock-plants are called.

We were approaching the town - which Luna said was called Styx - and I had begun to feel the magic of living things that were close by once again, some equine, some belonging to the strange creatures I had yet to see up close. Although, Luna's description of them created the image of something utterly foreign, even to somepony like me.

When she returns, there is a creature held within the wavering glow of her magic and excitement in her eyes.

"Look," she exclaims, thrusting the creature closer.

I can't tell whether it is male or female, mostly because I'm bombarded by the many scales that its almost snake-like body has, each in bright purple, orange, or yellow. Its tail and mouth - which constantly bears a dumb-struck expression that looks something like an 'O' - are an icy blue, with two long strands that almost look like whiskers in the same hue.

Three other fins along its back, stomach, and two on each side of its body are a deep green. While this creature stares at me with a wide-eyed, utterly derpy wall-eyed stare, my muzzle crinkles in disgust as I return with a stare of my own, glaring at the orange-faced creature. Blegh.

"What will you name him?" Luna asks brightly, clearly not confused by the strange animal swimming in a turquoise pocket of magic. Even though she explained that animals like this swim to move around, I can't help but find that an unusual way to go from place to place. 

"Name him? Luna, I don't even know what you want me to do with him."

"Have you never had a pet before?"

"No, what is that?" I ask. Both of us have ceased walking in order to carry on this conversation, and I cast a quick glance over in the direction of Styx, which will have to wait a while longer.

"A pet is another animal, usually a small one, like a bird, cat, or rodent that lives with you, follows you around at times, and are a different kind of friend. Most ponies have one as a foal, and play games with them."

I recall something from Onyx's memories that fits what she describes very well. "So, would an example of a pet be Banshee?"

There's a hint of sadness in Luna's eye, and she nods quietly. "Yes, exactly like Banshee."

"And you want me to have this... this... err... this...?"

"He's a fish, Sombra."

"Got it."

"So what will you call him?"

"Fish."

Luna's hoof nears her face but does not complete its course. "That's what he is, I'm asking you what his name will be."

"Fish."

"Are you kidding? Calling him 'Fish' would be like calling me 'Alicorn' in place of 'Luna'. What do you honestly wish to name this companion?"

"Fish," I repeat, my tone just as flat as it was the first two times.

"Could you at least make it a little more creative?"

I pause for a moment. I need a brilliant name for this creature. Something bold, something nopony would think of... 

"Fish, Destroyer of Worlds," I conclude.

Something absurd enough to make Luna practically smash her own hoof into her face.

"Please, for the love of everything that is sacred in this world, don't have foals," she mutters, "I dread to know what you would name them."

"I'm not making any promises on that one," I reply, smirking as I do so.

Luna cocks one eyebrow suspiciously and I quickly make my expression as neutral as possible. She floats Fish's bubble of water toward me, where it floats beside, me anchored by my own magic, which causes the defined bubble of water to glow red momentarily.

I give Fish a sideways glance, trying to see past the bubble where he swims contentedly in order to see Luna's expression and gauge her reaction, only to feel a vague sense of apprehension when her expression was revealed to be just as stoic as mine.

Maybe she won't dwell on it.

'Maybe' here meaning that this will be in the back of her mind as a suspicious behavior.

We resume our journey to Styx in silence.



...



Styx certainly wasn't a very loud place like some Equestrian cities. The dark colored stone buildings trimmed with coral and werelights blended into the surrounding land very well. The weathered edges of various conservatively sculpted houses and shops were easy enough to forget since they lacked some of the tasteful yet bold designs I had seen in Canterlot, but still proved that they were more worthy of my attention than an average Equestrian location. In my travels, numerous villages throughout Equestria were lacking anything particularly noteworthy that I am mildly surprised anypony bothered to name them.

I was pleased with the shuttered windows, most of them were all shut tightly so there were less eyes on me and more on Luna as we made our way through the quiet streets. I don't imagine that unannounced visits from the divine, and one who trotted about unconcealed, were anything less than astonishing. 

My hooves on the thickly cut stone bricks of the streets was the sound that could be considered the loudest through the meaningless early morning chatter of the seapony peasants that lingered near the sides of the streets, demonstrating that they were at least a few pegs above ponies by not calling out any names, or glaring at me like I did to them out of the corner of my eyes until most of them bowed their heads or looked away abruptly once I shot the colorful creatures and their duller-hued town a mildly belligerent look before looking at something less pathetic.

It wasn't too difficult to see that the entire town was built around the palace and the estate encompassing it. While none of the residents could be considered poor, especially not by the standards I have seen, the dwellings became more distasteful and unnecessarily opulent in order to make the presence of whatever deficient and boring  dimwits lived within known. I swear that if jewels and gold had any superficial worth to me, I would have made a fine highwaypony, but more dashing and without any of the needless gentlecolt act. My presence is enough of a gift, and what's a kind word to one's enemies without a touch of venom? Utterly artless.

Luna appears to be at ease in the city, which is good, since she's going to have to be conversing with her oaf of a cousin soon. There are a few of these strange equines who bow slightly, recognizing her as a Princess-Goddess and all that strikes me as a reminder of the utmost reverence for Alicorns that has managed to echo past the death of the Old World.

I get a bit of somepony's garbage thrown at me in the most careless of ways - it's like they don't know I can see things and think I'll just stand there and take this. It isn't even a proper wad, too. Stingy fish-horses. I guess I'm lucky these aren't Equestrians. I've caught wind of a few conversations when in disguise of what ponies think of me from whatever propaganda has been released.

Some of the things they want to do to me are almost as atrocious as the things they believe I've done. I've gotten disgusted just listening to a few tales of things I've never done. How can ponies be this disturbed? Celestia has kept them moronic and naive for the most part, and she's been doing it for a thousand years and yet, if you paint a picture of a monster - no matter how false it is - their words will bring it to life.

I'm jolted out of my thoughts by Luna screaming at somepony, well it's actually in the direction of somepony, and the one who threw garbage at me. Why would she do this? It's not like I'm going to cry as if I were a foal, there's been worse things that have been done to me. This would be an everyday occurrence if I were to go out into the public as a am.

Why bother?

Only when I look down do I see a reason that Luna could be so angry. They didn't just throw any kind of garbage at me.

They threw a glob of discarded fish at me. Seaponies eat fish.

They threw meat at me.

No. This is disgusting. Why? WHY?!

No. No. No. Gods, I hate meat, I hate it.

Gods, why does everything have to be so rotten?

I didn't realize I was shaking and had been so zoned out until Luna takes my hoof and guides me a bit closer to her, and I'm still shivering and trying not to think about everything that happened because I don't want to, and I didn't want to do any of that, I really didn't-

"Sombra, look away; just look at me."

I'm hyperventilating and feel heavier than any stone when I can feel her one of her hooves cover my eyes, and the last thing I see is one glimpse of Fish's colorful scales as she manages to pull me away and my hooves move one again...

One step. I manage one step. And she guides me through another, and another...

"Sombra, we're almost to the castle," Luna whispers, "I'm sorry."

I love you. I love you. I love you.



...



Those three words that had been with me for one thousand years and counting. The longer I live the louder they get, and the more I want to tell her, even though I can't risk such carelessness. Despite the parallel eternities that lies before us both, I know that neither of us will forget a single mistake in this game when everything is aligned so favorably. I'd end up hurting us both because of my lovesickness. 

Everything centers around those three words which have never faded over time. They're always somewhere, usually in the back of my mind. It doesn't matter if it's over the course of hours during a long train ride to a forsaken empire or just a brief flicker of longing behind anger at somepony else upon seeing a portrait from a time I've never known.

Three words that are so far from simple have always been there and sometimes a fourth - her name - follows like the memory of her in that lucid abyss. 

She's what makes eternity a gift instead of a bet. Luna is the only reason this world is distinguishable from Tartarus and Paradise is no reward at all, only a different kind of prison.

I'm not an inadequate suitor chasing the image of a mare I want to see with nothing but gilded lies. I don't want power, or titles, and the world to know my name, nor do I want to try and impress her with superficial strength and a practiced smile when I defeat my enemies.

There's only two things I care about: Her and I, because I will not just lay about and fawn over her like she's just a fleeting idol. I've acted upon this and will not sit idly by and dream of our parallel eternities converging when I can make them just long enough to tell the greatest thief I have ever met that she stole my heart and can damn well keep it.

It doesn't matter what is thrown at me because I won't let anything or anyone - pony or not - stand in between me and what I've been waiting one thousand years to say to her, whenever the perfect moment arises. This includes gods.

And to some extent this includes gods with terrible taste in interior design. I give another disdainful glare to the halls of Styx Palace, which Luna and I had just entered.

Everything I thought Canterlot Castle would have been, the Styx Palace was. The walls were ornately carved with details in reliefs that just seemed excessive. The borders of the walls and floors were disastrous flourishes that were organized in a pattern I couldn't make any sense of. All I caught was too much gold - which was almost as bad as all the purple shades that could be seen in the stone - and other soft, bright colors that reminded me of an overly sunny and flower-infested garden, which was just reason to scowl at what I could see as I tried to keep my head slightly lowered so as much of Styx was seen only through my mane.

It was difficult even to try and  focus on the floor, which didn't bear any tiled mosaics in bold colors but were inlaid with patterns nonetheless. This was because what would have been decent architecture at one point was marred with literally thousands of trinkets cluttering every hall. They lined the shelves tacked there and were crammed onto the surface of every table that bordered what little hallway remained visible under various enchanted rugs.

"Does Neptune have to use tracking spells to find everything?" I ask Luna, who walks to my left when I had mentioned to her as discreetly as possible I didn't want the seapony guard following us to be anywhere near that side, since I still wan't used to being able to view this much.

"Sometimes, I would think. His memory is good enough," she responded while eyeing a clock with many shells in it warily.

"I can't find any shadows in this place, so unfortunately for me he's thorough in this hoarding. Is he ill?"

"My cousin has habits that many dismiss as peculiar."

I pause just long enough to fall behind a few paces. The guard who isn't deserving of any description by me is quite fast at navigating this trash heap. "I take it you don't follow that trend."

"Not at all, I simply can't guess to what would cause some of his problems."

"Does he... err... eat fish too?" I almost spit the words out and shake  with disgust at the thought of even mentioning such a thing.

"No. I'm sorry that that happened to you, Sombra. I didn't know it would make you so uncomfortable. There's no way I won't tell Neptune about this. His subjects should be better behaved than that, as it isn't like they were scarred by the Collapse."

"It's nothing new."

"I don't think that's an excuse for you to be treated as you are."

"I mistreat ponies too."

"That's easier to rationalize, is it not? You don't mistreat ponies if they don't wrong you, correct?"

I love you, Luna.

I look up to the high vaulted ceiling, which too was cluttered tastelessly, but I wasn't able to see much as Fish swam in his bubble above me. 

There was nothing to say, both on my part and because we had arrived at the door to the throne room. To the latter, I need not even raise an eyebrow, because clearly whoever ruled this land wasn't as enlightened as they thought troves of absolutely delicious not-so-lost knowledge might suggest.

This Neptune thought that he could design doors better than I could, gilding them with murals of gods long forgotten by all but those who remain. He even had the nerve to use the largest, most polished gems for their eyes.

Neptune never got the long overdue notice that he was my inferior, at most. I quicken my pace, pushing the guard aside and grabbing the doors with a nice flash of crimson magic and push them inward, immediately reeling from a blinding flash within - no doubt from some gaudy trash - and feel the flinching prickling sensation that lets me know that there's enraged god about as if the terrified scream of a stallion and trident pointed at my neck wasn't enough.

"So it's going to be one of those days?" I drawl.

Two eyes of watery blue have the nerve to look elsewhere and my gaze follows his down and nearly does a double take. Flecks of blood mar his chestplate, which is fashioned out of shells, as well as the front of my cloak.

A barrier of the darkest blue feathers divides the trident from me. Luna's wing took the trident for me and separates me from having my chest speared.

She has healed a monster when the world wanted only to hurt me, which was something I didn't expect, even from her... but now she is willing to temporarily cripple herself and-

My attention is pulled away from my own thoughts by the faint trails of blood drifting through the water like frayed threads.

It's her blood.

"Neptune do you know who this is?"

"King Sombra, tyrant king of the north," he recites dully, "an obvious Shadow."

Neptune wrenches his trident out of Luna's wing, not noticing that she's clearly in too much pain to even vocalize now. When he's done, her wing, with hideous shreds and punctures through it almost drops loosely to her side, but I catch it with my magic and step closer to her. The sight hurts me, and I want to pull her aside, to thank her, offer soothing noises, nuzzle her-

I can't do that.

"You are wrong," Luna replies, her voice steely as she meets her cousin's weaker gaze, "Sombra is no king, nor is he a tyrant. This is Sombra, Duke of Nowhere and Nothing. He is accompanying me on matters we have traveled great distance to discuss with you, and I would greatly appreciate it if Sombra's temper and my own were not invoked in any way."

It's hard to choose which weapon, Fate or that oversized trident, to take to Neptune's face when I'm done with healing Luna's wing, and it's harder not to do any of that at all. Hardest still is not showing Luna how angry I feel for the duration of this and comprehending why she would do something like that for me.

It had to be simply because it would inconvenience her to have me regenerate because her cousin ran me through with an oversized fork. She would have been found out by that wretch of a sister of hers and her plans would have been spoiled.

Let one wing be wounded for the possibility of preserving this world. When I've finished mending her wing, I clear my throat and gently fold it before letting go. She folds it gently at her side, eyes shining upon seeing what she whispers is a good job. Neptune mumbles something stuffy and leads her, Fish, and I into the throne room but Luna turns to me and bestows me with a small smile I shouldn't receive after what I've done today.

My facial expression is unreadable. but it's not like I want to tell her how hollow I feel as the last traces of her blood dissolve in the water.

I keep asking myself why even though I have no idea what the answer is.

How can you be so kind to me?
> Chapter 12: Cousins' War
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Sombra:


I imagine then when you happen to half-accidentally live for as long as I have, you'll acquire at least one or two beliefs that border on prejudice, if only because they can't be justified well enough to pass for much else.

Me, I hate kings, or at least that is what I'll chose to say. Anypony who willingly chooses or desires to be a king - there's no good reason to - I will have a personal loathing for, if I don't already. There are so many ways to use power and rule, that to settle on being a king just ends up being silly. They're idiots that are all talk who can't bother to just sit on that throne of theirs and think about anything. Each of them is just some power-mad usurper or another undistinguished heir who thinks that whatever mess they inherited is either the best thing in the world or something they can fix with a few official decrees. Some are merely a living puppet with snickering advisor, or a realm of blind ponies following them. Lastly, there's always the consorts who are worth only an official footnote.

When I was younger, I would pore over everything and anything with words as soon as I managed to learn to read. History texts, biased pamphlets hidden away, foalish breezie tales, and novels. Each one of them only acted as an expected confirmation to the hatred of the king's crown I was forced to endure.

Kings are not only stupid, but incredibly dull as well, and history has not proven me wrong. It is not hard to notice that they define themselves by the crown most of all. Queens seem to vary quite a bit, and I have to say that there appear to have been quite a few deliciously witty ones that have found their way onto the leaves of books I've read. I can't really compare them to one as grand as myself, but even these inferiors were slightly less atrocious than their crowns and horrid alignments indicated. I would never want to be in the vicinity of most, as they are still ponies and other creatures I hold little to no love for.

Princes aren't much I ever bothered to look at, seeing as they usually became kings and were entitled naifs groomed so the crown might rest comfortably upon their empty skulls.

Princesses are the most annoying, almost-anarchic, and even amusing bunch of all royals. Some were capable, some were conniving, others were cutesy imbeciles. They have the most variation of any crown-bearing fools that I have seen. Why, I've already encountered four examples: Princess Tyrant, Pink Princess, Princess Possibly-Dead-Inside, and Princess Charming.

So it goes without saying that I would resent Neptune for his title alone, since I doubt he could make up for it if it was something he chose for himself. Luna was visibly annoyed with something Neptune was saying, which was giving him less Sombra Points by the second. Neptune himself had clearly never taken any lessons in composure and looked as if he was trying not to admit my sheer superiority to him very, very hard, clearly not realizing Sombra Points don't apply simply for one's effort. I don't think sarcastic star stickers that I conjure up to aid me with vandalizing bad kearning in Canterlot work underwater, or I might have given him some. I'm also pretty sure that based on this stallion's expression he has never eaten anything but the most rotten of aquatic grapefruits that are at least half as bitter as my life outlook.

While Luna attempts to deal with the pest that happens to be relatives, Neptune brushes off something she says - which earns a glare from me - and struts over to his throne.

Clearly, Neptune tries too hard. His stride is so terrible I could be occupied for hours just pointing out why mine is better.

What really is too flamboyant, by any standards to the point where I wouldn't even want to try to pull this off, is the throne that Neptune sits in.

I haven't absolutely no idea what the thrones in Canterlot Castle look like, but I can certainly say that if it's anything like the rest of the castle it shouldn't look as awful as this one. Yet, I suppose that like the rest of this castle, the throne was only going to reflect something about the sub-standard god.

Like the cave of the dragon that Mac just had to get kidnapped by, there was a hoard in the throne room of Styx Palace. Piled around the shell and pearl adorned chair that rose above the clutter on a small platform was meaningless, golden garbage. 

Chalaces, helmets, scepters, and many other things, like gems roughly half the size of a pony's face lay in a messy heap. His trident now sticks out from the clutter, causing a few goblets to roll farther down the pile.

I blink and decide to hold back my disgust. If he were to take all this trash - for I can't see a single piece of art among this collection - he could melt it down and make something both useful and well-crafted, or even use his magic to reforge it into something that's useless out of context, like money.

I've done that before, it's a nice hobby. There's plenty of opportunity for such things in Las Pegasus.

"Why does your demon look like he wants to steal from me?" Neptune sniffs.

I narrow my eyes, but say nothing. Your demon... 

"He's not mine, Neptune," Luna replies from her place next to me. Her mouth is set in an unamused frown that doesn't look half-bad at all...

"It seems we'll be disagreeing on that. You have the audacity to bring a demon, a Shadow, into my realm, my very own palace like it's nothing!"

"And apparently you have the audacity to forget that this demon, whose name isn't even fit for your tongue, can understand everything you say as I stand right here like it's nothing!"

A slight movement near Luna's throat tells me that she's stifling laughter and choosing to stay stoic.

"I allowed you in here only at my belligerent cousin's insistence, for it is her I will converse with, not you. I never even gave you permission to speak."

"First off, I'm the belligerent one around here, which I imagine you'll learn soon once the voices in your head stop telling you that pegasus chemtrails are dousing your ocean with assorted potions to gain control of your mind. Second, I'm sure that somepony who isn't as apathetic to your existence as I am and has terrible interior design taste, much like yourself, would appreciate it if you learned not to harbor false impressions."

King Chemtrail clearly has had most of his mind eaten by chemicals that deserved a better meal than this imbecile's mind. I'm almost surprised that him and Purple Eyesore aren't crafting aluminum replicas of everything together and sharing what their lobotomy experiences were like.

"What about this impression that I harbor could be so false against the likes of you?"

"You're under the impression that I care."

His quick change in expression of disgusted to furious would have been accompanied with some much louder remarks had Luna not given me a I know he's fun to tease, but did you really have to do that?' look and speedily changed the subject.

"I only bring Sombra here because he is accompanying me for my trip. I see no reason for you to hold such an automatic disliking for him. Sombra may be insolent, but he's not going to do much more than sass you."

I stare at Fish silently as they continue to talk.

"Well your demon certainly isn't polite."

"He's not mine, Tuna, and I would suggest that you call Sombra by name."

I snorted at Luna's remark. It was her that taught me that 'tuna' was a kind of fish on our way to Styx.

"I've already allowed it in my castle, which is more than enough," Neptune huffs from the throne.

I don't bother to suppress a growl - which startles Fish and catches Luna's attention - because any more and Neptune will be crossing quite a few lines where being Luna's god-cousin won't save him from my temper.

"If you call him 'it' one more time," Luna says slowly, "I will be calling you Tuna for the next millennium."

"Why shouldn't I refer to the demon properly? His very existence is a-"

"Watch it," I growl.

"See? Your precious companion will easily turn violent and cannot be trusted. If he weren't an immortal mistake because of Celestia this would be one less sin to worry about."

I could dismember Toxic Tuna in at least twelve different ways right now...

"You don't even know anything about him and refuse to acknowledge him by name, so of course I won't be needing to consider any judgement of yours on Sombra."

"Well then, little cousin, I see nothing to know about this demon."

"That is your loss."

"She's right, you know. I'm the best thing to happen to everypony."

Neptune has the nerve to ignore me and go on talking to Luna even though he's very bad at pretending I'm not in the room. He's honestly got more against me than Celestia and I'm not entirely sure why. When you're as experienced with hatred as I am, or simply as observant, you're able to tell when the kind of hate you see is personal or the effect of something trivial, and Neptune's hate is too strong to be the latter.

"What is it that you seek, Luna, and why do you think that I can give it to you, or that it can be obtained at all?"

"I want answers, first and foremost, Neptune. Once I have answers, I will be able to prevent whatever catastrophe that you know will be upon us all if we sit idly by. I seek whatever information you can offer as that shark was found within your domain."

This steadfast reply of Luna's seems to both terrify and trigger Toxic Tuna. "What do you think the corpse of one dead fish that washed up on the western shores is going to mean? It won't do anything, nor will fighting invisible enemies, because that worked so well all those years ago, didn't it?"

"We didn't know what we know now," Luna replies, her eyes shining with her defiant spirit and the knowledge that Neptune had unknowingly given us both, no matter how small the fact.

"It doesn't matter! We still know nothing and your actions aren't helping anypony. Do you really think your death or glory approach will work here?"

"I do."

I looked from Neptune to Luna, it was clear that this was no longer an argument I could easily participate in and it would be best just to listen, since there was bound to be more to learn from each venomous reply and subtle gesture between the two foes. In this verbal battle, it was easy to see the volumes of everything unspoken where I was no longer part of the context, and it was best I just appear to look at Fish and appear bored.

"You're even less reasonable than Celestia!" Neptune shouted, "Why can't you just accept that they're gone? Are you still so mad with grief that you'll risk everything in a gamble so careless? The time you spent has made you unstable and almost as dangerous as what you had been before your return to Midgard."

Luna's glare was steely and bored into her cousin while I gleefully awaited the cue to attack the king behind my apathetic composure.

"Just look at yourself, Luna. Listen to reason. Your mind is weak as ever as you chase dreams. You should believe me when I say that they are gone, cousin. Go back to Canterlot with Celestia, who should be able to get something through that thick skull of yours."

"No," Luna says, and I don't even to bother to hide the pleased smirk at the stubbornness she exhibits, since it isn't like those two are paying any attention to me.

"Does Celestia even know that you're here?"

For a split second, I get a few words in, a simple and automatic statement upon realizing that Luna won't tell even the smallest lie. 

"Did you just imply that a princess would leave her country without a ridiculous tearful farewell to at least somepony that loves and adores her? Wouldn't that cause some chaos sooner or later?"

It seems that Luna is quite the actress, having hid the brief flash of appreciation in her eyes almost instantaneously and scowled darkly.

"Silence, Sombra," she commanded, her voice even lower than normal.

Even when she's faux brooding... oh gods...

"Did I upset the fragile little princess?" I taunt, adding a faint snicker that is almost entirely muffled by the bubble of water around me. 

Toxic Tuna is quite poisoned by our absolutely spectacular banter and gives a look to Luna as if the wretch had the nerve to command her not to return another mock-insult.

She listens and I further contemplate ideal deaths for her cousin. If Fish were just an oddly shaped rock instead of an animal maybe I could have more potentially gruesome courses of action.

"You might heed the words of this beast, cousin. He clearly is onto more than you think."

At the word 'beast' I dig my hooves into the floor and try to will the spell on my fangs not wear off. Gritting my teeth - fangs - is such a bad habit. I can break the feeble mind of purple scum but not a simple habit?

I don't want to give him whatever 'proof' he thinks will support his claims.

I want to tear him apart.

It's just too easy, he's a god, but I'm far from his inferior and my life is just as eternal. He'd certainly be an interesting opponent, and maybe even a challenge.

And then there's Luna, who looks so down because of Neptune's words. How did what he say bother her? She mutters something I don't catch.

"Of course Celestia told me. We may not be the closet family in the world, but I still have a right to know my own cousin's welfare. You aren't a stable mare, Luna, and this frivolous adventure is only going to worsen things for others and yourself, not that I imagine you know or care what you put yourself through. If you have any sense at all, you'll ditch your choice in company and go back to Canterlot where Celestia can at least keep an eye on somepony as reckless-"

Don't.

"damaged-"

You.

"-and as much of a liability as you are."

Dare.

One split second is all it would have taken on land. Everything would move as I intended, my form would not be what it was down here.

Three seconds and I have the tip of Fate's blade in the direction of his neck before Luna can blink and bow her head with shame at whatever it was that he said to her.

Half a second for those eyes I hate to look away from to see what I'm doing, and shock to overtake almost every bit of despair that had temporarily taken hold of her.

I don't bother to to count how long it takes for this horrid king to scream out that a monster is in the castle and ready his magic. He doesn't realize that the monster is him, and he prepares a spell that I'm willing to take on, but Luna clearly recognizes the cyclone of water and enchantment he builds.

One second for her horn to light and her, Fish, and I to disappear from Styx and the world under the water all together.



...



I didn't have to be standing right next to Luna to know that she was upset. The usually relaxed atmosphere of the Sky Scraper was drenched with a magic aura that was particularly collapsing in on itself from anxiety.

Luna herself only looked like she had misplaced something and was slightly frustrated upon not being able to remember what she had misplaced in the first place. I'm surprised that she can still concentrate on steering, because I'm having a hard time focusing on anything that isn't her, knowing what emotions are writhing within her mind and how she could let a spell loose at a moment's notice and lose control for just a minute.

"Sombra, why are you so compelled to stare at me?"

Making no direct eye contact, her gaze strays to the ragged hem of my cloak instead. The tone of her voice is remarkably composed, except for a slightly sullen timbre that appears when she's anxious about midway through her sentence, as if she is trying to distance herself.

All obvious signs of Luna internally panicking.

"You're not okay."

Luna won't look at me and continues to steer the ship.

"Outside of being a general prick, what was it that he said that upset you so much?"

"Do you have to insult every member of my family? Can you quit sparing me your criticisms and just tell me how dreadful you find my behaviors to my face?"

"Don't change the subject. I don't insult you because I don't have anything against you that is strong enough to prompt such a reaction from me," I sit down next to her now that I've gotten Fish situated in my cabin and punctuate my statement with a generous eye roll, "I just want to know what's wrong."

"I don't want to talk about what Neptune said."

"Is that the only thing that's bothering you?"

"No! No it isn't!"

I sit silently, waiting for her to continue. This behavior doesn't shock me. The first thing I had noticed when her spell returned us to the ship was that she was much, much more upset than she would let on, which isn't exactly like most ponies. In fact, I was pleased to know that a creature who felt things so deeply existed, since emotional connections to magic like hers are very rare. Most of the the time they end with idiots like Onyx having outbursts, or incomplete senses of 'awareness' gained from creatures with the usual amount of superficiality messing with poorly developed magic that gets them nothing. Never has it been the unique creativity and zest that Luna has. 

Because of this, it was all the more saddening when she was upset.

"It was never just that!"

I watch as Luna ceases sitting and starts to pace across the front of the deck - the proper term for this eludes me - where she raises and lowers the moon.

"It is everything at this point!"

I don't need to ask what 'everything' entails. She isn't talking to me any longer, but is bound to answer herself, or at least expand upon her statement soon.

For a brief moment, Luna flashes an angry look to none in particular - and it happens to fall upon the Sky Scraper's rail - and raises her hoof to strike out of frustration, the first colors of sunset behind her.

"Each possibility I bring up, gone! Every answer I've waited for, gone! Harmony between what family I have left, gone! Countless theories I have proposed, gone!"

Her voice cracks at the last refrain.

"Any time I try to start an investigation, Celestia still discourages me, although she does it so kindly this time. Too many years have passed and there's no place to start and there's never been anything to explain what happened until now! Neptune's just short-sighted, he gave up on Aunt Corah and Uncle Ponn coming back ages ago, but I can't give up on Mom and Dad, on somepony surviving..."

Luna stares at the railing that she bent with a single hit.

"...whatever took them..."

She swallows, wincing at how small her voice sounds.

"...whatever took them, it's still out there."

Her ears flop and she returns her forehoof to the ground and hangs her head once again before falling silent.

"Luna?"

She shivers slightly, only now realizing that it's nearly dusk, and the moon still isn't out. Hastily, Luna lights her horn and raises it above the horizon over the course of a few minutes without a word or even a glance at the night sky before trodding back to the wheel with heavy hooves.

Luna grabs the spokes of the wheel again, slouching over and tilting her head so her face is hidden. She doesn't acknowledge me.

I clear my throat, and even though she doesn't look at me I see one limp ear prick up slightly before falling back against her head.

"What is it, Sombra?" she asks quietly.

"There's something important about Alicorns I don't think you're telling me."

Luna's wings unfurl and curtain her face and she shivers again.

"If you shut me out, I can't help you." 

Luna, who has tolerated so many remarks from me, looks like she's trying to disappear once she catches the notes of irritation that I don't even try to soften.

"So, you're really going to be like this? Hiding? You never hid before."

"I'm not telling you."

Did I almost just laugh? Apparently. "Well you certainly sound adamant, now don't you? What could I possibly do to an Alicorn? I may be immortal but even you Alicorns are still virtually untouchable."

She still doesn't answer.

"You trust me don't you?"

"You could hurt me."

Now I fall silent, partly so she can speak but mostly because I know that feeling all too well.

"If I were to tell you any of this, I would be telling you things that not one pony in the past two thousand years, at the very least, has any knowledge of."

"I see, but are you forgetting that I am dangerous knowledge?"

One of her wings lowers a good deal, so I can see the shadow of her profile.

"You and I both know what dying is, Sombra. None of us are strangers to death, although our exposures to it differ."

I give her the slightest of dirty looks to thank her for reminding me I was used to further a child's genocidal fantasies. 

She gets the idea, and continues on. "Ponies die, as do most other animals. Alicorns do not, and somepony as learned as you are surely thinks it would stop there?"

"Don't your bodies regenerate when slayed?"

"Yes, but that does not count as death. It is not final and our souls do not depart this world. Alicorns cannot be brought back by necromancers nor do we lose our mind if we are felled through normal means - which I should mention would be a tremendous feat as we are not slain as easily as mortals." Even though her voice was muffled I was still able to hear what she said.

"There's something more final... for Alicorns?"

"Something I do not wish to tell you."

"Luna... are you scared?"

"Yes," she whispers.

"Do you really trust me?"

She repeats herself and I give a small sigh of relief.

"Do you want to know a secret?"

Was that a nod? It looked like one. Well, here I go...

"Obviously, now that I'm immortal I will never die and since I'm not an Alicorn like you I imagine that whatever you know won't be able to happen to me... can it?"

"No."

"Alright then, since there is no way for me to have Door #1 and get a mortal death... which I suppose is redundant seeing how you speak of it but oh well... and Door #2 of the 'Mystery Alicorn Option' is not available to me, I'll have you know that there is still a way to prolong any regeneration of mine for extended amounts of time."

"You're very talented with regeneration."

"Hey, it's flattering to know that I can piece this handsome face back together after Onyx goes and gets my body blown up. I'll have you know that was difficult too. Anyway, if you're ever tempted to get rid of me all you have to do is dismember me and scatter each piece of yours truly across different parts of the world and wait a few decades, centuries, or some other amount of time until I show up to your current location, incredibly angry."

The only sound I got from her was a faint 'uh'.

"I just told you how to prolong my regeneration - which is known to nopony, much like whatever knowledge you are withholding from me. Luna, I know many things about withholding knowledge because I've done it quite a bit myself and know what can be gained and lost from doing so."

Luna is silent for a very long time, but I don't budge from her side.

"...Is it wrong that I miss them?"

Upon hearing her voice, I'm startled because I know something's wrong because her voice is more than just off, she's choked up.

"...Is it w-wrong that I didn't give up?"

After hours, Luna's wings have grown cramped seeing how limply she drops them to her sides, where they won't even fold and just hang heavily. Once again, she still slouches so I can't see her face.

I stand up and hold a hoof out to where she sits at the wheel since I don't know what to say and there's a lump in my throat. I don't hate it when others cry, at least not in general. It's just a painful reminder to me.

I see her forehooves move in the dark, but it's not exactly easy to tell what she's going to do because a layer of clouds have rolled across the sky so only a few bits of stars' light can shine through. For a moment, it looked as if she would grab my hoof so I could pull her up and see if she'll stay in one of the cabins while I steer. It's not like Alicorns don't sleep.

But that was only for a moment. Instead, I find myself being tackled and feel my back slam into the railing a few paces behind me.

Umm, ouch.

Luna is hugging me, and gods is she strong. I think she might have actually left bruises, but I don't really care because oh my gods Luna is hugging me.

Nopony has ever had the nerve to ever make any kind of contact with me - which I would have been repulsed by had it been anypony else. I've never been hugged before or tackled and hugged - okay I've never been tackled either - and is it just me or is my face warm?

I can see the moonlight outlining her shimmering mane which isn't flowing as much, and the lump in my throat grows when I can feel her crying into my chest. I don't even need the light of the stars to see her silhouette shaking and feel her horn resting on my wither.

As they are made of the same magic I used to shape my cloak, I don't need a proper spell or the light of my horn to reduce the boots on my forehooves to bands smoothly and without a sound so I can wrap my left hoof - which, despite my previous condition always remained dominant - around her while I use my right to comb through her mane, which is indeed physical.

Any other pony who tackled me to the floor of anywhere in any other circumstance would have not not left unscathed had they even succeeded in the first place.

She tightens her embrace, but I don't care that if she were to look at me she could see how horribly my face flushes because it feels hotter than a summer day in southern Equestria right now despite the cool air around me. How could anypony become used to this? I don't bother to answer myself because I'm more worried about her instead of a my own rhetorical commentary.

I don't keep track of the time, but that pesky internal clock can't help but remind be that Luna and I have been here for over and hour.

I don't care, we could sit here the whole night even if she can figure everything out by morning with how nervously my heart must be beating.

I focus on only her and I, us.

Us.

Long after she stops crying, Luna is till hugging me and I don't mind one bit because I'm dreading when she'll wake up and let go, no longer snoring softly and tackling to me the ground once the moon is lowered in the morning. 

The both of us are going to be here all night.

Us...
> Chapter 13: Luna Galaxia, Counting Stars, and Lost Things
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Luna:


Sombra stares at me with a grumpiness level that exceeds his usual amount. A few strands of his black mane - which was always slightly disheveled - are in his eyes, and as drenched as the rest of his mane and withers currently were.

He made a slight sound of disgust in the back of his throat and flicked one of his forehooves slightly. There was a faint click as his metal boots expanded back into hoofwear.

I sat on the now-empty rain cloud and watched Sombra stand up from the deck where we had both fallen asleep the previous night. At the thought, I snuggled a bit deeper into the cloud. He had been tolerant of me, to say the least, but I don't think the growing friendship I had for him was entirely mutual. He was nice enough to be considerably affectionate to me and even though it was very comforting - surprisingly so on his part - I really should have asked him if I could hug him first, since he doesn't seem like a pony who enjoys much contact with others.

Suddenly, the sun's soft morning light through the overcast sky and the fluffiness of the silvery cloud I had plucked from the sky this morning disappears and something hits me on the head with a whoosh and everything takes on a shadowy crimson color.

I quickly yank whatever Sombra tossed at me off of my head and hold it at a distance with my hoof. It's his cloak, the one I always see him wear with a host of patches in earthy hues and a hem that is composed of ragged tears from removing fabric from the original design. A currently disused hood was one of the few parts that remained unpatched.

It looked cozy, so I slipped it on, only to find the hood and wither area had taken a considerable hit from the water in the rain cloud, and was almost as drenched as Sombra himself, who was certainly not pleased with this and was muttering a few creative curses to the morning light and trying to wring a bit of water out of his mane with his magic.

"Luna, you know I'm going to need that back."

"I am aware."

"Well, you could at least get the water out of the thing while you have it."

I give him a slight frown.

"If you want to, Luna."

"It'll dry eventually."

He sighs. "That too, but I'd like it dry as soon as possible."

"Why?"

"It's comfortable and has a hood for sunlight."

"It is very comfortable actually, do you sew on the patches yourself?"

"Yes."

"May I ask why you always wear it?"

Sombra stops trying to manually remove water from his mane and looks at me. "If you think it has anything to with me not having a mark-"

"It doesn't, and I did not think it did." What I told him was true. Sombra not having a mark was an incredibly uncommon thing if he was going to pass as an adult pony, to the point where it would 'out' that something was 'wrong' with him if he tried to go about daily life without his cloak, and yet I cannot imagine that was the cause he wore it. Such a thing did not strike me as the Sombra way.

"Well then, I already told you why I wear it."

And I believe you.

Sombra narrows his eyes and busies himself once again, this time settling on a quick spell to free the water from his mane. I decide to cast a similar spell on his cloak, but keep wearing until  he comes over until he walks over to the low hanging cloud, hovering a few feet above deck, where I am.

He absentmindedly fluffs his mane a bit before talking to me once again. "I need that back now."

My response is to reach out from my temporary cloud burrow and tousle his mane a bit - specifically his bangs - and watch him flinch slightly, stepping back and only stopping when he hears the sound of my laughter. I stop as soon as I see how confused he looks.

"Sombra, did I upset you?"

He blinks. "Uh, no. No, Luna. I'm just confused... why did you do that?"

"I want to keep your cloak for a bit. That's why." He's also oddly approachable at times for somepony so antisocial. 

"Well-"

"If you want me stop bothering you, I will," I add quickly, with the hint of a smile.

"Luna, you don't have to restrict yourself, or apologize so much. Although, I would like a reason to why you won't fork over my cloak, or I will be taking it by force."

I lift my head and look at him.

"Luna, what are you doing?" he asks, staring at my expression, eyes darting about as he scrambles to analyze it.

"Luna," he repeats more concerned this time, "what is that facial expression?"

He blinks quickly and then takes another step back. "Fine! You can keep it until you raise the moon, when I will most certainly take it from you because I will find a way around this spell of yours, but first you have to stop it, alright?!"

"Stop what?"

"Making that face and whatever sorcery you're using to magnify its effect. It's not quite mind magic - I'd know that - but it's some kind of charm, isn't it? I don't feel any magic, but the effect of it this is quite potent. Whatever it is, it's certainly a powerful. Would you teach it to me?"

I pulled the hood over my head with a quick tug from magic. It's still warm and even smells a bit like Sombra - mountain air, smoke and ashes, dust from frequent travel, and lastly, the crisp paper from a new book. "You want me to teach you how to pout?"

"Yes."

I try to retreat deeper into the hood, thinking. I may have an inch or so on Sombra but I'm very slender compared to him and most other ponies, so the cloak was even roomier for me. "I did have plans for the day, actually."

Sombra lifts his gaze more to focus on me directly, and I glimpsed the slightest bit of curiosity in his eyes. "And what might these plans be that they had to be done during the day?"

"You are not Onyx, which means you have intelligence and skill that exceeds a garden slug. You are also an immortal with great untapped potential. As we sail off into the great unknown, I still have no idea what your exact skill set is, or your capacity for those skills compared to my own. I thought we might have a friendly spar and I could teach you a few things with magic, depending on how well you do."

I can see the traces of an eager smirk forming on Sombra's mouth and a flash of fangs. "What kind of things?"

"I want to start teaching you magic that's more on my level, something a bit beyond what Cadance and Twilight would be taught, but still nothing close to anything truly god-tier yet. Real magic, Sombra, for it would be much more becoming of one with your rank."

Sombra's incomplete smirk does not betray much, although when I look into his eyes I see that wild, deceptive, and calculating fire which always made him a captivating opponent.

"Count me in."



...



The deck of the drifting Sky Scraper swayed slightly as a strong gust of wind blew, battering the airship around. The clouds over the sky darkened a shade until they look decently brooding and stormy within a few seconds, with a perfect wind to accompany them. The atmosphere was perfect for a small demonstration of my power.

I stomped my hoof upon the deck's surface and thunder clapped as I struck it, my eyes alight as lightning flashed.

I made sure to take care that the lightning was not too strong, as I do not want to inflict any damage upon the ship that could not be repaired easily.

The malleable force of nature no longer offered any of the resistance to my power as it did in my youth. I was pleased to see the wild strikes near both sides of the Sky Scraper, which shook even more in the storm that I had called forth.

Sombra's eyes burned with his usual calculating expression, only he didn't look as if were looking through something quite so simple, as there was curiosity there as well, and with it questions and observations that I eagerly waited for him to speak.

"So, Sombra, that's an example of where to start. Power over natural forces or one of the four classical elements that make up essentiamancy are usually the first kinds of magic that an Alicorn might look to master, if they uncover any inclination towards it, before ultimately finding their domain. For example, my sister is a clear pyromancer. Do you have any leaning in essentiamancy? I would say that those crystals of yours would mark you as a potential geomancer, but I can't be sure."

"No, I'm horrible at geomancy and crystallokinesis, and äerint isn't a true mineral. I'm not entirely sure what it is - just that it isn't naturally occurring, but holds great magic. Outside of dark fire, I'm not a bad pyromancer."

Why do I have the feeling 'not bad' is an understatement?

He paused as the boat lurched, appearing faintly queasy. "But I'm also not an Alicorn."

"Not every god is an Alicorn, Sombra."

He snorts, but still looks over to the sky and waiting for another round of light to pierce the sky. "Do you really think I could be an actual god with a domain, and true power other than what immortality itself can give me?"

"I do, Sombra. You aren't a novice when it comes to magic, and even though it was over a millennium ago when I held little of the power I do now, you were still able to do magic most mortals can't even dream of. Even now, this part of you is unchanged, and why would it be? You may not be a pony, but you can't deny that you hold great power and the potential for even more if your work is great and you explore this."

He snorts again, bitter and disdainful. His voice is lower when he speaks, bearing undertones of resentment. "So I'm a megalomaniac's dream?"

"I didn't mean it like that-" I began, and would have been able to get more out if I didn't see a blur of silver and red out of the corner of my eye, and soon the cool silver curve of a scimitar was at my neck followed. The hilt was held in Sombra's crimson aura, which was currently laced with traces of his darker magic and a sure sign that he was usually aggravated.

The strangest part about the wicked blade were the two crescent moons at each side of the hilt, a silvery blue pearl bearing an otherworldly polish grasped in each.

There was something undeniable about this blade, a familiarity I couldn't shake, and the twisted smirk he wore through the curtain of black mane only served to confirm my recognition. The glimpse of his fangs only served to accentuate his cocky expression.

"Change of subject: What was the previous name of what was once your blade?"

A lump of shock found its way into my throat. He had obtained the fragments of my old platinum sword? Why? What could it possibly mean to him? 

I had seen him carry it before - he either kept it on him, in a tailored sheath or summoned it from somewhere nearby - but only now did I get a closer look at it.

"Quicksilver. I refused to name it after the vain princess, as 'suggested' when it was forged for me. What do you call it?"

"Fate."

"How arrogant for you to wield Fate," I remark with a quick look at the stormy blanket of clouds that have still not dissipated. 

Fate's curved blade pressed into my neck slightly. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"None at all, I quite like it, actually. It 'has a ring to it', as ponies say. Now, I would like to know why you have placed Fate against my throat."

"You still owe me a sparring match," he adds, dropping the blade and releasing whatever charm he had used to dull the edge, though his smirk was clearly here to stay.

I gave him a smile and a quick, short stomp of my hoof coupled with a flash of my horn. Two axes, gleaming like starlight with wicked blades as sharp-looking as a thorn is to the meekest foal were gripped in my magic. They weren't particularly exciting compared to any of the best weapons I could conjure, but since I still don't know Sombra's full ability and I've never liked to reveal all my secrets at once, they'll do.

A momentary increase of his in his rakish smirk and eyes eager for a fight tell me that the message is mutual, we'll both be holding back for a bit, but oh, how good it is to fight!

I raise an ax and beckon for him to make the first move, just as the rain begins to fall, the curtain to the second act of our battles. From castle to airship, we've found ourselves together again, and I can't say I'm dreading any of it.



...



"It appears the present situation redefines the term 'heart attack', wouldn't you agree, Sombra?" I ask, still unnerved by Sombra's latest display of demonic powers.

Sombra, eyes merely bearing latent amusement in contrast to his reserved-once-more demeanor, lifts an eyebrow and appears to contemplate a smirk, but decides against it, even though I do enjoy them and certainly wouldn't mind if he did, for such a thing would be rather reassuring right now. He flicks his gaze downward to the matter at hoof.

"I suppose," he remarks dryly as he calmly surveys the ax lodged in his chest.

This had been a complete accident, as I had not intended to harm Sombra in any way. Our sparring had certainly become more heated when it became apparent that Sombra and I were both excited that we had finally found opponents of a similar skill level. As the hours wore on, it became clear that we wanted to see just how much we could do with blades alone.

The only thing that had posed as a problem was Sombra still hadn't properly adjusted to having two eyes available, and certainly not for prolonged duels. His depth perception in combat was still a work in progress.

Because of this, we were both absorbed in the heat of battle I had ended up planting one of the twin axes in Sombra's chest, and in the midst of battle rush, no less. Though, 'rush' is quite the misnomer, for there is great clarity of nearly everything that I observe in such scenarios, and yet the phrase of the silly common pony dismisses and creates such an injustice to the feelings that make up such a passion.

That should have killed his physical form for quite some time, or at least wounded him horribly so I'd have to rush over and heal him, as he would obviously not retain much of a capacity to do so himself.

Instead, the blade I hadn't been able to stop in time sank into shadow. Sombra had nearly forgotten about the blade as he casually explained that he could shift parts of his body into shadow without loosing too much of his equine form. It clearly took a lot out of him, as he looked visibly pale and even slightly feverish through his usual aloof demeanor. Compared to a hoof, knee, or even his entire leg or haunch, which Sombra said he was much better with working with, his chest was very hard to manage.

In the present moment, I had only a weak smile to give and gladly turned away as Sombra removed the ax, though he insisted it would not be a gruesome sight at all. I still thought he would want some privacy and should be treated respectfully, regardless of all the grim carnage I have seen in my life. When he was done, he wordlessly passed the blade to me while sheathing his own. Each was covered in small specks of blood here and there, nothing that could qualify as much past spatter. Both of us had many small cuts here and there - most were not deep enough to draw more than a line of blood, like the thinnest streak from a red inked pen, but Sombra had a rather deep cut on his cheek that while not threatening, still bled a bit.

He makes no effort to heal it, I noticed even as I teleported the weapons I had been using to a much more accessible location in my chosen cabin.

"Sombra, there's a cut on your cheek," I said, stepping closer to him. His complexion was back to normal and under his cloak his form appeared solid.

"Yeah, what about it?"

"Are you going to heal it? It's not very likely, but it could still be infected if you choose not to treat it."

He puts a hoof to his face, pulling it away to inspect the blood on his boots. "I guess it could."

I decide to use the pause that follows his statement to check the dusk sky and raise the moon as the sun is lowered by my sister. Even this far away, I know she is safe in Canterlot as we continue our routine. This may be quite the adventure - one I would not trade for the duty she now bears in this dire time - but I still wished there could have been a brief farewell between us.

"...Luna?" Sombra asks, catching my attention once more, his tone hesitant and somewhat cautious.

"What is it Sombra?"

"Would you mind healing the cut?"

"Can you not do that yourself?"

"Being a demon means..." he pauses, looking away at the last word, his voice dropping, "...I have no ability to heal myself, but I am very knowledgeable when it comes to healing magic."

My horn glows with soft turquoise light that brushes over Sombra's cheek, mending not only the cut I spotted on his cheek, but a few scrapes I can see on one of his forelegs as well. "Might I inquire to why you have such skill in healing if you can't use it for yourself?"

"Onyx learned healing once he had me because he didn't think hurting ponies once was enough, he wanted to repair their rope of life so it was just a thread for them to cling to in desperation and agony before he killed them, whereas I was fascinated by healing."

"Sombra, I'm not sure if you agree with this comparison, but sometimes you and Onyx appear to be like two sides of a coin because of the way you talk about him."

"What does that have to do with what you asked?"

"It has to do with what I asked because unless you really feel compelled to talk about Onyx, please don't. It isn't because I don't want to listen, it's because I want to listen to things about you, Sombra."

"Why?" Sombra asks, and his confusion honestly hurts me, and maybe it hurts him too.

"Because," I say, pulling Sombra into a hug, "you two may be two sides of a coin, but Sombra, you're the only side that matters to me."

I feel him swallow, but he doesn't say anything. Even if he may not like hugs or any kind of contact with ponies, he probably needs one right now, because I think they mean something to him even though he might not know how to say it.

"Sombra," I whisper, "there's something I want to tell you. About Alicorns."

"I-"

"Would you come sit with me?"



...



We sit next to each other, with only a space big enough for a small foal to fit between us. I had draped my wing over Sombra's wither slightly and not at all subtly. He flinched when I did so I withdrew my wing, a bit disappointed at his rejection of such close contact, but it was understandable. This was probably too much for him and I don't think he appreciated a crazy mare like me hugging him every five minutes. He probably thinks I'm overly clingy.

"How much do you know about Alicorns?" I ask him, since figuring out what he does know is probably the best way to do this.

"Not enough," he answers quickly, and before I even need to ask for an explanation he's already giving one, "They're immortal equines, but not ponies, that are born into godhood that they need only to properly harness with age. Alicorns can survive in realms built on pure magic alone and are immune to many common forms of corruption. They are living examples of the benefits of immortality that mortal species can never maintain. Alicorns used to be numerous by the standards of immortal beings until... well, that's what you and I are going to find out."

"Anything else?"

"I'm educated enough about their culture so that I'm not as hopelessly stupid as the past generations of ponies that have lived in this modern age and all following the Collapse, but I'd be interested in learning more since they are one of the most important parts of history. I'm also aware that some of them had families which took on clan names that often described their collective domains. For example, Alicorns and all equine civilizations in the Eastern World answered to the Galaxias of the Everfree Kingdom. They were a foal-less couple and one of the many Alicorns to disappear in the Collapse of the Old World, seeing as they still haven't turned up yet and their domains seem to have sunken, as with most of the others."

"The Galaxias," I asked, puzzled, "what were their names? I know of no foal-less couples like that-"

"Well," Sombra interrupts, although I don't mind this one, "you were awfully young, so I wouldn't be surprised if you had forgotten something, and Alicorn foals were raised in seclusion until earning their marks, so I imagine that the information you would have had was limited. The King and Queen of the Everfree were Noctus of Wishes and Lumina-"

"-OF THE LIGHT!" I finish, yelling excitedly with a foalish grin upon my face, "Lumina and Noctus were the names of my mother and father, Celestia's too!"

Sombra's jaw is agape as he stares at me, I can see the shock on his face clearly in the dark. "...What?! You...a Galaxia? You and Celestia, of the highest order of the gods?! Secret heirs to entire continents worth of civilizations and you weren't even told your family name? How did you and your sister survi- never mind, that's a story for another time, isn't it?"

"I..." I'm not sure what to say, and just nod slowly since I can't think of anything else to do "...yes? Do go on, Sombra. Please?" I finish hopefully, smiling wide, a giddy, nervous feeling starting to form in my stomach.

He gives me a strange look, well, strange for him. It's outright pity, a look I've usually seen reserved for naive foals that Sombra has managed to make less pathetic. "You were born into a world doomed to fall only centuries later, and were never told of even your complete identity, and that was something I always had. I was created knowing I was a demon, and yet, here I am having memorized the contents of books that no longer exist and giving you meager summaries of a world even I'm not fully educated on..."

"Sombra? Are you...?"

"You've never even heard your history and barely understand all you've lost and I just give you footnotes of your heritage that you treat like treasure... Luna ...no, Luna Galaxia; High Princess Luna Galaxia of the Everfree Kingdom in the now lost empire of Alicornia... do you know how horrible this feels for me? Being unable to help you or even show you anything about what you've lost?"

"Sombra, you won't feel guilty after what I tell you."

He still gives me his look of concern, red eyes still fiery even in the darkness, only the concern he shows at my words makes them look warmer - but also curious.

"We both know - to some extent, from some experience - how powerful knowledge is. What I am about to to tell you could endanger you as the very content endangers both myself and every other Alicorn to have lived..."

I gesture with my hoof for him to lean forward as I trail off with the last few syllables. His eyes flicker quizzically, not recognizing the sign so I startle him by leaning over to him instead, as close to him as I was 1,101 years ago and whisper in his ear.

I tell him of the tameness of every death he has ever seen when compared to what I am about to say, and use my free hoof that does not shield my words from everypony that isn't here to pull him even closer and note that he seems to express both less and more discomfort being so close to me... but that's not important right now, nor could I think of a way explain this even if it was my focus.

I continue my act of bravery in trusting Sombra with something I know that no Alicorn ever told a mortal soul, much less an immortal demon.

I whisper about the spell - to Celestia and I in our youngest days, The Spell, upon first being told - a type of magic that was no spell at all, for it knew no method that one could hope to transcribe.  It is how to break an Alicorn, a fate worse than death. It is when a god's mind has been warped to the point that they are beyond, mercy, beyond hope, and so far from salvation and themselves. To be in this state they must be put through torturous and horrid things that I could not imagine, and Sombra who unfortunately has some knowledge on the subject of torture, shudders at when I speak of how enacting violations on an Alicorn can drive them to The Spell. This is how Alicorns give up on eternity.

This is the easiest and the hardest spell for an Alicorn to perform, the only release from the world and the only way to give in that comes from looking in at whatever seals our souls to our bodies - which is part of what makes us so powerful and part of why our manes flow, as our bodies our not just careless mortal shells - and rip that energy more powerful than any known force, including the stars themselves, that ties us with our replaceable physical forms and our souls and even our domains with a rip that is the greatest tragedy we can bring upon ourselves as gods.

It is not something we can ever be forced to do, even with the twisted magic of the dark knowledge that gives birth to great monsters and the fine enigma that is Sombra. 

From me, he learns of how domains will collapse or fall to imperfection if their god does not exist any longer. Next, I tell him about how there is not afterlife for us, nothing at all for an Alicorn who breaks and how trying to contain one of our souls in a dead world after we go through our deepest sadness and the horrid pain of breaking wouldn't work. Our souls are so powerful in nature that the dead world would be terminated and any souls in it, dispelled while the connected worlds would be wiped out.

Then I hear myself telling Sombra how I'm scared. I'm scared that my family knew oblivion, that I'll never see them and that the Alicorns are gone, and I'm the last of my kind to have ever been born in this world. I don't want this to happen to me. Or Celestia. Or even Tuna.

I tell him to be happy that he's so lucky that he'll never break, no matter what happens there will never be oblivion for him, and he deserves the immortality he has because he's a truly wonderful pony.

After that, I feel cold and I don't know why. I don't mind either the heat or the cold, but now it's so frighteningly chilly on this small airship that drifts across a small world to what I never want to be our doom. I'm shivering and it's freezing, like a tomb. My throat hurts.

Without a word between us, he lets me wrap a wing around him and he doesn't complain or give me any looks when I scoot closer to him. Despite his frosty demeanor - which I actually like - Sombra is far from cold and heartless.

"Sombra?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

"For what, Luna?"

"For listening. For being honest. For being dragged into this."

"No problem. That's a lot of 'fors'. You sure that you didn't leave anything out?"

"Thank you for everything," I say and lean over to plant a kiss on his cheek, to which - without any surprise - he flushes at.

"L-Luna...!" he sputters.

"Sorry, was it too much?"

"I-I..."

"I promise I won't do it again."

"No!" he nearly shouts, shifting slightly, and I can't help but think he sounds irate because of his volume.

"What? Sombra, what's wrong?"

He looks away, at the stars shining in the clear, dark sky. "Never mind, I was just thinking about something else."

Is he sad? He does sound a bit melancholy, but that's not unusual for him. "Was it important?"

"Probably not."

With that we both resume our usual silence for a while, before I look at the stars as well, and remember something I have yet to tell him.

"Sombra, do you know anything about the constellations?"

"Do you mean those replacement patterns for the old star maps that merely charted everything?"

"Yes. I came up with each and every one of them when I was very small and drew them often, usually in the dirt with a stick. I used them to navigate and was too young to understand maps for the sky, which had been forgotten in the Collapse. My patterns and stories from travelling time with Tia and diary doodles from my time at the Magicspire suddenly became very relevant. When Equestria was formed, a select few ponies actually wanted to chart the stars and used my method to use them - the one with the animals and ponies, like Orion, the warrior stallion. Nopony was educated enough to make star charts yet, and fewer were educated at all. We did not even have telescopes then, for the Collapse had robbed us of the devices I remember, so ponies had only their naked eyes to look upon the stars. Today, all telescopes have root in the memories I relayed to crafters when this nation was young."

Sombra's eyes looked bright with each shred of detail that reached his ears, which had an attentive perk to them. This was certainly not something I was used to seeing from ponies. "There's stories behind them?"

"Yes, I came up with them when I was a filly and told them to my sister, because her stories are terrible. They were always about princess and princes. Could I tell you any of my stories for the stars?"

"Yes, they sound strange enough to catch my attention, but before you do, I want to tell you something. About stars."

I gave him an encouraging smile, but to my dismay, his eyes could not fool me, as they only looked sadder under the dark sky where the Sky Scraper drifted. 

"I used to count stars. I was usually only in control completely at night because Onyx thought the night was boring. I never really went outside, but there was this balcony and I'd watch the sky each night and count them over and over again, each time the stars would be something different. A reason I was better than Onyx was one, that was always a popular ritual with me. I never had anything to call my own then, as my own mind was shared but I always had the stars. Nopony could steal them, just like how nopony could steal my pride." His eyes have something sad shining in them briefly as he adds, "No matter what happened to me."

I have to swallow a lump of something bittersweet before I continued. It was so flattering and inspiring to know that even then, my night which was ignored and even insulted in Equestria at the time, had helped somepony - and not just anypony either, but a pony I've grown to care about.

"I think you shall like the story of Perseus..."
> Chapter 14: Red Thread of Fate
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Luna:


Over the Sky Scraper's rail the ocean's surface was in plain view. The top of the water sparkled with large patches of fading moonlight from the moon I was carefully lowering. The stars dimmed in the sky, making way for my sister's dawn. Her sun's light - which would appear soon - would warm the once mysterious and enchanting looking waters so they appeared as blue or gray as usual.

Blue, calm and serenading, was the most likely of the two sides of the ocean, as the weather was unusually clear. That meant Sombra and I were bound to blink and mutter a few mild complaints about the light before stubbornly adjusting to the brightness of this morning.

Tia would be fetching her morning coffee right about now, I remind myself, muzzle wrinkling at the mention of her favored morning beverage. At least I won't being smelling cream and coffee out here, a thousand miles away. I have never been fond of the smell of black coffee, but the cream Tia uses in hers is particularly unbearable and I cannot stop teasing her about it whenever I get the chance. It seems the centuries have taught ponies of the many ways to make the foul liquid even fouler, as well as more common. It used to be a delicacy for my sister and everypony else a thousand years ago.

Upon finishing, I step back to admire my latest lowering of the moon. Usually, I would return to steering right after this while Sombra would retire to his quarters to either pursue his own interests, talk to Fish about calculus with more patience than I originally believed he would hold for such one-sided conversations, or presumably sleep. I can't really complain much about his solitary nature, since it really doesn't bother me and I'm very much the same. It's just so nice to have somepony to talk to, and so often as well.

Luckily, I was able to persuade him to stay up for the practical purpose of discussing the change in course and just maybe, he'd let me 'hang out' with him after that. I have to hold back a smile, since while it isn't much of trickery, I don't think he'd be to keen with me doing something he might see as a waste of time. I'm trying to be his friend as well, but I still have yet to ask him if he wants to be mine.

To distract myself, I summon a strong breeze that should keep well for a few hours, blowing the low-flying Sky Scraper along. I then turn around to face Sombra and Fish. The former watched the sky with curious stare.

"What do you think of this one?" I ask, pointing a hoof towards the dawn sky.

Sombra, whose eyes marked with slight traces of sleeplessness and weren't high enough to see the dawn, looks up at the sky with a critical, slightly grumpy, and impatient squint that he must have acquired from reading through all of yesterday. Next to him, Fish bobs happily in a bubble that floats at around the height of Sombra's withers.

"Five out of ten. The sun won't go back down."

"Oh? That's three points less than yesterday's sunrise."

"The sun keeps coming back."

"Yes, it does Sombra. It's supposed to do that."

"I blame Celestia."

"Why blame her for bringing forth the day?"

"The same way I blame your sister for a lot of other things," he adds with a soft growl, which from my time with him I learned was his equivalent of adding a 'hmph' or some other sound at the end of his remarks. Sometimes, he'd snort or make a faint 'tch' sound when he's mocking something but he usually growls briefly, somewhere in the back of his throat. It makes him sound like a cat.

I don't think he realizes how cute it can be, and I hope he doesn't, as he'd probably be mad upon being viewed as anything other than how he actually is, and I doubt he finds himself cute. I really can't blame him either, if I had my name as warped and slandered as he has. I just wish that he would let me, as the alternative of him listening while I tried to explain...

...no. I conclude with a slight shiver. It would not being lying to him to not mention something he's unlikely to suspect and if he were to find out I could always just tell him I didn't want to talk about it, which would be honest and a response he could probably respect despite all the irritation that was sure to follow on his part.

Sombra notes something in my expression and before he can say anything, I ask him a question of my own.

"Just why do you have such a strong hatred for my sister?"

He looks me up and down, there's an irritated tch in the back of his throat. "I could answer that."

"But you won't."

Sombra offers no response other than a slightly devious look, which vanishes when he encircles Fish's bubble with a teleportation spell.

"So what are those plans you were going to tell me?"



...



I had known Sombra for a little over two months and one of the first things I learned about him was unlike most ponies, he was not one for food. I knew not what he would consume, or if he ever consumed any kind of edible substances now that he was immortal.

But if there was one thing Sombra devoured it was knowledge. Any fact that was said around him, Sombra had most likely memorized. He didn't appear to act like it - not unless you knew what to look for - but he paid attention to everything that was said or done around him. I recall, both from firsthoof experience and a few things I've heard about Sombra in the sea of rumors and falsehoods surrounding him that Sombra is exceptional when it comes to wordplay and twisting one's speech against them.

He showed this ability to be a particularly strong one when I had brought out as many maps as possible from the navigator's office. Many of them did not meet his standards and after making a few intriguing, yet bizarre remarks that sassed the maps he explained that the Crystal Empire had maps that were stored in crystal prisms. These prisms were exactly like the one Celestia tucked behind the throne for all these years, and were only printed from prism to paper by the - as he put it - 'least idiotic lot of them with unicorn blood even though they're all-'

And then he proceeded to spew out the most horrifyingly well-crafted vulgarities to the Crystalline subjects. They were positively poisonous and if he had honestly overstepped a few more boundaries then I might have considered using a minor memory charm on myself because by all that the crystal ponies held sacred. Sombra might as well be the god of insults, for he understands that the best insult of all is simply the truth one would expect from a friend coming out of an enemy's mouth. Though, he's clearly proven himself capable of being crass. I took him to be purely witty, and I can admit there's an odd understanding to even that aspect of his words. What can I expect from the stallion who hears everything?

I cleared my throat slightly and rolled out the last map, which depicted the eastern shores of the southernmost country of the southern continent: Germaneigh.

Sombra, thankfully did not even mention his previous rant and examined the puzzle-piece collage of maps that I laid out between us.

Stars above, that stallion can make Tribal-era slurs sound like golden wit, I thought with a slight shudder, which certainly contrasted with my smile I hadn't realized I still was giving him.

"You really despise the crystal ponies, hmm?"

His mouth twitched slightly, sinking into a more warped version of his usual mild frown, so my demon companion now scowled at me. 

"They're hypocrites," he snarled, "they say that my actions define me, when those martyr complex plagued fools don't realize how much worse it could have been for them and what was right under their muzzles all along. One day, I want them to get a taste of their own words when they realize that they will never be free of their actions."

"I'm sorry," I say, and it wasn't a flat apology either. I really was sorry for what he went through, and though he'll probably not do so, I'd love for him to open up a bit more to me so I won't just have to give him the sincerest of apologies alone.

Looking at him after I do hurts when I see how stoic his expression usually remains while his eyes betray everything. He looks like he really does want to say something. When he looks at the maps like nothing is wrong is he giving up? Or is he trying to shield himself from being hurt again? 

Does Sombra know that I know that is what he fears most? 

Sombra is so much more special than he realizes. Unlike so many who are content to toil in the day and let hollow fantasies whisper to them at night and sing their siren song, Sombra has blurred the lines between them. He has dreams, true dreams that he will use as both a weapon and a shield so he might live, truly live. I have never met a dreamer like him, who fights so, even among others who have intriguing and powerful dreams. Yet the reverse to the hopes of any dreamer is their fears, lurking in the shadows and pulling just as many strings. And these are strings that only a few, like him and I wield ourselves, as its counterpart. They may be so much harder for those who are awake to see, but lurking behind each ambition is something else entwined with it.

I know.

"There is going to be a change in course, now that we have obtained information from Neptune we know that we must head west."

There, a simple fact and a preamble of a topic-changer.

"In what way will we need to change our course? Wasn't the whole point of going to Neptune so we could find out where we're supposed to go? We only got a hint, Luna."

"That is true, which is why I have another location in mind, one that will be able to show us more."

"And that might be?"

"An island somewhere in the southern reaches of the oceans. I haven't been there in ages, but I know that there's no colonies on it or anything else. There is no map that should have it marked, or at least none that is known to the public. This island lies off Germaneigh's coast and it should be exactly as I remember, only older, of course."

"We're all older. Except me."

"Why are you the exception?"

"I look too good to be old."

"And I don't?"

Sombra paled. "W-Well, you see, I never said that and-"

And then the sea serpent happened.



...



It was a fearsome beast that certainly didn't take kindly to the low-gliding airship. It surfaced violently, trying to knock us into the water. It didn't work since Sombra and I certainly knew how to face any kind of danger. He certainly looked more startled, if only momentarily, by the sight of the beast than I, as I know he holds some ability to sense living things and their truest natures. 

The creature was a dark green-blue, her scales bearing the slight gray tints of age and marks, like cuts down her thick scales indicating experience tangling with ships. I knew her to be female from experience due to the past encounters where I learned that males had more colorful scales.

These kinds of serpents - monstrous and strong creatures with fangs as long as I am tall - are found only in the seas surrounding the borders of the modern nation Mustainia, in a region where only the toughest ships dared sail in ancient days before even I walked this world. They preyed on what few ships dare cross these waters and were usually vicious enough that Equestria required all sailors who went on routes in this water to either have a fully trained battlemage for every three ponies, or for each crew member to have some degree of naval training rather than having them as civilians, however weathered.

Mortals could end up as fodder to one of the more common varieties. I was pleased to observe that this one bore a somewhat sleeker form than most of the others I've tangled with, which means that while she should prove to be a nuisance at most. At with her form, she isn't going to breathe fire, for I do not see the anatomical marks of a fire-breather upon her.

Those ones can be quite the challenge, and while I'd love to tangle with one in a glorious brawl any other day, I had a ship to manage and hoped to leave waters near any shore without much trouble. The last thing I wanted was to near the waters of a country I had no intention of communicating with. Mustainia had a nasty habit of being the only country in the Eastern World electing rulers, which is a silly thing on its own. While none of them were terrible, they rarely proved to be skillful under almost all circumstances. I would say they were certainly shining examples of Sombra's life philosophy: placid, incompetent, and often repetitive and shackled to popular expectations over what is best for their land. I would not say they are truly antagonistic or beneficial. The rulers of Mustainina had never been ponies worth much time, as their history - which I had to catch up on during my return - proved to simply be a list of dates when ponies left and entered the office of the friendly, yet sparsely populated land.

She, the serpent irate, paused in her rampage, dark eyes staring down at Sombra and I, about to roar her challenge to us, not knowing - or perhaps not caring - that she had just crossed two immortals.

I took flight before she would even have the chance to offer her battle cry, which was now drowned out by mine as I flew towards the serpent with a burst of speed that only the fastest pegasai and the ascended could come close to attaining. Sombra briefly struggled to gain balance as the entire ship shifted and almost careened into the water from my movement.

Behind me, a streak of white-hot light edged with the palest traces of crisp blue was like a bold streak of paint on the canvas of battle that led to my ever-shifting location. The light of my horn caused streaks of turquoise bleed into the magical discharge to make the flowing force even more chaotic and furious.

I slammed into the lower neck of the beast, hearing her roar as light screeched and smoke from the damage I inflicted on her scales blinded her. I had struck an unfortunately brittle patch that caused the limbless beast's own broken armor to pierce the topmost layers of soft flesh. While it was not reduced to ashes, as careless displays of higher amounts of my power could result in, this beast had certainly suffered greatly from this comparably mild demonstration.

Across my right side, I feel spots of warm blood across my coat. Warm streaks and patches along my cheek were concentrated most heavily around my withers and neck before running in still-dripping streams that ran in stripes across my foreleg.

I spare only a moment to catch my breath, eyes darting about rapidly as I retreat to a short distance. There, I will be out of the creature's reach. I do hope that the wound I inflicted was enough for her to get an idea to retreat, or else I would not allow it the same mercy the next time.

Magic found its way onto my horn as I automatically began to ready my next move, my combat instincts a like steady tick, tick, tick in my head.

Back on the deck of the Sky Scraper, I could see that Sombra had managed to save most of the maps, poofing them away with a quick spell before leaping onto the rail and balancing there, focusing dark aura on his horn while the same magic took form in his eyes.

The serpent reeled, eyes shining with primal fury as it looked at us, I who dripped with hot scarlet from its own broken skin and Sombra who would not be much kinder if she did not flee.

She lunged in his direction and Sombra's magic enveloped the Sky Scraper's entirety teleporting it directly above the water flew above. A creeping shield of dark flame found its way across each part of the airship until it fit its form exactly.

The beast bellowed with rage upon not seizing Sombra, who cast another spell - although I was unable to see it from here, as I was charging into battle once more. Even though this creature had attacked my friend, I would offer it one last chance to flee before I held back this mercy once and for all.

"Luna!" Sombra called from where was far below. "I've got this one!"

I look down just fast enough to see Sombra. The function of the spell I had seen him cast earlier was now revealed: he had jumped off the deck and was now standing on the surface of the water. Quic- err, Fate was unsheathed and held at his side at an angle that allowed the red crystal veins running across it to sparkle in the morning light, like mysterious glittering wealth. I know that part of his sword had come from the Alicorn Amulet.

I grumble at the mid-fight interruption and before I pull out with a barrel roll, the trail of energy that followed me dying in an instant. "She's all yours!"

As I loop downward and fly past Sombra, I'm able to see that wonderfully cocky smirk of his warped into a more insane, reckless-looking version of it's usual self, with the left side of his fangs flashing wickedly so they matched the madness dancing in his eyes.

I land cleanly on the ship's deck, stoically standing amidst the cloak of fire that shields the thing from harm. Inside, I eagerly await to see Sombra's course of action since I have yet to see a water-walking demon take down such a reptile.

He charges, proving to be very agile when needed and when he gets close enough, he sheathes Fate and leaps up, shifting to shadow before I would have time to fully blink.

I watch as he encircles the confused serpent, swirling up the scaly body until he reforms on top of her head.

She, the great best of the sea, feels his hoofsteps and tries to rear her head, roaring and hoping he'll fall off, twisting and wanting to devour him. 

Sombra does not fall, he uses his own magic to help hold him there, until she stops, frustrated. Sombra remains, appearing only slightly unbalanced. Fate is whipped out of its sheath and raised above the weakest spot on the back of the beast's skull.

She feels him there, dark eyes wide, she thrashes again, threatening to dive under the waves. This time, Sombra does fall, and as he falls, I take flight once more.

The blade of Fate is all he has, and in the moment, as I fly toward him, he digs it into the topmost part of the scales. While they are too tough to rip off entirely, his sword - which was gripped tightly in his forehooves - slid through some of them, slicing off pieces and ripping crooked gashes that caused the beast great pain that she never bothered to conceal. Her cries rang out more and more, louder and louder. 

I flew faster, so it appeared I moved in a blink of light - like a firefly winking out - from the Sky Scraper to him.

He certainly looked a bit startled. His eyes showed signs of shock, the inferno they held was now just sparks, sputtering in the light as he blinked, which explained why he hadn't teleported or done anything. His hooves gripped the hilt for dear life, his armored boots melded to it with a hasty spell so it could be gripped better.

We were only a few feet away from that wound I had made earlier and I didn't want to see him try to hold on once his sword could no longer be tangled in scales. I tried to grab him by wrapping my forehooves right under his withers and pulling both him and Fate away from the furious creature.

Which turned out to be a horrible move. Sombra was not exactly in a good mood and wasn't used to any form of physical contact with ponies - much less being grabbed by a crazy blood-drenched goddess - and didn't appear to like being spooked one bit. In what I imagine must be instinct for him, he began to dissolve into his shadow form rapidly.

And I was still trying to hold him and lift him up, which led to me finding out then when Sombra does this anything in extremely close contact with him that remained external of himself, like his sword, would follow one of two paths: either it would dissolve with him or he'd unwillingly end up almost possessing it.

I was apparently included in the latter. I don't think he meant to do this, I really don't but that didn't change the creeping sensation of there being another mind somewhere with my own and shadow crawling through me. I put up the strongest mental block I knew, a wall to surround an already difficult to have mind. He already had a comparably strong barrier around his own mind, which ended up clashing with mine.

Half-possessed, half-shadow, the both of us screamed. My own voice broke with hints of Sombra's somewhere in there and I blinked away what felt like horrid vertigo but was anything but that. Around us, the sea serpent roared with the unearthly echo of the demon-cries that Sombra's shadow form could make and there was a violent sensation of whiplash as he withdrew with I was able to identify as panic, reforming in my hooves as the equine I knew him as. His whole form was shuddering and his bracer-like boots, no longer gripped as strongly around the hilt clacked violently.

Then he let go, and in my horror-struck daze where I was left with a burning fever-like feel I could do nothing but watch as my legs hung limp in the air, my wings only dully flapping as magic fizzled a few times as it tried to ignite of my horn.

Still, through this haze I was able to see a crystal - not gray as I am used to and just as peculiar as the pony who made them -  a vibrant shard of red, as though it sprang from the specks of blood itself.

Attached to it was the thinnest string of crimson light. A momentary weak, dazed half-smile clumsily worked its way across my face.

The fire has returned.



...



That string was bound to a very crafty demon, the thinnest thread to loop around him and still manage to support his form with the power it held, and a single anchoring crystal that looked so much like the ones on Fate - and maybe it was.

I had returned to the Sky Scraper's deck as quickly as I could, this battle was Sombra's and I was not about to squander energy on healing such a minor condition when Sombra is bound to return with a worse injury that will need healed.

Until then, I was fine with watching from a distance while my head cleared and we could continue our journey.

In the moments I had left the oceanic battlefield, Sombra had located the burns I had inflicted and it would only be a matter of time before the snappy beast clashed with the snarky demon and tried to gobble him up. By then I imagined my legs would no longer be able to hold my tired form up, although it hadn't been the light combat or the meager show of magic I had done that made me feel drained and clouded my mind.

I shuddered again. That experience was one that could only be described as haunting, the feeling of be possessed, even a little was disturbing. I wouldn't want to be too close to Sombra for a few days after this, just to shake this uncomfortable feeling off.

I felt the angry waters stir and knock the Sky Scraper's underside, rocking it back and forth.

Sombra drove Fate right into the raw, descaled flesh of the creature, somehow being able to withstand the howls from his close range while even my ears rang with the sound no matter how hard I pressed my hooves over them.

I sat now, on the deck empty of all but me, watching as a blood-drenched piece of metal was pulled out with his magic. Sombra glanced at it, almost looking - at least at what I could glean from here - unsatisfied with the more than generous amount of gore that coated the usually smooth silver surface.

He drove it in again, and my hooves flew to my ears at the howl. What did he think he was doing? If he continued like this, I'd end the serpent myself, or Tartarus, I'd heal the poor creature and send it to sleep under the sea to spare it such a cruelty. I had hoped that Sombra would be above such brutality. In our spar he mentioned that while he didn't mind taunting and playing with a foe, he did not torture those he planned to slay, as Onyx had. Instead, he preferred to go for blows that made it much easier - and faster - to dispose of an enemy.

'Unless it's personal,' he had added, 'because if it were I'd make them suffer above all else so that even Tartarus cannot be viewed as a mercy.'

There is nothing personal here and if nothing is done to show me his is doing anything other than assaulting a creature that would much rather flee, then I will intervene myself.

I was too far away to hear anything but I could see that Sombra's horn was glowing the brightest red and that it looked like he was muttering something to himself.

One blink later the entire sea serpent was nothing more than a scaled hide with crystals a truer red than any ruby tearing through from the inside out, clotting and crystallizing where more blood would have poured forth and bearing what drops did as if it was a macabre sort of dew.

Sombra teleported away before the corpse of the colossus fell into the ocean, flopping backward into it's watery grave.

"This was far from a clean death," I mumbled, head down, swaying with leftover nausea at the thought of his shadow form...

Sombra sheathes Fate, and I can see the crystal veins on it glow as brightly as his aura had when he drove the sword in. 

Veins filled with blood, I thought realizing that the what kind of dark magic the crystals were for: blood magic, which drove the minds of those  who wielded an ever-vanishing amulet to harm those around them for the sight of blood. It's almost surprising Onyx had never used it.

My jaw twitched at the name, pity welling up for Sombra. If he's looked at modern history - which I believe he has - he'll see that those who became embroiled in this magic were called inaccurately called demons. 

There is a dull ache in my head as I remember how I never would have any reaction to this before. 'Demon' had always been such a hollow term for me, just another thing that the ponies of old would cry in a mob, a lesser cousin to 'witch' - one I had become used to in my past, as had a good deal of innocent mares and fillies who had died for their unusual but not harmful magics - but 'demon' was different. It was like a dusty mantle trinket: always there but never getting much attention from myself. It didn't sting.

But now 'demon' meant something.

Sombra rests a forehoof as crimson as his cloak on my wither gingerly, no doubt still holding some kind of nervousness at our last encounter, which I imagine was quite traumatic for him.

"It didn't suffer as long as you think, Luna. I'm not that cruel, I just wanted to see if it worked."

I didn't say anything, only giving an awkward bow of my head to show I believed him before stumbling and collapsing - right into him.

He steadied me with his forehooves even though he had almost fallen over. I heard my heart's beat skip at my exhaustion before resuming as normal for my current condition. I felt Sombra's too as I drifted into sleep. For a moment it almost felt like that tiny skip and my own addled mind made it sound as if they beat as one under our filthy, soon to be matted coats.

Yes, 'demon' does mean something now and it's not the evil others say it is.

It meant him, Sombra.

My friend.
> Chapter 15: Letters Filled with Doubt
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------



Dear Cadance,

You are probably looking at this letter and wondering why it is I writing to you instead of Sombra. You see, I imagine Sombra has filled you in on quite a bit of what has been going on, and that you have been able to figure out some of it for yourself. I do not request your help in a manner that would require you to seek us out or pursue through shelves of books and reading each, cover to cover, for the keys to ciphers.

I only ask that you read this and think of me not as your aunt, which Celestia insists I am even if I think of you much more like a cousin, but as a temporary Princess of Friendship and the friendly, bubbly young mare who swept me out of the stress surrounding the gala when I first returned and spent the night laughing with me and poring over plays and talking to me when I spoke little.

I need not write to Celestia or Twilight to know that the former has always recruited the ever-loyal (perhaps even blindly so, at times) latter to whatever cause she has that would lead to Twilight unknowingly betraying both the world and I, if I were to write to her. Plus, I am most sure that she would not believe what I am about to write to you.

The day before yesterday, Sombra and I fought a creature of the sea and slayed it. (Cadance, you need only write to me if you need something explained. Just do not expect me to give up our exact location, as I must keep some information solely on the ship). The night after that he mentioned that he had been writing to you, and that he trusted you as a friend (not in those words but I can understand Sombra quite well, I think). While he revealed no previous letters as proof (if he kept them, I do not know) he did speak as highly of you as I've heard him speak of another pony.

Hours later, we ended up fighting. It was over Celestia, my dear sister. I understand and can sympathize with Sombra disliking (well, 'loathe' is a much better term) her, and support his desire to speak his mind, but Sombra truly despises her and whatever quarrel between them is personal, if my sister is even aware of it. As long as he does not physical harm or slander my sister by overstepping any lines, then I will tolerate a few insults or harsh criticisms, because even in my darkest days I thought a few similar things.

He didn't listen to me when I told him that Celestia has had a hard life too, and strives to become a better pony. It went to the point where his words became so heated it almost felt like Tia herself was arguing back and making him angrier...

Then he called her a tyrant and almost started screaming about how she treated me. Which was embarrassing, I think. I lack the words to describe how I felt at the fact that he observed this second-hoof. He has some of Onyx's memories, and it is quite clear he formed his own thoughts on them, almost as if he were watching one of those picture-films you like. I do hope that you recognize that name. It is from these memories that he has concluded my sister is cruel.

I lost it at this (some of it is very personal, I do not wish to go into it) and I struck him.

And the worst part is I meant to.

I'm not sure how much you know about Sombra's early life. Without telling the details of information he has proved very unwilling to share, I will put this very lightly and say that Sombra has had a hard life like Celestia and I. And one that has forced him to endure a lot of abuse, and the ordeal was more direct and prolonged than anything Tia and I have faced.

But I don't want to write about that...

I struck him with my forehoof right in his jaw, without holding much back. I had to heal a fracture while he held two teeth I had knocked clean out in his forehoof. What really made me feel guilty was that I was still mad at him - openly - for insulting Tia. Yet, I couldn't stop apologizing to him. Once I had healed him, he just stared at me somewhat coldly (surprisingly no colder than normal, which made me think he was going to try to get revenge) and said that he's been through worse. I think he was scared when he said it. I truly didn't mean to scare him!

He's been through worse than being struck by a goddess.

It hurts to know that.

He walked away saying that we needed to take a break from each other, which might be a very underhoofed way of saying he hates me.

He's missing two teeth on his left side now. If he were to smirk, I'm sure I'd be able to glimpse a bit of the gap from this but he hasn't smirked at all lately. I haven't seen him and I don't think he knows how sorry I am.

You see, I want more than ever to be Sombra's friend, if he'll let me. I'm not sure how much you know about him, but Sombra's actually a great pony. He's smart, funny, and insightful, for example. He's very introspective and his lack of overt friendliness - no offense to you - is very... magnetic. I think that is the best term. Him not being a conventionally friendly bleh-inducing bucket of sunshine like some ponies (not you, just some ponies!) makes him feel friendlier and quite refreshing to be around.

He'd be my first friend ever, and the closest I've felt to anypony, almost like family, but not quite, yes? You're my friend, but also something so much like family. Tia formally adopted you, and I am glad to call you kin, and kin I can call agreeable. For Sombra, things are different. He has no relation of any kind to me.

I just don't know how to ask, and I'm not even sure if he wants to be my friend. After this, I feel it is so much more unlikely. He's so reclusive - which is part of why I like him - but that also might not mean he wants me as a friend.

Any advice?

- Luna

P.S. Please give Tia an extra 'hello' when you see her. I hope she's alright.





...





Dear Auntie/Cousin?/Okay Auntie-Again Luna,

I like to call you Auntie sometimes, okay? There's totally absolutely no reason for it, except maybe there is. Okay, I don't actually know.

First: I'm the Princess of Love, so asking me to help with friendship despite me having plenty of friends is going to be odd. I'll probably mention that later.

Second: This letter you sent me is nice and dramatic, so I'm playing the best inspirational music for it. It's this awesome stuff I'd listen to whenever I used to jog around Canterlot, and it helps take my mind off the fact that I literally was thinking about poutine only moments before I got this. I'm going to die before I'm forty, but at least I can give you friendship advice before then! Hooray for cheerful thoughts about my death! It's probably Sombra's influence... or the end of the world approaching. 

Okay, I'm not going to make this a list anymore. I'm not going to become my friends and relatives. I'm not Twi. I'm not Sombra. I'm not Auntie.

Poutine is going to kill me. 

Now to be serious and help you solve your problem:

I do think that Sombra wants to be your friend, from what you have mentioned so far. I'm not seeing anything that tells me about things you dislike about him, and you seem to being interacting nicely from what Sombra's written.

And what has Sombra written? Well, he doesn't hate you and he never mentioned disdain or dislike of you, either.

Although he never mentioned that he'd like to be your friend in any of those exact words, he never said he wouldn't mind you being friendly with him. While you may or may not have the Sombra label of approval (does he have those?) and hey, maybe even I don't have one, I'd still say that you're probably going to get it at some point.

I do know a little bit about this Onyx character, but not much. Like, he was a genocidal sorcerer colt or something, who was from the Empire, and he created Sombra. He also hurt Sombra while they were in the Empire. Maybe before then? Not much else. I know a bit more about the place where he came from, but only because I'm friends with his sister, who stops by a lot to help me and Shiny uncover hidden rooms in this place. She's the only pony other than the guards who will.

Some of them are kinda scary, but the worst ones are hidden away with dark magic that I'm really not going to use again for a while. I'm not sure if I'm even strong enough. Why can't it ever be something nice, you know? I'm telling you if ice cream magic becomes the next worst thing in this world, I'll be cheering and crying tears of happiness because then the only adventure I'll have to go on will be to the nearest frozen treat shop.

I'll save the crystal ponies by eating all the ice cream.

I won't die of poutine, I'll die of ice cream instead.

Sorry, there's this whole impeding doom thing that's just really killing some of my usual cheerfulness, and making me think about ice cream and existential horror stuff at three in the morning. It's nuts.

But back to the point: I'm sure Sombra wouldn't mind being your friend. Although, it would help more if you sent a list of all the cool friends-to-be stuff you two have done through this little letter pocket dimension thing I now have (that took so long to make and is confusing as Tartarus). That way, I know what you've tried to far and how he's reacted. Things like that.

Don't worry about having to ask him to be your friend, either. It's pretty convenient that you two are taking 'a break from each other' as you said Sombra put it. This way you can think of what to say. And again, it's not about you asking, it's about what you're asking him. Make it count. But don't make the question too specific, since I've seen Sombra get mad at those, and questions that are too broad he'll talk his way out of...

...or they'll give him plenty of ways to respond.

But that's just my advice, and I'm the Princess of Love, not the Princess of Friendship or the Princess of Sombra-related Advice. (By the way, he hates black olives on pizza. Maybe that will be useful to you.)

Sincerely,

The Best Niece (in a completely non-arrogant way, that is)

P.S. I played Princess of Friendship for you but I, as the Princess of Love, want to know if my single auntie thinks Sombra is cute (unless you'd prefer a sassy mare instead of a sassy stallion) because I've been starved of lighthearted gossip here.

P.P.S. Auntie Celestia's been in Canterlot for a while and I haven't gotten any visits.





...




Dear Cadance,

Thank you for the cheerful and quirky letter, Cady. It certainly cheered me up, and I'm hoping that you don't worry too much. You're still safe in the Empire, after all.

I've attached the list you wanted to this slip of paper.

As for your question... Sombra is very quirky, which makes him a joy to be around. He has all these traits that I don't see often, or at least not in the way he expresses them, and they make it more intriguing to get to know him. I truly love talking with him!

It's part of why I'm worried about being his friend, since there's still so much I don't know about him that, as his friend, I imagine you do.

I really don't think he likes me very much. He spends a lot of time around me, but I don't think he'd view me as anything but a burden because he's so confident and it shows. I've rarely seen him doubt himself about anything, and when he does it appears to be for a reason external of himself. I don't have nearly as much faith in myself like he does, and maybe he would hold that against me. I'm fairly certain of it.

I don't think you're just asking if I think his quirks are cute, are you? Princess of Love, indeed!

Yet, even the Princess of Love knows that I'm not like... 'that'? I have little other way to put it.

- Luna





...





Dear Auntie Luna,

I know you're on a ship in the middle of the ocean leagues away from here, but please don't be so down. Could I send you something to cheer you up? Anything?

Also, I see that sneakiness of yours showing. I certainly wasn't asking you if his quirks alone were cute. Maybe a better way to ask this would be 'Do you have a crush on Sombra?'

I mean he's certainly smart (and a complete nutcase). He's also quiet at times, so I knew you two would be getting along. 

And as I'm browsing this list... jeez. It certainly seems like you have a crush on Sombra, or at least that's what the Princess of Love Cady is thinking.

The Princess of Friendship Cady? Her conclusion is that you need to seriously ask yourself if you do. Luna, I know that you can be a bit socially awkward, and that yes, you aren't going to love like most ponies. That is something I completely understand, but it's like you don't even realize he might think that you're flirting with him. As the Princess of LOVE it certainly looks like you LOVE Sombra, just from what I'm looking at. If this is how you'd treat a friend, then alright, but it just really doesn't look like that to me.

But the reactions of Sombra's that you listed - despite their brevity compared to your own - make it look like he's certainly friendly with you. Just ask him, okay? Find a proper moment when you think he'd be open to the discussion, and just ask him. He doesn't listen to me half the time (at least, I don't think he does) but it really looks as if he's been listening to you.

So, I guess you could say this ship is going steady...

Signed,

Best Niece





...





Dear Cadance,

What do you mean, with that last line? The ship hasn't been in anything except a minor scrape or two. The Sky Scraper is fine, though your concern is appreciated. 

Mi Amore Cadenza, I do not have that affection for Sombra. I mean...

Well...

Even if I did, Sombra is as solitary as one can get, if you understand what I'm implying. He is likely even more alone, in the regards of attraction, than...

And so am I and... well, it's confusing and nopony has

Even you said most ponies aren't like me, as if it weren't already as obvious as Twilight Sparkle's ascension.

I do not want to continue this discussion. I am not one for gossip and think that I have humored you enough.






...





Uncle Sombra,

How have you been? You haven't written in a while, and I heard that you got some teeth knocked out by Auntie Luna. I spent the last two days exchanging letters with her.

I await your letter with a bowl of poutine I dumped popcorn on and empty eyes as I stare at my questionable snack choice.

Why am I even eating this for breakfast?

I'm not even going to make it to the end of the world, huh?

Signed,

Mac the Best Niece





...





You certainly won't be making it to the end of the world, and most certainly not as Best Niece, if you don't send me a dish of poutine as soon as you get this letter. It's one of the few things I'll eat and have an opinion on other than 'this is food and eating is gross', or something of the sort. Send it without this 'popcorn' nonsense too.

Did you know that some creatures make gravy out of meat?! It's absolutely disgusting. I don't care if carnivores are meant to eat meat (blegh). Milk, eggs, and meat are absolutely awful, regardless of how often the first two are consumed. Remove the cheese, or I'll remove your future children from your life.

Pizza is the exception to this rule, as pizza is the true faith.

Poutine was one of the few things that I would eat in the Crystal Empire. I could make poutine myself, which aligned with the priority of survival easily. Even though I hated eating - and still generally do - I wouldn't mind the poutine that much. It's one of the few things I don't have any bad memories of, even though Onyx grew up gorging himself with it.

I did get two teeth knocked out, as you mentioned. If you send me the poutine (upgrade that to a week's supply for you, which is a few months for me, while you're at it) I'll send you the teeth, if you want them. Luna hit me in a brief fight we had. I wasn't mad at her - she looked like she was on the verge of tears when apologizing - but it wasn't something I was going to let go instantly.

The two of us have been in such close quarters for nearly three months and it's... well for me it's certainly been something else. Gods, even I need a break from ponies. As much as I hate to say it, I need a break from her before I loose it.

'How am I?' you ask.

Honestly, I'm not sure I've ever been so pressured outside of other events I don't care to ever mention again.

I haven't told her.

She's amazing, Mac, and I haven't told her. I don't think I can be around her any more, because this is utterly maddening and it's getting harder to be near her the more she... 

Did you know she kissed me?!

She keeps getting closer and closer to me. I have to wait for the right time to tell her what I think. About her. Her mane feels lovely. She's still so sorry about hitting me, and I want to hug her all over again.

Nopony has ever been sorry for hitting me before.

To no fault of her own she hasn't noticed anything at all, and even though I want to get closer to her too. But I can't, because I'm not going to be able to refrain from telling her if she keeps treating me like this. It's making me uncomfortable, to say the least. I especially don't want to push what she feels comfortable with. That would make me feel worse, her thinking I'm some sort of creep. Why would I even try to be overbearing with her? I can't fathom it, regardless of how I can be with others. She's never asked for any kind of contact with me, and that's all the reason to refrain from giving it as much as possible. She never said anything, and that's as good as a no to me. Keeping my distance works well for the both of us as we are right now. 

She's a delight to work and talk with, but I'm sure I've mentioned that before. 

Hugging her was wonderful, though.

You don't think that I'm creepy, do you? I've hardly ever been told anything else, but Luna finding me detestable is a prospect I dread.

I really don't want to stay away from her. Maybe you'll be able to help, and it isn't like I've never thought about Luna-

You know what? Read between the lines. This dreadful pen isn't exactly anything I can erase, so you'll have to.

-Sombra the Enigma

P.S. Writing this whole letter is making me nothing but uncomfortable, and that isn't something I don't really experience, not like this. I should burn it. I really should, but no I did not. This is going to crash and burn so horribly, isn't it? Don't answer that, I already know.

P.P.S Fine. I thought it over. I'm sending this under the impression you'll be tactful after I tried to sort a few thoughts out. A few dozen, really. Mostly about her. I need something other than a pen to write with. Maybe.





...





Dear Uncle Sombra,

As you can see, this letter is attached to a tub of poutine. Enjoy! 

Alright, about your distress... you're telling me to read between the lines, but you also try to kill ponies for not waiting for clues to solve all the mysteries surrounding you. I did see Twilight in the hospital, you know, and your temper is something to be feared. That's something I think you're actually somewhat proud of.

It's great that you're making progress with Luna and that you don't appear to be imposing your presence anywhere. You're really doing spectacular! I swear to the gods, Sombra, you're stand-off approach is actually kinda sweet. It's Very Not Creepy and you should keep it up! I never really took you as the type to initially be a quiet and admiring type. This is almost shy of you! 

I've also included some butterscotch candies for you to give to Luna whenever you two are talking again. They're her favorite candy, and I don't think that there's going to be any on that ship of yours.

Hehe, ship.

Back to serious matters. I don't think I can say outright what I think you're suggesting but I'm going to ask you if you know what the word 'asexual' means.

I'm entirely serious when I write 'please don't hurt me' here,

Hopefully Still Best Niece





...





Mac,

Of course I know what that word means, and you certainly exercised a decent amount of caution there. Interesting, but still a predictable course of action for you. Oh well, I doubt anypony in this world other than Luna will ever truly surprise me.

But yes, I know of that term. What of it? 

I can do little but speculate on why you brought up the topic. The only guess I can put forth is that you know somepony who is.

-Sombra the Enigma





...





Uncle Sombra,

I've been operating as your matchmaker wing-mare under the assumption (please don't kill me for assuming this) that you are asexual. Thus, you wouldn't mind being in close proximity to somepony, but perhaps despised contact with them or would be hesitant to do so yourself. Also, the big obvious point that I thought you wouldn't mind this because you didn't feel physical attraction anyway, at least based on my assumptions. 

You get me?

When I first met you, I had also assumed (there's that word again) that you were aromantic and didn't want anything to do with anypony beyond friend-stuff-maybe type things. That was until I found out that you were interested in Auntie Luna, and very romantically too! Then, I presumed you were something else, like maybe biromantic... or just anything more compatible with your attraction to her. I wasn't planning to ask otherwise, since I get letters from ponies all across Equestria asking for romantic advice and know ponies of all orientations, and because you're incredibly private as it is. This wouldn't be difficult for me to help you with, since I have faith in you, no matter what you are. You're my friend!

The weird part about being the Princess of Love is that everypony expects me to be pansexual when I'm the literal straight mare to your mad antics. 

Because of the way you spoke about certain things - and your solitary desires - I had assumed too much. I'm sorry about that. You reminded me of many of the ace ponies I've corresponded with, in that regard, and one in particular, who I know very well. I guess I know less about you than I realized.

Sincerely Sorry,

Worst Niece





...





Mac, I would have rather you assumed that I was asexual over other possibilities. The observations you must have made had some merit. You're not the worst niece, okay? You're still better than the purple abomination that bows to Celestia on cue, even if you are still the pink one. You can go back to slapping stickers on every letter you send now.

I'm honestly not sure what I am, though. I don't think that there is a word for it, regardless of how well I could describe this to a partner. There certainly wasn't a word when I last checked. Never in my life was I thinking of romance until after I had met your aunt. I have a love for myself, but it isn't nearly the same, and my great love for your aunt exceeds it by far.

This isn't something I am willing to be very open about either, so continue to tread carefully in what you ask me. Very carefully, I should say. I was referring to no platonic partner.

I probably could have passed as an aromantic asexual, as you've called them, for the first few 123 years of my life. I won't go into the matter, since you're not the princess to hear that. So, don't ask. Ever.

If you do, I will not hesitate to hurt you. Just accept this as a warning.

Really, I know everything about what I am, except for the name. It's a bit puzzling, but I've never had much of a reason to dwell on it. Centuries ago, it confused me, but now? I'm beyond questioning any part of my identity I can think of. Did you think my confidence was a fraud? I love whom I love, and I love Luna. I love her as a mare. I most certainly would love her as a stallion. Were Luna neither, I would still love Luna.

When I was unfortunate enough to live in the Crystal Empire, I read as many books as I could find, mostly the ones dealing with history, art, math, mechanics, physics, science, and magic. I read much on philosophy and assorted treatises, but none still exist. I didn't read much that would include the current subject, the closest I recall being flipping through books on the mind and culture. I can't say that it was a subject I ever paid much attention to, since I already understood various reasons ponies were attracted to one another. Although I, for many reasons you could find obvious never sympathized with this. I never cared whether they fell in love with a mare, stallion, or somepony who didn't identify as either, and all those lovely things that ponies spend fractions their lives obsessing over. 

I'm saying this to you because I want to make it clear that I don't retain any prejudices from the Tribal Era, even though this subject is nothing but an overblown mess to me, when I'm confident in myself.

Even I'm not sure what falsehoods about me have reached your ears. I'm not a bigoted fool like other historical figures.

Then, it didn't matter to me. I was as apathetic to that aspect of ponies, as I still am to majority of my surroundings. It barely matters to me now. Anything or pony external of Luna might as well not exist, since I care so little about them, though you can be very tolerable. There's just nothing to feel for anypony else.

Egh. Enough rambling on my part. I hate talking about that part of my life, and part of me loathes to tell you any of this. You aren't the right mare, and the words are a bit too raw to me when I write them here.

The only ones listed in the books I read were: asexual, bisexual, the one you mentioned being mistaken for, the one that received the most notable backlash from the Tribes, and the everyday one.

Are there any new terms for them? I haven't got a clue.

Out of all the ones listed there, I am only familiar with the second because of somepony close to me. Gods, he was such a mess, and I had to go into his mind in order to access information about him. Stupid minds are just the worst kind of mess. He hid this from Starswirl because he was, well, Starswirl. It certainly took a toll on him to the point he would deny it entirely the few times I asked about it, among other things.

Gods.

I inherited copies of all the things that kid ever thought, and gods that just made his mind a much worse one. In the Crystal Empire, nopony cared what he was in that regard, but he was too violent for anypony to love. Each filly or colt he thought was desirable in his own odd Onyx-like way was faced with his foolish, possessive, and immature infatuations. These mostly consisted of pulling others' manes, and then laughing at them. Even at that stage of his life, other foals knew enough to hate him, or run away because they knew what he would become, to some extent. Their mutual annoyed moods would clash, because even then that child sought the first foul pangs how he desired to own another. When he was older and under Starswirl's jurisdiction, those inner desires had begun to grow fairly violent, and it leaps and gallops this only increased. 

This was my inheritance, niece.

It was a sick, broken mind, Pink One. Out of everything you could refrain from asking me again, do not ask me about the mind of Onyx, because there is little I want to repeat.

There's so much to hate about him: the nature of his haphazard ambitions, his cruelty, and how he squandered his time on the worst of worldly things. Everything. He was shallow and dull-witted: if paint a rock gold and he'd think it was gold, if you speak of mares as a trophy, then he will lust for many. Appearances were all that mattered to him, and that's what was bound to deceive him.

But yes, I don't fit into any of the terms I listed above.

-Sombra the Enigma





...





Uncle Sombra,


I'm still Best Niece! Hooray! Sorry for such a short letter, I spent most of the time I use to write you letters scribbling down this list for you, so you can learn something about yourself via helpful charts. You were open enough to admit you already sorted your feelings, and just needed a name that sounded right, so hopefully this will help you start putting centuries of certainty into something you can communicate. To make up for this lack of words, I've sent you more poutine (and lied about eating it all myself so the kitchens think I'm a fat slob in those polite little Crystalline heads of theirs) and adorned this letter with many stickers. Plus, the attached list is written with glittery gel pens.

There is no escape from the bedazzled existence I live.

-Mac

P.S.  I promise that I won't ask you about Onyx. He sounds scary.





...





Yes, continue to make sacrifices to me! Pizza and poutine are certainly worthy of existing in the same world as I, but I think some glitter pens are in order, since I admit that they intrigue me greatly. Plus, I'm running out of books on the subject of dear old rationality, which isn't something that will go unremedied. I am certain that if somepony with a hypothetical sum of many bits from being the hypothetical ruler of a horrid (but completely hypothetical) empire were to go on a hypothetical shopping spree and lawfully purchase me good books the problem would be solved. We wouldn't want a (very, very non-hypothetically) dashing, lawless young stallion to hypothetically harm her loved ones, now do we?

You wouldn't want your favorite and fabulous uncle to be stuck in an airship (with a nifty pocket dimension from yours truly) with the most beautifully crazy mare in the world, and not have some decent reading material. Remember, I may be on a mission to become your uncle (I want to see you try and fail to come up with a better name for this trip) that also involves preserving this pedestal of a world, but nopony said that I would let you live in it, and even if they did I wouldn't listen.

Buy me nice things. Spoil me thoroughly. 

I'd also like your answer on when I should tell her, since there's no way I should try this without at least looking at a second opinion.

I think she's starting to think of me as a friend. That is something I don't want, and not for selfish reasons, I assure you. If she thinks of me as her friend then she'll only want me, and be comfortable with me, as a friend. I can never think of her that way, nor would I be able to endure the mind games I'd be playing on myself from being so close to her and unable to express any loving affection. Eventually, I could end up hurting us both by having to bury everything under half-truths. I would have to progressively distance myself from her, by my own efforts or the inevitable result of the games. Or, gods know I might cave into my own wants and trying to get closer to her when she has no idea that I'm drawn to the point where her very presence itself is addicting to me.

I can't bear to hurt her like that, nor can I bottle up emotions like this. I've never done anything like that to this extent before, never. It's starting to mess with my head, which I certainly cannot have if we're going to be doing something this important. I still have side objectives and answers that I need.

If I know anything about emotional turmoil - and oh, believe me I know so much more than most, and not all of it is from my own experiences - it's that never conceal something that would be equal to pointing a dagger at your own heart.

You know what? I'm not going to wait so long anymore. I've waited 1,101 years just to see her again and there are plenty of advantages to my situation if I can bend them to my will, and get the perfect circumstance for me to tell her without there being any injury to both parties.

I've got an eye for opportunity, and I'm not going to wait desperately forever; I need to tell her sooner rather than later.

If you send me any letter that says otherwise, I will ignore it because this has to be done. Despite how illogical and whimsical this sounds, this confession of mine is - or at least feels - star-crossed.

There is no way to persuade me to do otherwise, because after this I'll be cutting off the pocket dimension I use to ferry our letters. They'll only be dumped in a limbo until I open it again. If you try to tell Luna, I'll have you know that I have means to intercept any communication you attempt to send, as well as the means to harm you if necessary. While you don't know a lot about me, you certainly know enough. Which means that you've seen what I can do to those who get in my way and I can withhold the mercy that I've given you since our first meeting.

Do not cross me. Do not betray me. Say nothing at all, and all you love will be spared. Always choose your allies carefully, because while I'm too far away for you to harm, you're a sitting duck who has spilled her secrets little by little, and you've done it blindly.

The best enemy is an ally, Mi Amore Cadenza, the one who has vowed never to hurt you while holding the knife to your throat. 

Do not have it be me.

I suggest that in whatever pleas you make, you refrain from asking or bringing up anything personal. I've let you get away with more than enough in our most recent letters, and am not going to continue to tell you things that only your Aunt Luna and I have a right to know. 

This is your warning. I may have none of my blood but you are still close enough to me to matter even just a little bit. Do not make me sacrifice you as Celestia does a pawn because I truly do care for you, although not as much as I do for her, you must understand.

Do not make yourself something for me to gamble away. If I truly have to, I might as well risk you. If you take your title as Best Niece seriously, then you'll obey me without question just this once, for you've already been given your second chance, and I'll have you know that three isn't your lucky number. I'm still a demon.

-Sombra the Enigma

P.S. If you're really curious your list has labelled me as 'demisexual grayromantic'. I suggest we break contact, as if you'll be given a choice. Wait until you hear from me again.





...





Dear Twilight Sparkle,

After much investigation, it seems the Sky Scraper - the missing military ship - was not taken by anypony in Canterlot. 

Unfortunately, I should not have let the newest recruits deal with any information regarding the Sky Scraper case because one private, whose name I will not mention, misplaced the entire file and it wasn't found until recently.

Instead of allowing time to be wasted because of an annoying but pardonable offense, I had a unicorn whose special talent is detecting and identifying lingering traces of aura.

He found Luna's at the docks. 

It's weeks old.

Luna has been missing for months and isn't even likely to be in Equestria any longer, and the problem is she is not alone. There was another trace of magic present as well but it was unable to be identified by the stallion who had not obtained anything to track down the unidentified pony with. They might not even be a pony.

I've been poring over books as you do, worried sick about who my sister. I want to bring her home, Twilight, and I cannot stress that enough. Is she alright? Where does she plan to go? What does she plan to do? Does she realize that she is endangering everypony by not working at this slowly and skeptically?

If only there was some assurance that I wasn't trying to manage my rash sister from afar, but I have had none. Yet, there is something you can do to progress my search. In the old castle Luna and I shared within the Everfree, the one where you found the Elements, that is there is a book in the decaying library with an age prevention charm on it that has remarkably advanced spells for pinpointing the identity of various spellcasters without many physical clues. I never thought that such a book would be needed, nor did I think to bring it with me after her banishment, as I was as mad with grief as I am mad with worry right now.

Could you send it to me? I've written the title on the back of this letter, which I'm thankful to have time to scribble out in between meetings with the members of the Equestrian military that remain within Canterlot and the doubled royal duties.

Have you seen that the moon still rises and sets as I do? Only she has the power to control it, so she must be free of imprisonment if she is able to regularly and liberally use her magic.

Unless somepony with power to be reckoned with was able to break her goddess' mind and control her. I sit here on the throne, helpless without even the hint of my sister's whereabouts knowing that she could have been harmed by a cruel being if she ventured to lands I have only heard of and only my sun has seen. Her mind is so connected to her heart, my Luna, and I'm afraid that both are wounded by what she has been through.

This would enable anypony that has discovered even hints of forbidden magic that my light has yet to purge from this world to harness the Goddess of the Night and Dreams' power for their own selfish gain.

I have no idea what really lies on the Western Continent, so far from us, and with immigration and emigration between the landmasses are virtually non-existent, and even trade with those nations can prove tricky. All I know is that Neptune, my cousin who rules the world below in Aquastria has reported that after a great historical turmoil in the East, the West retreated into solitude and few have heard anything from there since.

This world is a big place Twilight Sparkle, and I'm afraid it's big enough for my sister to get lost in, just as she has gotten lost within herself before.

Is it so wrong that I wish to protect the only family I've ever had? I think not. The only way ponies can achieve greatness is if they work together. 

When you harnessed the Elements and brought Harmony to light once again, you knew this and that is one of the most important lessons you learned was that strength - and magic - comes from those around you, and nopony else.

Sincerely,

H.R.H. Princess Celestia





...





Dear Princess Celestia,

It has been a long time since you have gotten a letter from me hasn't it? This, as you can tell, is not Twilight's writing but that of her marefriend, Rarity. Twilight has come down with a bit of an early autumn cold - you know, the ones where you cannot help but sniffle and stay in bed tucked under the sheets feeling dizzy and tired all day? Yes that, I'm afraid Twilight had a head cold when you sent her letter.

Do not fret, Princess! I was able to locate the tome you requested with a rather clumsily drawn map from Twilight and the light of my horn. I have wrapped the book so it does not get damaged in any way as I send it your way.

I have also wrapped the entirety of a strange sword I found in the woods with old cloth. I thought you might be interested in it. The blade is made of onyx and is a tad weathered. I found it stuck in the ground and looks as if it had been there for some while based on the condition. Is this a sword of legend?

I do wish that a clue in Princess Luna's disappearance is found for both Equestria's sake and your own, Princess. She is your sister after all, and I can only imagine the stress you must be experiencing - that I would have to go through if Sweetie Belle were to disappear.

With all of Equestria on the look out for her, she's bound to be found soon.

Stay strong, Princess. You have both Twilight, Spike, and my own well-wishes.

-Rarity





...





Dear Twilight & Rarity,

This sword that Rarity was found belonged to King Sombra and was given to him by Princess Cadance. To make sure that we didn't have anymore of a crisis on our hooves I tested the sword.

The aura lingering at the docks matched the traces on this sword. To say this does not bode well is an understatement.

An immortal murderer, the famed slaughterer of the crystal ponies and tyrant king of the north may have kidnapped my sister, the co-ruler of Equestria. As soon as you and Twilight can I need you both to rush to Canterlot right away. Please do not bring anypony else, strength may lie in numbers but this has already gotten very out of hoof and nopony else can be risked in such matters when some virtues of Harmony must remain in Equestria during such times.

I'll have a letter sent to Cadance right away detailing what I'll need her to do. But as for you and Twilight, you'll be needing a ship of your own, and a much faster one at that if you're to catch up with King Sombra's head start.

I will have maps detailing the routes along the eastern coast I'll need you to take, scouring the land is a duty I will assign to Discord. You and Twilight will be responsible for searching the east of both Equestria and the southern continents for my sister. Twilight knows how to fly an airship because I know that Shining Armor taught her, so you will not need to worry about captains or crews. Provisions will be given to you both, of course.

Shining Armor's presence will be needed in the Crystal Empire since I will need to be in close contact with him for matters regarding the Equestrian military and the duties of the guard in these kind of events. Cadance will have to search the west coast alone, I'm afraid. You will both be given the means to contact one another frequently and I've labelled a town in the sourthernmost country of Germaneigh on both yours and her maps. I want you all to meet here and compare anything that you've found, and be sure to spread the word of needing to find Luna along the way.

If possible, locate Sombra as well. He is dangerous and not to be trusted nor will much information about him be available or true. Private records will be available to Twilight if she needs more information on him that she doesn't already have and if those prove to be inadequate then I suggest contacting Cadance. 

She was unfortunate enough to come into contact with him on a quest of her own and he was able to manipulate her into trusting him. I have faith that Cadance will be able to provide detailed accounts of his flaws and weaknesses. After seeing what he did to Twilight on their last encounter, I think you can understand some of the fury she must feel towards him upon realizing she'd been tricked.

Please take extra care to make sure the same does not happen to either of you.

Sincerely.

H.R.H. Princess Celestia



> Chapter 16: What Drags You Down
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Sombra:


In a partially scorched forest that has never seen anything but summer, I sit in the highest boughs of a tree. Most of the leaves are still not singed, so the ground is mostly hidden from me. The sky is as well, which is uncomfortable, not knowing if it's day or night.

The sky - if there is one here - is still the least of my worries. I really don't think there is one; why would there be? I no longer have to look at the stars and wait for every opportunity, cling to each futile chance, and dodge more barriers. The stars would not suffice, the moon is just a reminder of the mare I wanted to see again.

Now she's here, around me.

"Are you ever gonna come down?"

I fight back a growl and without surprise grit my teeth instead, the anger in me begging to be transformed into flame, no matter how meager if only for the chance to hurt him.

Now he's here, below me, as always. I sensed him the moment I arrived. He always makes my skin crawl under the fabric of my cloak.

"How'd you even get up there?"

My answer is to look up at the curtains of green around me. There wasn't any green after we arrived in the Empire: crops failed, plants withered, and unnatural winter reigned with me. For eight years, I never saw another tree or blade of grass, and not even many objects in the castle-prison were green. Nothing natural, anyway. I adore green, but I hate emeralds and other sparkling stones that dare possess the shade. Their lustrous examples of the color looks fake in comparison to the rest of nature. They're poison, like the gold he craves.

"Come down!"

I feel the result of a frustrated buck against the tree's truck and lean back against the trunk, mimicking the relaxation most others who recline like this in under any other conditions would have. Being around him always makes me think of the dreadful feeling of having a voice in your head, like somepony's standing behind you, always, and like how most ponies feel when another sneaks up on them and taps them upon the wither. That moment of shock mixed with a jolt of apprehension from not being able to detect magic is what it feels like. slithering into your senses.

Every day.

Every hour.

Every second.

If I could pretend anything and could pick a delusion to be absorbed in, provided I was the foolish sort, I think I would pick to constantly have the impression that Onyx is dead. Even though we no longer have any direct communication, except in these dreams, he is still bound to me as a small and feeble mind buried deep within my own. I know he is in a limbo-like state where he is denied all control. Why? The Crystal Heart. It destroyed my body - which he had used in an attempt to reclaim the Empire recently - and overthrew him from it as much as possible, and all because he didn't love like me.

Ponies talk about fair, owing, and deserving. The first and last are almost worthy of the most obnoxious chorus of laughter I can imagine due to their general foundation in lies and delusions. If the second were true, then I would owe Luna my life. No matter what I do, the false ideals and puppeted lies that Celestia loves to stand behind while she maintains that sick pious idiocy, the one that always want me to remain a slave, at the very least. This includes all the regrets she thinks I should have. This, of course, disregards how I've spent so long labelled as somepony's weapon.

An object, the words echo and my posture slacks a bit.

The tree shakes again. I want to kill him. The leaves rustle. I want him to suffer, yet he has tried to halt my generosity when I want only to return everything he gave me tenfold.

"Listen to me! You're supposed to listen to me, because you're mine!"

I might be able to at least hurt him again. I'm surprised how much I held back last time, considering what I know I can do, and have been made to do. I never thought that I'd see him again, out of everypony in this world. With a sigh, I roll off the branch and shift into a shadow, one that's more compact than my actual size when I manifest so. Mere seconds elapse before I'm returned to my equine form, shooting a burning stare directed at the lucky bastard who can't scar as I wish. My ears are laid flat against my skull and I instinctively glower more, as there's such a personal hatred between us than the usual annoyed contempt I have for the everypony.

"Are you still so stupid that you won't respond when I call you?"

"I know that you wouldn't be aware of this, but I'll have you know that 'stupidity' and outright refusal are two different things."

His expression of idiotic and unfocused hate crumples a bit at the sound of my voice, like he's going to cry. I wouldn't be surprised if he did since Onyx always cried easily. I just don't know why he would be so desperate to hear me. I could guess at it being some pathetic validation for his existence, or maybe a desperate attempt to stave off loneliness in some way. Both would be like him, and yet I can't say for sure.

"What's this even about?" I snarl.

There's a shift that was also expected: his demented grin and the strangled equinity that is like the dying light of a few twisted sparks being stomped out into the ground. I can see it plainly in his eyes.

"This is about you."

He was always one for speed when he wanted to be. The only way he could live as long as an imbecile like him has would be to run away from everything he couldn't understand, at least until he had obtained the means to hurt it.

Onyx appears at my side, and I don't hurt him at first. The image of all the nasty things I could do to him drift in my mind, which would be fatal were we not what we are. Each is more tempting than the last. Yet, with him near, I still flinch.

His tone - the one with the just short of feminine lilt he gets when the magic makes him sit still for only a moment to see what he's done like an artist inspects a painting - smooth and chirpy slips through his teeth locked in their expression of sadistic glee.

"I want you to know that I will get you back for everything you've done to me. You're the one who ruined my life. You're dense and toxic," he trails off into vapid giggles before resuming, "even though I don't think I need to remind you just how much I love to hate you."

I try to keep my jaw still so I don't grit my teeth. There's too much to say to Onyx on my part as well, but whenever he speaks of darker things, it's hard not to want to back away or just say nothing. I could run away and try not to shut my eyes and see the Crystal Empire again. Although, it could be because after a while I refused to even honor him with any vocalizations - screams, tears, anything - when we were in the Empire.

"It's scarring, isn't it?" he asks, mocking tone gradually slipping into more delighted giggles, only they're too cruel to belong to any typical child. 

My legs feel rooted down, and as my ears are filled with the echoes of my rushing blood and my head with the notion of running, they just feel heavier.

There's a small sound in the back of his throat that I know from experience means he's annoyed and he's in front of me, oh gods I just-

He grabs my cloak in his forehoof and jerks it so I'm closer to his eye level, and I only wish I didn't feel like I was letting him doing this. "Do you still have them?" he hisses, grinning eagerly and pushing back part of the collar and a bit of my mane with his other forehoof, looking for something that isn't there any more. The Crystal Heart really did give me the opportunity for a fresh start, in one way.

"Why isn't it here?! Where's your scar?!"

With the proper spell, I could strangle him right now. 

Do something.

Instead, I just watch this wretch lunge at my foreleg with alarming speed, his eyes bright with dark magic that he only has from being connected to me. He grabs one of my armored boots and whips it off, pulling my forehoof in his as I watch with a mix of paralyzed horror and smug satisfaction as he traces repeated horizontal lines across my gray coat, as if my leg was marked with stripes.

It wasn't, not now.

As he goes on, covering the entire area hidden by the silver metal he gets a deeply saddened look on his face, tears forming in his eyes. They still don't shake some of that brattiness that he could never loose. 

"Where are they?" his voice comes out in sobs, "Where's all the signs of the things I did to you? Are you as blank as your flank now?"

"I'm free of you," I say, trying to separate my rage from my triumph. I end up with a stubborn growl to frame my words.

"No! No! Absolutely not! You can't be. I want you to be mine, because that's what the book said! Sombra, you don't understand: I just want to hurt you. Why can't you just let me? It would be easier that way. You're more fun to hurt than any crystal pony, than my entire family would ever be! Don't you know how satisfying you are?"

I pull myself away from him, grabbing my removed garb within my magic and slipping it back onto my leg as quickly as possible while urging myself not to throw up to my best ability.

"I don't hate to break it to you, Onyx, but we don't always get what we want. Especially you."

"It's not fair", he wails, trying to grab me again, "Stop lying!"

"If this is a lie than it's the best lie ever, huh?"

He stomped his hooves as hard as he could in a single jump, shrieking and making no effort to hide the fact that he was crying, before wailing at the top of his lungs. "WHY WON'T YOU JUST LET ME BE HAPPY?!"

"Even if I wanted to, why would I?"

"You don't get it! When I was the king, I made everypony suffer, but yours was the best! Your suffering was perfect!"

I send Onyx flying into the partially charred trunk of the tree I was in with a single blow from one forehoof and feel elated when I see the blood trickling from his jaw. My boots aren't just for show.

"So is yours," I add before giving him the cockiest smirk I can, since he always hated when I did that. I watch him stand shakily, gasping for breath.

"Why do you keep fighting? You don't even have anything to fight for! You're nothing, Sombra! Nothing!"

He's going to have a very hard time saying anything now that I've slammed him against the tree so his back would be scraped by the charred bark. It broke so easily from him colliding with it. I could break his sternum right now with one strike.

I want to.

I smirk even wider, traces of the magic I am flickering in my eyes for only a moment. It isn't like I need it right now.

"Even if that was true, have you ever thought - and we both know you certainly haven't - that if by some chance that lie were true, I would fight to become something?"

"Let go!"

"Are you really trying to command me in your position? Why, I ought to break something just for the sheer stupidity that you constantly express. But really, Onyx, how is it that you think that you're something?"

He squirms and tries to free himself, avoiding eye contact as always. "Because I hurt ponies! Nothing can't hurt ponies, nothing doesn't enjoy bloodshed! Nothing doesn't rule an empire! Nothing doesn't hurt your head!"

"But you can't make nothing hurt others, and you can't create nothing from the Book."

"YES I DID! YOU CAME FROM NOTHING! YOU ARE NOTHING!"

I give a disdainful snort and remove my forehoof for a split second before slamming it down again and ignoring his howling.

"Really? Was that nothing? Did nothing betray you? Are you so obsessed with nothing? Would that not make you nothing, if you focus on nothing at all? Can nothing speak to you, does it hurt you and make you scream? How can nothing make you bleed?"

Onyx keeps crying and mumbling 'shut up' over and over under his breath, as if it could ward me from getting too close to him. Just to see him squirm even more I lean closer to him and whisper in his ear.

"Am I really nothing now? If I'm nothing, then how can you be alone now without having been alone before?" Swallowing he lump of disgust that swiftly squeezes its way into my throat, and willing the weight of memories away, I manage to get in one more question. Unlike the others, this jab is spoken in a grim whisper. "When your body was sundered and you were sealed away in a void, did you long for nothing?"

"N-No, not you! You're weak..." he tries but stops himself mid-sentence and reveals the error I made in getting this close to him by biting down on my right ear as hard as he can so I drop him and fall backwards screaming.

"YOU HEARTLESS BASTARD! DAMMIT, THAT HURTS!"

In mere seconds Onyx is laughing cheerfully, wiping away the tears away. This is a sight that many would find heartwarming without context, and if it weren't for the severe bruising on his throat and wither, and the wounds that could be glimpsed on his backside. That would also be assuming you ignore the blood on his teeth as he points and laughs.

Growling, I glare in his direction and cease trying to stop my ear from bleeding. Of course, he'd know exactly what would hurt most, especially on me. Even though we both fight dirty, he has always been the one lacking in both standards and mercy.

He'll never receive the latter from me.

With a quick teleportation spell, I'm looming over him in an instant, blood trickling down the side of my face. "Onyx, you speak of nothing non-stop, don't you? I want to know what your fascination with nothing is, and what makes you think that's what I am before I make you retreat back within your own wrecked mind."

For a brief moment, panic flashes in Onyx's eyes causing some kind of trick of the light that makes the flat brown ripple just for a moment, and this creates the illusion of depth for one who has always been lacking.

"You can't win, Sombra, don't you know that?" he says, shifty glance noting my expression slip at the first three words.

"And you really thought that you had control of me for time immemorial did you not?" 

Onyx flinches this time. He catches the gleam of Fate, almost as silver as Starswirl's plain blade. I can particularly see the fear that had overtaken his mind so long ago consume his wavering gaze as feelings of his life he never wanted to remember - boredom, pain, loneliness, misery, restraint -
keep replaying as a reminder of the faux glory he could never maintain, even with a crown to my stolen name.

"You are nothing," Onyx repeats voice distant as his forehooves search the grass, and like a flower he plucks a knife as dull-looking and plain as he is from the ground. He really does want his words to mean something, but they never have so I watch as he quickly fumbles with the pathetic blade before gripping it in his teeth. He has no magic to hold such an nondescript and common tool as I hold Fate.

I give a bitter laugh at his pathetic attempt to challenge me. He's so startled he almost drops the knife, since Onyx has never heard me express anything close to mirth, or even laugh at him mockingly.

"Onyx, the king is dead."

"Ish not," Onyx mumbles, "I'm 'ight 'ere."

"But are you really the king? I have seen his epigraph. 'As above, so below'. Does that not describe you, regardless of whatever station you try to force yourself in?"

Onyx adjusts the knife's place in his teeth so he might speak more clearly as I let him stand in my shadow. "What? That cannot be! I am the King, the King is me, and do I look dead to you?"

"You were hardly ever alive to begin with. It's over, Onyx."

His tears start welling up again, ears flopping a bit and I'm able to glimpse dark circles - like the ones that marked my youth - under his eyes. The tears, far clearer than his dull silvery gray coat, only highlight a haggard appearance that I always wore. Only it has consumed him, as power did. "I don't wanna disappear."

"I want you to."

"It's cold."

"I'm bitter cold. Tell me how that's any better."

"Please? Can't you just pretend that we're the king again?"

"I won't let you hurt me, or anypony else ever again, Onyx," I kneel just a little bit so I can look him in the eye, "You'll never get a chance to even see me from the dark corners you'll be rotting in."

He sniffles. "But what about me! What if I'm hurt?"

"Nopony cares, and even if somepony did, it certainly is not me."

"But you did once, didn't you? Why did you help kill Starswirl? Why did you get mad when I said he hit me? WHY DID YOU BELIEVE ME?!"

I scowl and bring Fate to his neck, staring him dead in the eye with all the fire I won't act upon. I just want him to see at least half the fury I'd take out on him. His coat looks almost white now, the circles as dark as the blood spots on his bruises. 

"You ingrate," I growled through clenched teeth, "do you really think anypony could care about you? After you take everything - every single damned delusion - out on them. You just hurt others for fun, for enjoyment, for pleasure... and that's why you're the worst. But, hey, do you really think I'd stand here explaining everything to you when you could always torture yourself with your own insecurities? I know they're buried in there somewhere."

"W-W-What? N-No, you're lying to me again! Stop lying to me! I never wanted you!"

"You wanted to be alone, then?"

"NOOOO!" he howls, trying to grab me, and oh gods forbid it - he's trying to hug me like Luna did on the Sky Scraper.

I'm ready to do more than just shove him away - I'll strike this damned brat worse than that wizard ever did if I have to, because now there's a true reason to hit him - when he attempts to plunge the knife into my wither.

I smack him away and get a shriek. While I try to stop the bleeding from the nasty cut on my right side by bunching my torn cloak over it, and Onyx eyes me with pure malice.

"And to think I was even considering showing you restraint..."

Onyx gulps, tries to back away into the trees, but falls back onto his haunches. The knife is in his hooves now - he's nervously twisting it back and forth and shivering. It was the same lack of being able to hide his emotions and naivete he shows now that caused Starswirl to signal him out among the other crystal pony foals, where his foolishness and immaturity shined as bright as the moon on a starless night.

"...but do you think I'm going to show you any now?"

"W-Well, I uhh..."

He makes a weird hiccuping noise, which devolves into something that's somewhere between whining, crying, and laughing. Onyx starts to rock back and forth until he looks at the knife he's been twirling in his hooves. His eyes grow large when he realizes that my blood is on it.

I can feel my heart beat in my ears, even through the blood from the wound on the right. Foals usually like candy - it wouldn't be uncommon to see a candy store on a Canterlot street crowded with young foals looking at the display window. Onyx, as a young foal had his fair share of sugary confections as well - pies and rock candy, mostly - but that didn't compare to the glee when he saw blood with the glee shown by others for confections.

I'm not sure what exactly in Onyx's head, outside of pure sadistic desire ever made him want to taste a living creature, like birds. He was never starved as a child, nor was he ever spoiled with fancy meals.

I usually feel sick upon eating. It's always something I've found to be a disgusting necessity that I liked to do as little as possible as a mortal. I was appalled that ponies built a large amount of unnecessary reverence and socialization around eating and made foods that weren't just plain dishes. They would even sit around tables and watch each other eat, something I would be sickened to watch. I loathed eating around other ponies - Luna was the exception, and Mac was pushing it - and was startled when I was caught eating, and would stop immediately.

So, I was disturbed when I stood here watching Onyx lick my blood off of a knife. There was nothing I could say to him. I only watched with my eyes wide and my mouth agape feeling sick all over. The wounds he gave me so much worse now and I tried not focus on the dripping blood.

I tried not to hear the laughter, and I wanted to turn away from his derangement. As always, I could never run from the horror that was Onyx and the atrocities that he committed under my name.

"See, Sombra? This is why you're nothing: you don't break."

"But you do," I say, my voice is so low that it might be the first time in ages that I've recalled whispering anything. I'm not sure if Onyx even heard what I had to say before I kicked him in the stomach and the knife fell from his grip.

His voice still cracks when he screams.

"Onyx, I want you to tell me something..."

I give him another kick.

"AM-"

Another one.

"I-"

And then a finishing blow, harder than all the others.

"NOTHING?!"

This kid's still a never-ending well of tears and shrieks, even though this is not the worst that has happened to him. Being kicked by somepony as strong as I, who happens to wear metal boots and hate him with a passion? I swear on this fool's memories that most of the time he encountered Starswirl, the old sot tried to beat him half to death, and he was still an entirely physical pony then. It would have been much worse for him than what he's getting from me right now.

I mean damn, half the time whenever the wizard was drunk, and Celestia and Luna weren't within the vicinity, he'd chase the kid with hot coals. And the other half of the time, he'd just spill vulgar stories of his liaisons in the court that were explicit at their tamest, among other gossip. Both were the Starswirl equivalent of a fireside story.

He manages to shoot for the knife again, scooping it up in his mouth and half-run, half-stumble away from me, admittedly speedy as he does so.

Onyx chooses the same path as before, and I'm left alone once again with only a few falling leaves as sound, his sobs fading into the distance.
> Chapter 17: Three Words Spoken
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Sombra:


"Sombra?"

Uh...?

"Sombra, you have my permission to wake up now."

What?

"Oh come on, you can't be that deep of a sleeper."

I wish I was a deeper sleeper.

"Should I get another rain cloud? I'm sure there's one nearby-"

"No, dammit! See, I'm awake, no rain cloud needed!" I cry, opening my eyes only to see that Luna was looking down, her face hovering mere inches from my own.

"Hi," she offers.

I think it would be best if I stopped breathing for a little while, I think as I try to stare anywhere but directly into those entrancing eyes while holding my breath.

"You're cute when you sleep."

Is there a proper response for that? If so, it eludes me right now.

"Don't worry, Sombra. I wasn't watching you for long, just an hour or so."

"I see," I eloquently offer, feeling quite disturbed internally but refusing to let that show.

"Are you planning to get up anytime soon?"

"Doesn't the adventurous youth normally kiss the slumberer to wake them?"

She pulls back, mane flowing so it almost hides her face and most of the cabin wall. "Well... I just needed your help with something on deck, that is all."

I sit up and shoot her a wary look in hopes that she'll back up a bit. "What do you need my help with?"

"I was clearing the sky for when I raised the moon, and what I took to be a mere rain cloud was a storm cloud."

"And? What happened?"

"I'm afraid lightning happened, Sombra."

"I slept through this?"

"Apparently," she says, rolling her withers slightly so her mane is pushed to the side - her equivalent of my apathetic, casual shrug, I presume.

"Did anything break?"

"The wheel did. Well, it didn't break, per say. It is but a pile of ashes now."

"How are you supposed to steer?"

"Sombra, I'm sorry. It was an accident-" she begins, backing away with a touch of shame in her currently forlorn expression.

"Luna, I don't care if you did this on purpose, I just want to know how you want me to fix the ship when the wheel's been reduced to ash."

"I cannot think of a spell to piece what has been lost to fire like that back together. We are going to be drifting for a few days unless I summon a few winds to buffet this around, and change direction every now and then with my magic, following the stars..."

Luna puts a hoof to her muzzle, looking contemplative. "Do you happen to be good with building things?"

"I have at least five hundred years worth of lost technology off the top of my head, and hundreds more texts on magitech and forgotten enchantments memorized. Luna, I've not only got the capacity to recall texts I've read once-through but am, in fact, living eldritch knowledge in one way or another."

Luna is silent, looking even more thoughtful than usual.

"A demon," I mutter, clarifying the last part.

"You want to build a new navigation system. Why?"

"Aren't I allowed to have any fun?"

Luna rocks back and forth on her hooves a few times, giving me a happy-go-lucky closed mouth smile, eyes shining. "Could I help?"

"You know these ships better than me, don't you?"

"Yes, and I presume you want me to direct you to the repair materials on board as well?"

Not in the mood to be fully moving just yet, I rub the sleep from my eyes with a forehoof before transforming the metal bands into armored boots with a smooth click-click and lazily teleporting next to her side, but not too close. "That would be helpful, but I imagine that what I've stored in my pocket dimension will be much more interesting."

Luna blinks. "Do you mean...?"

"You didn't presume that I just read about technology, did you?"

Luna gives me a broad smile. "I cannot say I have ever presumed much about you, Sombra."

Thank you. "We have work to do, don't we?"



...



With lighting being her element, Luna was very lucky she was able to control the stray blast just enough so half the ship wasn't in the same sorry state the wheel was in. We stood like some kind of odd mourners around the Sky Scraper's wheel, with gazes that clearly showed something calculating within both of us. For me, since I can't observe my own gaze, I've always thought that it would show whatever wicked fire that I feel when I solve problems like this, problems that beg for invention, cunning, exploitation, and lots of potential.

For Luna, it looks like sparks of eccentricity and an intriguing blend of wonder and wisdom in her eyes, which have had that cosmetic she wears removed, so now I can see the cat-like irises gleaming under a canopy of stars as she conducts her own careful analysis of the objects lying around us, courtesy of me.

An array of common gears and altered ones were scattered around us, along with wrenches and scraps of metal and bolts I had obtained from repeated entries - none of them authorized - into scrapyards. Other more specialized parts to build things like levers and even a few primitive - but still unusable - magic-assisted engines. All of them were 'liberated' from various instruments and ponies across the various areas that make up southwest to central Equestria. That 'business' family I often did errands for had certainly picked up on my love of strange contraptions and kindly relieving others of things they couldn't use themselves. Often what I gathered were little downgrades of things held to be lost long ago that never should have been in the hooves of idiotic peasants in the first place.

Luna was an ingenious weaver of spells and odd solutions to anything I lacked the trinket to fix, but she didn't understand the 'tech' part of magitech like I did. Her invaluable mastery of classical arts made for an excellent companion in conversation when she couldn't find much else to do. I enjoyed listening to her when I messed with gears, wires, and metal etched with her bold calligraphy, which was so neat that the runes she carved on plates and shells looked as if they had belonged there all along.

With the aide of my shadow form, I was able to slip through the ship itself, and with her melodious voice telling me for the fifth time that I can't keep getting stuck in the walls any more, we managed to make something much better than the wheel could be. Our two straight days and nights of work paid off. This was remarkable, considering so few ponies alive today even heard of what we did in the legends they grew up with, and I managed to be around her without some mood overtaking me... for the most part.

She stood near me, looking at the neat mechanism in place of the wheel on deck. It bore some resemblance to the brakes of a train, but was much sleeker, and considerably more complex than its bulky predecessor. Ornately carved brass and silver made a nice base that had been welded together by the more precise side of Luna's lightning magic. The levers were of my own making - crooked rods that had been connected to the various systems I had to construct alone, tempered and straightened by fire with a fraction of the heat I had used to roast Onyx.

Between the half a dozen mismatched levers was a small table-like pedestal with a hollow in the center and runes carved in the space that was left from me forging the shape.

It was a shape that had an uncanny resemblance to a spade on a card's deck, and not by accident either.

Luna looked at me, holding a somewhat damaged locket. The silver heart was worn, and even dented from the most recent events it had witnessed, but the compass protected by ancient enchanted glass still worked. That was what mattered. When Mac had died when wearing that locket - Heart's Desire - I had picked the thing up and stowed it away in my saddlepacks. It had been much worse off than when I had found it, but when it comes to skills I'm a jack of all trades, so I was able to fix a silly necklace without much of a problem.

This was the same silly necklace that I kept pulling from its safekeeping every time I had the chance, knowing that Mac wasn't looking, even though I always knew where it would point, and who the destination would be.

One day, on our way back to Equestria - her homeland and a place I had never been - she caught the slightest glimpse of me holding the trinket, and looking up out the stars as I did every night.

She told me to keep it. I said I'd keep whatever I wanted, and that a sugary airhead that can't even prevent her own death should think twice before she tells me what to do, because even though I may be the Right-Honourable Lord Sombra I would, if I really wanted to, cut out her candy golem innards and hang her with them if she so much as thought about telling me what to do again. We didn't talk much after that, not until we had arrived in Canterlot and she insisted I was made a noble, even though I wasn't a citizen of Equestria, nor did Mac ever think to bring me into the country legally. Celestia certainly never bothered to ask where I came from, and if I actually qualified as a citizen of her nation.

But there was no way in Tartarus I would be able to touch the locket like Luna is right now, not when I knew where it would be pointing. I only watched as she lit her horn and affixed the locket to its designated hollow. There was a soft light emitting from the joined locket and rune, the same turquoise as Luna's own aura. It shone softly, highlighting the Goddess of the Night softly, like the otherworldly beauty she was. Her own moonlight blended with it, and she looked more vibrant than any painting could be, but most of all, it was impossible to miss her smile.

And I knew I couldn't go on like this for much longer. After all, I barely feel like myself- or at least my usual self - any more.

I did feel like this restricted from her once before, and it was so much worse. But it was also the best, because it never mattered that there wasn't much of anything around me and that it was cold as could be. Who cares that I couldn't even manifest then? Certainly not me.

I am Sombra and I loved her then.

I still do.



...



The soft click of a lever shifting into place echoed behind me. In passing days both Luna and I found the navigation system that we built together to be doing its job well. There was no longer a wheel that needed to be monitored most of the time, and the ship could go much faster and Luna no longer spent all her time on deck. I often caught her in the halls, humming as she pored through a book or two from the library while I avoided her, exchanging as few words as possible.

And I hated doing that.

Yes, I was avoiding her. I really didn't want to, but it was the only time I was able to think somewhat clearly, and that's exactly what I needed to do.

I'm not staying away from Luna because I feel that I care about her less upon finally meeting her. It's quite the opposite, really. I've watched myself sputter around her simply because I can't just blurt out something like that to her. I knew that she was very sensitive, and even a bit of a hothead, from my first encounter with her literal ages ago. Now that I've been able to observe her, I can see that the description fits her, but there's something going on in her head that's beyond what I'm able to observe. It's some kind of anxiety, at the least and that's only going to make it harder for me to tell her. She hasn't considered my lack of conversing with her worrisome, thank goodness.

I just have to find a way around the fact that there's going to be the possibility of my bluntness triggering her anxiety, which would not be something I want her to go through. The only problem with this is that my resolve isn't going to hold out against her before I just blurt this out.

She's neither completely aware or utterly oblivious to how we're both drawn to each other, which means that if I'm to tell her anything on the subject I'm going to need the clearest possible mind and the shortest possible time frame to do this.

Luna's just as fragile as she is tough - it's as plain as day to a manipulator like me. She shines more than any other equine I've met. She's an honest individual, a rarity that I'd never thought I'd find unless I were to look in a mirror.

It's not about what I say to her, the message is going to be quite clear. Me declaring this is inevitable, I've stolen so much since I've returned and I couldn't be prouder of myself.

But now, what I'm going to say matters more than ever to somepony external of myself. Somepony I love much more than I love myself.

From the moment I was created, I was me, and if that entailed anything it meant that I was different from the indistinguishable sheet of white that was everypony else. I was not a mere blank canvas waiting to receive features by another's dictation. I was the ink: the gateway to potential, the bold lines that defined themselves and everything around them, shading a landscape that would be worth nothing otherwise.

But if anypony really thinks that I'd allow myself - or Luna - to seriously be compared to ink, than they are even greater fools than I give them credit for.

I am the artist and I have found another of my kind. I made my story, and she made hers. 

Just like how things must have been for her, our words and all else external of ourselves would have been deemed so unbearably worthless, just as indistinguishable from everypony and everything else.

And the two of us - even before our paths had yet to cross - made our names something more than a scrawled label to distinguish one thing from another. Her and I made our own divergent paths a place to put our hooves rather than something that we would follow without question.

Along came inspiration and over a millennium ago, I believe the only two artists in the world saw the face of one another and we never forgot who we saw.

It's not what I say that is going to matter - that was determined a long time ago - but how I say it.



...



Luna looked out at the ocean, her form was mostly shadowed even though the night was clear and the stars gleamed in the sky brighter than any jewel could ever be. The air was a bit too warm for my tastes, and even though we were at sea I could still feel fall in the air, no doubt carried over from the Southern Continent, whose shores weren't so far away.

It's hard to say that the seclusion Luna and I had was anything I'd trade away, although land would be nice when all I could see was water and and sky. Thankfully, whenever Luna brought forth the night, the latter overtook the former. The sunlight she accused me of grumbling about - and not incorrectly either - was gone, and the view of the sky was certainly worth it. There were reasons I always tried to have the sky visible. Heck, combined with the glorious lack of ponies I was enjoying myself, even if there wasn't much to see.

Although, I still missed pizza... and maybe a few other things.

Luna's eyes shone with starry reflections and inspiration. Her wings had barely settled from her brief flight to raise the moon. I can still see feathers fluffed up from her flight and stirred by the winds when they would normally lie sleek and smooth when her wings are properly folded.

She props her head up casually with a hoof, leans on the railing and sighs. "So how did I do tonight?"

Luna is busy examining the stars glittering above, but I'm looking at her shadowed form and her dark mane. Watching the lively ripples it makes can be soothing.

"Out of ten?"

"Yes, as with every other night," Luna says, clearly unfocused as she stares into the heavens. I catch the white gleam of a smile, if only for a moment.

"Ten out of ten," I say, my eyes never leaving her.

The smile returns, but isn't as brief. 

"Oh," she murmurs, as if the single sound could contain the excitement I can detect in her tone. Like the rest of her, Luna's voice makes it harder to guess her age, since it can contain the stoic maturity that has always been more than faux elegance and contains a quality I can't describe as anything other than enchanting. There's also the mirthful youth that makes her so warm and much more than endearing to me. I love it when she says my name. Even with knowledge of how Alicorns age - including the age of Luna herself - she has always struck me as a youthful sort of ageless compared to her sister, who I find so earthly in comparison.

Not just earthly, dull. Severe and much like a secular institution that sprouted legs. A relic. Call her the opposite of what she is commonly held to be, and you'll have the truth in some form.

"Where do you live, Sombra?"

"Canterhorn Mountain."

Her eyes brighten. "Really? That close, and right under the muzzles of Tia and I? Perhaps I should pay you a visit when this journey has ended!"

I snort at her reply. "Did you just call your sister 'Tia'?"

"It's been her nickname for the longest time Sombra. Do you think I was born able to pronounce 'Celestia'?"

"I'm not sure. The exact speech capabilities of ponies at such young ages, much less Alicorns."

Luna is nearly doubled over with soft giggles that any other soul would think fit a cheeky filly than a grown goddess, but I don't think there's many other ponies - if any at all - who would know her.

"What's so funny?"

"It's, well... would you be mad if I told you?"

If she told me what? "Why do you think I'll be mad, Luna?"

She starts to play with her mane, combing the thick mass of blue with her forehooves. "You are very aware of how others view you, no?"

"Luna, you don't need to be so cautious with me. Out of everypony I've met, you're the most considerate and accurate with your guesses about me, and don't think that simply being tactful or thoughtful means you can't speak freely around me."

Luna blinks and ducks her head to get a better look at the ocean. I hear her mumble something, but do not catch what.

"What was that?"

She speaks just a little louder.

"Luna, I've had you shout at me before. You're capable of being much louder than this."

The third time, she jumbles all her words together on purpose and is barely audible.

"Jeez Luna, I'm going to go deaf over here if you keep screaming like that," I say, voice flat and only barely amused with her current antics.

"You're cute!"

I... what? Did she just...? But... I... me... WHAT?!

"No! Not like that, not you... but the way you act. How you talk, the things you say, your quirks. That's it."

"You do realize that 'Sombra the Cute' doesn't have much of a ring to it?"

Luna couldn't hold back her laughter on that one. It rang out loud and true, clearer than the night air around us both.

"I told you it wouldn't make me mad."



...



"Do you remember which one that is, Sombra?" Luna asks, pointing a forehoof to a cluster of stars that don't seem so far away from up here.

"Virgil...?"

"Virgo."

"And are you sure that is last of the ones you remember off the top of your head?"

"Yes, Luna."

There was a short pause between us before she speaks again, the stars shining behind her so her shadow is cast on me.

"I thought about what you and I discussed, that many generations of mortals are just repeats."

I conjured a small prism of äerint and drop it over the rail, knowing that I'll never see where it falls. "Any thoughts you want to share on the subject?"

"You certainly aren't wrong."

"I think you'll find that I'm hardly ever wrong."

Another pause. She fidgets with her mane again. "Do you think Cadance falls in that cycle?"

"Why her in particular?"

"She's your friend, isn't she?" Luna plucks a few strands of purple from the edge of her mane and lets them follow the crystal, drifting in the wind.

"Yes, she is my friend."

"Do you consider your friends peers?"

"Not really. I don't exactly seem to be somepony who has found an equal, do I?"

When Luna bites her lip I know something's up - the faint ripples her magic sends out, short momentary disturbances in her power are a signal of nervousness - and that there's something she has to say.

"What am I to you?"

I...

Well...

"Please Sombra, answer as honestly as possible. We've spent a lot of time together and I still... I don't know what you really think of me."

...this is it.

"Sombra? Are you well? Your expression - Sombra you look faint," Luna says, turned to me her eyes full of concern while I can't hide how nervous I'm feeling, and just take in the sight of her, relieved that my confidence is still somewhere in my mind.

"I love you."

There's three words. I've finally spoken them after a millennium, I've said them to her face...

Her face that shows fear...

No.

...so much fear... and sadness... panic... everything that shouldn't-

Just no-

"...Luna?" I ask, voice no longer as direct as it had been a moment ago. I sound apprehensive and hoarse.

"Y-You... No, Sombra. Sombra you don't."

"Luna, what do you-"

"You don't love me. Please." Why does it sound like that she's trying to convince us both? Why is she pleading? I've never wanted her to plead with me. Why do I feel lighter than before, but so much worse? Why does the world feel like it's falling apart? If I feel like my heart's been crushed, why do I feel it racing?

WHY DID I BOTHER TO SAY ANYTHING?!

Why did I have to?

The sound of a slamming door brings me back to the agonizing the present, and when I blink briefly my eyes are dry - a leftover instinct from what could have been a lifetime ago right now, for all I cared. I see her running towards the door and the slam echoes for a second time.

Luna.

With a single name I have to remind myself to move, to do more than just stand there almost paralyzed like a mirror of what happened all those years ago.

It feels horrible, galloping over to that door so fast that I skid to a stop in order to keep from crashing into it. I grab the handle with my hoof an twist it so it makes an unusually hard click from the force I'm applying.

...And then I feel the magic that envelopes the door and the exterior of the navigator's office. A shield coming from within.

I light up my horn in a blink, not caring that the amount of aura I have is unnecessary to teleport and dark magic isn't used for teleporting like this.

Within a second, I'm gone...

...only to reappear right where I started.

I grab the door's handle again, pulling with only force, because I don't care if I break the thing down. As long as I don't let my magic combine with my strength and temper, everything should be fine.

Fine. Right now, that word is vile, and feels like a buck to the ribs.

It's locked.

No, there's absolutely no way-

"DAMMIT LUNA, OPEN THE BLOODY DOOR!"

The door wasn't budging.

"I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME!"

Unless she cast a noise cancelling spell...

I try to loosen up for only a moment, just to sense some of the more precise nature of any undisguised spells, and damn... there's some sort of muffling spell.

"Luna? We need to talk, I didn't mean to scare you."

Unbearable silence.

"Luna, could you just - oh gods... you don't think," I swallow at the thought, eyes widening.

"...I know I have a temper, and you heard me screaming, but Luna I'm not mad at you. I'm not going to hurt you."

There's still no answer.

"Luna, I would never hurt you."

Just answer. Give me a sign, something.

"Is there something you need to talk about? Why did you react that way?"

Anything at all, Luna.

"Do you hate me for telling you?"

Do you want me to disappear?
> Chapter 18: Rain Without Thunder
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Luna:


Sombra did not love me.

He was the pony I wanted so badly to be my friend, and a companion I might be able to confide so much more in. I thought he was going to be different, and that surely he would not have the same delusions as so many others. Instead, he had the same celebrity crush on Equestria's returned princess.

It was unlikely he saw me as myself, as Luna, after what happened moments ago. My heart still pounds, and I can't stop shaking, even though I'm lying down in a cold sweat and just trying to close my eyes, shaking and shivering.

The blanket pulled over my head feels like a shroud, and I keep wishing that he had been different. Why did Sombra, a stallion who seemed to be so unique, have to fall for the same tricks as everypony else? When I had returned to Canterlot with Tia, news of my return had spread fast, not just due to my importance, but also because of how easy modern travel was. Within the first week of my time in Canterlot, I had received thousands of letters, and this awed me. I had never been held in such esteem by my subjects before.

A good deal of them were well wishes and sweet cards made for me by school-aged colts and fillies that wrote to me of their siblings and how glad they were to have me as their princess, as though I was somepony I knew instead of a reclusive ruler that they had never heard of before. Despite the anonymity, it was a kind gesture and I was touched by it, and all the authenticity of the loopy crayon letters and macaroni art.

However, there were less desirable letters that only served to enforce my desire to appear in public as little as possible. Those were the letters that spoke of how ponies claimed to understand me after hearing my story. They called me their 'dark goddess' in all the worst ways, and almost overnight I had acquired a small fan base of ponies who claimed to love me, their words toxic fantasy after fantasy. 

They wanted to see me shoved under spotlight, to lay their eyes upon me, to remove layer after layer of my privacy with their uncomfortable and even perverse inquires and aspirations, in the case of the bolder ones.

I never wanted to see any of them.

Tia had ponies like this as well, who called her perfect, adored her image, and more. She didn't mind as I did. By Tartarus, Tia even encouraged her admirers. I learned that a few of her lovers over the centuries were previously among the ranks of these many infatuated souls, and it only doubled the awkwardness of having to behold all my sister's past lovers through pictures, footnotes of history, and the brief words of my sister. 

Why did Sombra have to be one of these sorts? Out of everypony, why him? I was foolish to care about Sombra. His charm and understanding had seemed so genuine, and of course I was swayed into thinking he was more perceptive than that, and that he wouldn't fall for appearances or chase after power and status.

Could I really believed he would look past images? Was it so horrid to believe that one pony would be able to have more than just a fake foal's crush on me, or some vapid and undesired lust? Did he really think something so silly, such a minor and baseless attraction, would be accepted and prove true once spoken? He probably doesn't see me as anything but an idol from a lost world that he can study. Has he even listened to anything I've said?

Curse my shallow naivete, how could I so foolishly trust him? He had seemed so kind that I really thought I was going to have my first friend.

It was really such a foalish wish, wasn't it? It's unbearably obvious I'm no longer a foal, but I feel like one. I've had no confidence since Nightmare Night, and even that wasn't me at my best. Ever since the incident with Tantabus, I've wondered how many ponies know, how many of them are looking at me strange, and why I always feel like I'm being watched.

Something really was ripped away from me, and even though it had to be, I still feel exposed as a result. Everything seems so fragile now, but in a way that I'm afraid to do anything. Confusion only worsens this growing malaise and my fickle, low moods. To have anypony dare describe me as perfectly lovable, or anything of the sort, is just silly and mocking now.

Ah, curse this anguish! Why did Sombra have to be the one pony who I felt I could trust and depend on just a little bit turn out to be so... disappointing? He has currently disappointed me as much as I disappoint myself. I know not how to describe what I feel right now, even if I wanted to think about it, my feelings are a tempest I wish not to delve too deep into. 

Instead, I scream and pull the blanket over my head, not caring how immature this is, I need this.

I have so much power, but feel so bruised that I'm not sure using it would even help. My magic is still intact - I use it so much while Celestia rarely displays her power - and I can feel it surge when my own temper threatens to break, or stress emerges, and other extremes.

I had felt it when we gave our magic to Twilight Sparkle in order to stop Tirek, when I felt like I could have done so much more. Tia and Cadance gave up all their magic - I saw their depowered forms with my own eyes.

But did I give up all my magic? No, I did not. I held onto the Tantabus, for I would not harm Twilight Sparkle by bestowing it to her. My small power, kept like a vile miser's gold, would have been unusable in a fight. The fact that I did not give up this power showed - most of my cutie mark was still intact, and my mane had not been reduced to the state it should have been in if I lacked my magic.

If only I had the confidence to manage all of this on my own, and there would be no companion to burden me. I wouldn't feel so betrayed, would I? Why, Sombra's probably furious with me out on the deck, or at least shocked that I'm not a flawless idol.

His confidence is so admirable. I wish I weren't so fraught with insecurities, and were more like him in that regard, and had the faith in myself I used to. Now, only my plans for this journey remain intact, while snippets of my self-confidence are still stagnating somewhere. Even if I can no longer think of him as I one I can trust, smile with, or confide in, I can at least respect him for what he's been through.

And how so long ago, I was there with him...



...



"You do not sleep."

Four words, clear and true were finally spoken, an echo of sound to fill the halls empty except for us. The king - Sombra, as he was called -  haggard beneath the appearance of a tyrant. Why, that visage almost looked forced upon him glared angrily at me for interrupting him.

I understood why he needed a spell around him now. Eight years of forgoing sleep would make him dependent on magic to stay alive, and try to keep his mind as intact as possible, since it was all he had to keep himself alive.

Despite my horrid present situation, and the pain from the crystals that were on my horn and sprouting from my wings, speckled with blood as they broke my flesh, there was a light of pride - and of hope - blooming in the darkness. Though it was a fragile hope, it still shined infecting me with its whimsy. I had little else to suggest freedom other than this small thing, and I am desperate enough for it to have appeal. Soon, I would no longer limp down these halls. I would be free of this ruler... only to be bound by the obligations of my sister and the chains tying me to Equestria.

The world around me seemed to slow - and not just because of the stagnant, heavy, and cold air of this corrupted castle - and I knew that he too was imprisoned. Somehow, he was bound to something that had led to this cruel and mysterious fate, one that I do not think he could escape. While I have followed a path determined by where my only constant - as infallible as she had once been - led, for once I trusted her judgement.

Sombra - which was such a personal way to refer this total stranger - was somehow a kindred spirit. I was sure we both could feel it, there was something, even though everything about us could be so different, yet hardly without similarities. At are core, are we not the same, in one way or another?

How did you get here? Did you follow your anger until it led to a crown? Were you trying to prove somepony wrong to make history? If I had been your place and you in mine, would you think the same? Would I wear that crown as you do?

Everything about you, King Sombra, is so honest. Your words may not be true, but I can see in your eyes that you are as miserable as I, you cannot lie even if you tried, not to me.

In the seconds I process as a miniature eternity, I move my hoof ever so slightly. Despite the crystals embedded within, it was still quite sufficient.

You spoke true when you said you anticipated all cruelty, and I wonder if beneath all that despair, you've ever been shown anything like kindness, or any similar thing. 

He certainly cannot be exactly what Celestia said; there is something deeper here...

...something I don't know, that is horribly lost in all of this, and that I could not save Sombra from even if I knew what to do.

I'm sorry, Sombra. Even if I knew what makes you who you are, under your cape and crown, do you really think the sun's shadow could save you?

Somepony in equal torment, who is just as lost and scared... even of you?

I needed my magic, back and the only way to do that is to trick him, startle him - anything that would cause his concentration to falter, and free me of this spell as a result. My plan would have to be as far-fetched and unexpected as everything happening within the walls of this prison, a tomb of smoky gray crystal.

He didn't expect me to be so quick, but despite the pain I managed to be swift enough to grab him and pull him closer to do the only thing that he would never expect, all in order to free myself from a twisted magic I could not break. It was I who would have to find my sister in this unforgiving crypt of the mad king, and the many unwilling subjects who met their death here.

I kissed the tyrant king of the north solely as a combat maneuver - to give myself the upper hoof - and it was an action even my wildest dreams could never capture. The thought of me kissing anypony was quite ludicrous, and here I was: my lips against this tyrant's, my heart in my throat, and my legs shaking as I threw myself into this strange gesture.

He was confused, and maybe even angry at me for using his words against him in the dark and crooked halls of this castle.

I was sorry that it had to be this way, but there was nothing I could do. By the time he would know what was going on - if his mind broke through madness at all - he would find that I was long gone, my own brief freedom found in the mad dash for my sister, who was my jailer and fellow prisoner in a breaking sorority, in the halls that make up the confinement of Sombra.

A few droplets of blood are all that I know leave behind, no doubt the result of my awkward gait.

It has to be this way.

'If only...' is my own mind's reply, perhaps a question, perhaps an answer. There is no reply as the air rushes past me.



...



Literal ages have elapsed between then and now, and this has always been a memory that has stood out, but not actively... but what is it to him?

Could it truly be a precious moment in his life? I'm surprised he even remembered that moment with such clarity, based on my reminders and teasing.

When Celestia was of the age to be as romantic as the Unicorn Court would allow, spoke of the her first kiss in a manner that my much more hopeless and forlorn self found vapid and so unlike her. She had always been much more inclined to discuss companionship, for even when we were fillies she would tell stories - and not particularly entertaining ones - to Discord and I about 'the prince' she was going to find one day. But the blind attraction she held for the Court's stallions never sat well with me. How could she be so affected by ponies without knowing a thing about them? Even now, I hadn't obtained much more of an understanding to how love - usually the love of mortals - could be so blind.

But Sombra... could he really have more than a faux ardor for me?

How? I'm not a pony worth loving, or rather, I'm not what he's looking for. I'm not what anypony is looking for, and he's better off chasing after Celestia despite their hatred! What could he possibly see in me that wouldn't be a characterization all his own?

Nopony could ever be told all my secrets and want to stay. What makes him any different from a blind chaser of admiration and cheap expressions of sentiment reciting poorly composed sonnets under a balcony?

I just don't understand... everything about this whole ordeal is horribly confusing. I don't know what else to do other than wait for a perfect answer. Everything as of now is as fragile as I feel.

Do other ponies think of me like my sister, who will gladly consort with ponies and embellish them with titles and gold - all the things that mean so little to me - only to watch them fade, or to feel like they had been nothing more than just another inferior who only saw a crown atop my head?

Somepony who only wanted an easy smile and a good time at court? Doesn't anypony realize that laughter is cheap? It doesn't matter how much one smiles, it's the happiness within that matters most. Frivolous distractions are no way to be satisfied with one's life.

I've never enjoyed the notion of having a mere consort either. I do not need an inferior to obey me, or a superior to be an unattainable presence of somepony I am obligated to look up to, something barely short of an idol. Until I find somepony truly equal to me, I will spend however much of my eternity content and alone, if it is really what I must do to be happy.

And behind my shut-tight eyes I see the flash of Quicksilver and the glint of äerint followed by twin axes and the strokes of Fate.

No matter how I felt about him, Sombra was my equal.

My equal who loved me, and because of this I only hated myself more for what I did right after the Crystal Empire had returned...



...



"The Empire, sister, has it truly returned?" I asked Celestia, who was pacing behind me. While she did so, I only stared out a window too high for any part of Canterlot, including the other spires of the castle, to be visible. This window was free of colored glass that depicted a grand events of both the past and present.

"It has, Luna. Why are so worried?" Celestia replies, and I can see the reflection of her warm smile in the clear pane. Had she forgotten what had happened there so long ago? Nothing about this warranted any sort of diplomacy! This was of matters dealing with dark magic - no, not just that, but with a tyrant who had known nothing of equinity. At least, according to the history that Celestia dictated be written shortly after the events, and the same history she still stood by today.

"King Sombra came so close to beating the both of us. Cadance and Shining Armor are formidable fighters, but can they really stand against a stallion with power that nearly defeated two true gods? He is one with a home field advantage... as well as magic of the mind."

"Luna, you needn't worry. I wouldn't send just Cadance and Shining."

"I must go as well," I said firmly, "with my power and intelligence on the foe, I shall be able to aide Cadance and Shining Armor easily. I know Shining Armor is reputed to have great skill with combat, but I doubt he could hold his own against dark magic. The stallion would be out of his element, and Cadance would be best suited to protecting the citizens of the Empire..."

"What is it you would plan to do, Luna?" Celestia asks, an imperial light twinkling in her eyes.

"I would do what we failed to do one thousand and one hundred years ago, when our power was little compared to what we have now: I will kill King Sombra myself."

"And the intelligence you possess?"

"It is on his magic and fighting skill," I reply, dipping my head so Tia will not catch my cheeks coloring slightly. I had never told her about what transpired in the Empire when I encountered him - not all of it, but I refused to lie to my sister.

"Why do you appear so passionate about this battle? It is an important matter - now that the ponies are free from the king's curse we will have a second chance at saving them."

"Yes, and I beseech you not just as your sister, but as your co-ruler to allow me to undertake this quest and fight for Equestria by slaying one who would oppress others, and protect those who would bring love to a land in need."

"I am sending Twilight Sparkle and her friends."

"TWILIGHT SPARKLE?!" I screamed, "Celestia, that is a mistake! She is but a child lacking proper combat training of any kind. She makes no decisions with a warrior's mind, and is not powerful enough to face Sombra himself. His magic would snare her mind too easily. You cannot expect one as naive as her to join those two, can you? Her and her friends would only be liabilities, she studies social interaction and Harmony's teachings, yet you see fit to throw a mere disciple, a prophet-in-training against one who has mastered her subject's opposite?"

"It is a test," Tia says calmly.

"A test?! The welfare of a nation is not a test!"

"Luna, you do not dictate what my student learns-"

"At the possibility of hundreds and thousands of lives being lost?"

"-just as I would not dictate the teachings of your own student."

"Because I would teach them tact? And I have already told you, I desire no student. I do not need inferiors, nor am I in any position to be a teacher. My duties and skill lie elsewhere."

"Your brashness is not a quality one would expect of any mentor, Luna. My decision is final. Twilight has boarded the express train from Ponyville and will be here soon. I expect you to be polite to her upon her arrival."

"She doesn't truly understand the world she lives in and the nature of evil, Tia. Sending a child into battle-"

"That's enough, Luna. Twilight is not a mere child, and you shouldn't treat her like one. You don't need to have this air of false bravado-"

"It's not that at all!"

"-to win ponies over. All is forgiven."



...



"ALL IS NOT FORGIVEN!" I scream, though there is nopony around to here. I bury my face in my forehooves and just try to calm down but only feel worse as a result. I have no idea when Sombra gained this infatuation with me. but if he did have it before any of this, back before even his return...

...Then that means I tried to kill somepony who was in love with me.

I want nothing more to disappear, I think to myself over and over until I remember little else.



...



The world around me was unbearably gray. Not the gray of smoke, nor the shade of charcoal that was Sombra's coat. The horizon was blurred by a barely defined sky that melded with the ground to form a plain of dismal monochrome.

I could not locate any light source at all, since a muted shadow seemed to pass over all, including myself. Even my indigo coat was dulled in this place where the air felt too heavy, like any words I spoke would fall to the ground, useless as could be, as if even I might not hear them anymore.

Through the haze of unpleasant nothing, for not even 'gloomy' was a proper word to describe something so barren, I noticed a circle of shadows darker than all the others - about half a dozen flickering shadows.

Large, winged shadows.

I looked up, staring somberly at what could be the sky of this place even though I feel so tumultuous inside.

They were vultures, but they did not cry out as I expected the menacing shades to.

I moved slightly, eyes still on the sky. The soft steps of my hooves should not have made any sound beyond a faint swish of air that came from moving my whole form. I heard the faint clink of glass.

I cast a quick glance at the ground. A road of glass had appeared, clear and defined despite there being no light to shine and cause any reflections I would have noticed from afar. When I looked toward the path to see where it might lead.

In the distance was the outline of a forest. It was rather hard to tell much about it, as it wasn't close enough for me to even see a single tree in even the vaguest detail except for the shape of the trees. They were overgrown and it gave the forest, no matter how distant, a claustrophobic feel.

I looked to the road again, which lead through these very woods to a destination I could not see, one that might prove perilous. It appeared I would fear myself on every step of this journey, which was not an unfamiliar feeling to me.

Yet, it was the only path I could see, and with a heavy sigh I took it. The world blurred as I took each step onto the chosen path, and then I found myself gasping and awake under the very blanket I had tried to bury myself under.

My hoof reached up to my face, brushing a lock of my mane - which was slightly matted with a cold sweat - out of my face, only to feel something there other than the lingering sensation of sleep.

I hadn't realized I had been crying.

Or sleeping.

Sombra... I should probably go check on him. He'll be able to feel my magic, so he'll know I'm there. Even if I don't know what to say, I should at least try to mumble something like an apology for locking him out like that before I withdraw entirely. Will I still be able to be around him, knowing how divided we will be and no longer be able to confide in him as I once had or see him the same way?

I found myself fretting over what could happen, but I knew I had to say something before I slipped into one of my bouts of silence where I had everything to say but can't bear to utter anything at all - as if all capability of speech were stolen from me - and I feel even more choked than I do now, on words I can't figure out how to say no matter how grand some of my proclamations may be.

Walking down the hall that had yet to be lit by dawn was difficult. I didn't want to face Sombra's temper. I didn't want anypony to be angry with me, but how was I to expect these complications to not be so? 

I lack answers to my questions, and just decide to keep my head bowed, not even minding my own heavy steps. My mind keeps thinking about things I'd rather not consider. Like a bubbles, constant waves of what-ifs float by, taunting me only to pop and a new one to take the place of the broken worry.

He had shown signs, hadn't he? Signs that marked points of how he had thought about me, and all I would have had to do was connect the lines I could only see with hindsight. He was open with me, sometimes he bordered on teasing. He allowed me to help him and listened to me in return, offering his own help on multiple occasions in ways both big and small. He let me heal him, and that look he had given me...me, of all ponies. I think I knew what it was now, and it filled me with dread. He kept blushing when I showed any affection for him at all.

And what did I do to him in return? I trapped him on the deck of the ship, alone, for an entire night. If he slept at all, it would have to have been there. Why am I so cruel to him? How could he even think something about a pony like me who not only tried to kill him, but refused to speak with him? What would he do when he found out about the former? 

I have tried to kill Sombra twice, I realize as my hoof grips the handle of the door that will lead me to confront Sombra, who no doubt was enraged and would demand answers I could not give. I still had to lower the moon, which would have to be done outside... or at least at a location where I could see the sky, like a balcony.

Sombra knows that I am here, I thought, there is no point in opening the door slowly. You cannot put this off any longer, it has already been hours and I have yet to see when he will forsake patience and succumb to his own emotions.

The door is flung open by my own hoof as soon as I remove all the spells I had placed upon both it and the Sky Scraper, and I hold it open with my magic to see what lies before me.

The Sky Scraper drifts along its course but the deck is masked with the shadows of clouds from the weather. I step out to survey the familiar surroundings and look to see how Sombra is. Clearly, he has not been using the navigation system as the enchanted mechanism sits untouched from last evening.

There is little to be seen in this weather. The deck is drenched with rain and the sky is darker than even Sombra's coat, and though it may be pouring, there is no thunder with the rain, nor are there any flashes of lightning that I might need to ward off to keep the ship intact.

The gloomy conditions of the rainstorm matched my mood exactly. I looked around and had to shield my eyes from the onslaught of cold rain in the warm autumn night as wind swirled around me.

It may have taken a while, but I saw the scorch marks that marked the deck under the blur of water. Signs of fire let loose in some kind of fit raked across different spots like claw marks. Once I saw them I couldn't look away until I heard a sound like thunder behind me.

The slamming of the door was so much louder than I thought it would have been in the rain, where clouds blocked out the darkness.

There I saw the marks on the handle - the same marks of fire - and though I knew not what he thought, it was clear that in all this turmoil Sombra was long gone and in a storm, no less.

I might never see him again, and it all felt like it was my fault.

I could barely differentiate the rain from my tears as I sank to my knees, crying with the sky itself in the hours before the dawn. Though, I may be high above all and bearing wings that could take me almost anywhere, I had never felt more grounded.
> Chapter 19: Away from Cloudy Skies
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Luna:


In the sky, large white clouds drifted lazily, unmanaged by any pegasai. Today, they looked as if an unfocused painter had taken up their brush and applied generous white streaks to a crisp blue canvass, not caring how carefree the pattern of the thick strokes looked as they trailed into the distance, sometimes leaving patches tinged with silver.

Most of the time I did not even need to summon any strong winds to help steer. The new navigation and the summer gusts of the southern hemisphere's weather did that for me, now that I was no longer near the planet's girth.

The weather had been like this for quite some time now. Even the borders of the southernmost neighbors of Equestria were hundreds of leagues away, at the very least. As I often looked out over the rails when books and other objects failed to hold my focus, I could see the vast expanses of what I could almost believe was infinite water. The farthest shores were unreachable for weeks no matter how fast I flew and I felt anchored to the Sky Scraper more than ever, and it was not an object - or even a place - I took kindly to being anchored to. 

It isn't that I was lonely with the weeks of silence and stoic meditation that this solitude has left me to contemplate, but I couldn't shake the mood of constant mourning, a faint pain that had faded to dull acceptance on this ship where I had only the wind to listen to.

I did not speak. I did not laugh, and none of this was unusual for me. There was nopony to say anything to, and I refused to honor myself with any kind of ruckus caused by talking to myself. What would I even say? Nothing, that's what.

The only one I talked to was Fish, who I had relieved from Sombra's cabin, and often brought with me to various locations on the ship when I was not flying beside the sleek vessel. It had felt so wrong to even enter the space he had happily read in - or at least as happily as Sombra could act - so I had entered only for a moment, particularly fleeing once I had saved Fish from such a stuffy location. 

Here, at least, the poor creature could see the sun in the bubble of magic and water that he resided in, and I could have some creature as company, though I did not deserve it.

Outside of practicing magic on a whim and being in the company of myself, I had only Fish. 'Twas not so bad.

"Did he ever tell you anything interesting, hmm?"

Fish pursed his mouth in an 'O', his koi-like barbs swaying in the water.

"Are you ever going to tell any of u- me..." I caught my error again and started again. "Are you ever going to tell me what kind of fish you are?"

Fish turned his back on me. I can't blame him.

"Do you miss him?" I dare not name who I was talking about. He must hate me more than ever.

Wherever he is in this vast world...

I cleared my throat as loudly as possible in a manner closer to a loud cough before muttering a few unintelligible syllables, testing the range I had adopted.

"The Right-Honourable Lord Sombra certainly disapproves of you daring to imitate his err, glorious reclusive tendencies!" I proclaim, voice in a strange mockery of Sombra's, and one that didn't sound too far off to me. I was able to capture his unamused, arrogant baritone and add either curtness, sarcasm, or grandeur as I saw fit. Perhaps that was enough.

Fish swam in a slow circle, facing me with a cross-eyed stare that appeared intrigued with my antics, until Fish's gaze rested on me, who hoped only to cheer the creature as well as myself up, and then he returned to looking out at Celestia's day.

"You dare give me the tail! Gah, I'll have you know that in the estate of Nothing you'd be found guilty of..."

For the briefest moment, I faltered not knowing what to say - what Sombra would say - and had to speak whatever popped into my head that sounded remotely like him - an ad lib - to make up for the pause, even if Sombra usually didn't sound like a more bearable version of Blueblood even when he spoke as his persona.

"...attempted sass, against none other than me! Do you even dare think that I have the time to deal with the failures..."

Fish's opinion of me is getting lower by the minute.

"...and flaws of anypony else..."

That doesn't sound like him at all, I tell myself, my own scolding remark hurting more than it should.

"What do you think I should do, Fish?"

Fish choose not to reply.

"I know you miss him, but could you try to help me?" When I still hear nothing - even if I could understand Fish - I choose to fill the air with some sound other than the mournful tone of my voice. So, I give Fish a faux voice of his own - a deep purring voice that I knew I would have trouble keeping up for extended periods of time, so short lines would prove the best.

"Princess, I only wonder where he has gone."

"Do you think we'll see him again, Fish?"

Fish couldn't answer. I couldn't answer.

And so the silence between Fish and I resumed, a thousand questions within me like a storm on this bright day when all I wondered was whether I should seek an answer that would break the solitude I now have, so free of the tempest his presence would bring, or if I should steer myself off course to see if any place nearby - earth or sea - has spotted Sombra at the cost of whatever peace of mind I can muster, and forever miss him as he was. How I had liked Sombra when he was the intelligent, charming demon who spoke only the truth and had an arrogant, enigmatic air to him. Why did all things wonderful about him crumble away with a confession?

Those words had revealed him to be something else, something deep within him was disheartening and frightening because of the everyday delusion he revealed himself to have. Was it all a lie to make me enjoy his company, an act so cruel and dishonest he'd adopt an attitude that was everything he really wasn't?

So much time had been spent trying to answer all the questions my mind conjured, only for them to go unanswered, or to find seemingly endless possibilities that had so little evidence to support any of them, and they just felt like a far-fetched accusation. Some ended up feeling like they were just empty words I couldn't bear to attach a single hope to.

Even though he told me so much about where he came from, without Sombra himself here, I felt lost, for no claim seemed to hold any ground, since Sombra himself acts as the anchoring point for all. He defines himself, but without him here, I'm unable to say much more than I was before. I must remain skeptical - as if I could help but doubt him now - if I want to solve anything.

I look out over the rail, watching the clouds and resting my head on folded forehooves. I need something that could help shed light on Sombra when he wasn't interacting with me. Nothing from word of mouth will do, and I can't exactly contact my sister or Twilight Sparkle for information in my current situation, nor would it be anything I could trust. Even Cadance's experience's with him-

Wait, Cadance... she's my answer! Sombra wrote letters to her... and he even called her his friend. If what he spoke had any truth to it, as I believe most of what he says does, then he surely confided something in those letters. I'm not sure if Cadance would have kept the ones he wrote, but if she did, I could always see if she'd send them back to me. Even copies would do.

"It's really the only option I have, hmm, Fish?"

I heard the sound of bubbles being blown in reply.

"Yes, I know that going in his cabin would be an invasion of his privacy, but there's always the chance-"

-that I might not see him again.

I dreaded saying it, for it was just as true if it remained unspoken. Sombra had vanished in a storm. I had faith that he was okay, knowing that he had the ability to brave so much and had learned a proper array of spells to survive the sea in our time together.

There had been little I had been able to do to find him, as I knew not where he was headed, only that I would not falter in my journey southward. His dreams were not available to me either. Sombra might not be sleeping, he might be too far away, or he could have a mental barrier up - all of which were things that would keep me from entering his dreams in an attempt to locate him. I still had some problems with my dreamwalking magic, though. It was a new skill I had developed when I wanted to help my subjects more after I was freed from the thousand year curse I had brought upon myself - and of course, I wished to go somewhere new.

Yet, while I didn't want to see Sombra face to face even after this time, I did not want him to vanish in the vastness of the world only to return with a vengeance after centuries. I would not be able to fight him, being more torn than I am now.

I valued Sombra's privacy even if I wasn't sure I could be close to him, even as an acquaintance. Like me, he was so withdrawn that to intrude on this would be like directly attacking him. It would be breaking a rule I longed for another to fully comprehend and respect.

I push myself up from where I had been resting. The afternoon sky no longer held my interest, and unfortunately for both Sombra and I, we're both splendid at breaking rules one by one.


...


I levitated Fish's bubble down into the Sky Scraper's lower quarters, having it float in front of me like a shield to protect me from my own nervousness. I thought that I was done thinking about Sombra and asking questions that only brought me tears as discomfort, but it took only a single thought of Sombra to reverse that. Only now, I might get something like an answer - or at least, advice.

When I arrived at the door of his chosen cabin, I still felt part of me plead to reconsider. Sombra was not somepony I ever wished to cross and when he was here, it was an unspoken rule that neither of us was to invade the other's privacy, a boundary that nopony else respected about me or had with me, for the most part. Certain topics we would not pressure the other about, or in certain cases consider entirely. He mentioned having knowledge of my time in the moon and I told him not to ask about it again. He didn't. I asked him as deliberately as I could if it was him or Onyx that had hidden the Crystal Heart. He said it was him, and asked that I not inquire into anything about the events in those eight years of his life beyond what he was willing to divulge himself. I agreed.

Now, I threatened to break any trust he had in me by deliberately going through his things.

More than ever, I needed answers. This was the only way I could think to get them, and so I opened the door, pushing away any second thoughts with it.

There was little to observe in the cabin itself. Everything looked as it was in place. Only the sheets on the bed looked out of place, simply being folded at an odd angle. A small stack of books lay on the nightstand, with a larger amount below - about fifteen overall, I didn't stop to count.

While I was unsure if I needed to be in the exact spot he stood in to open his pocket dimension, I think it was the most appropriate spot to stand in case it had a spell laid upon on it that would make matters more difficult were I to overlook this. I had taken care to memorize where he laid the spell to anchor his cache of things and who knows what else, since having a hidden room whose interior I knew nothing about around me was not a feeling I enjoyed. It made it much easier to 'sneak' into his cabin if I knew the spot to avoid. This ensured that when he left his door open, I could come in and see him reading at the desk without nearing the area where he not-so-secretly kept the bulk of his worldly possessions.

I was relieved when my surge of magic was all it took to figure out how to pull the exact threads to open it, although I had to put in more effort to undo the 'knots' that sealed off his portable lair from the world. Had he used dark magic this would have been almost as difficult as he is when in a particularly stubborn mood. 

Maybe it should be 'was in a particularly stubborn mood',  I thought sadly before immediately regretting it, and shaking my head in attempt to clear my mind, keeping my eyes to the gray-crystal ground.

Sombra's pocket dimension was much more interesting than his cabin. Whatever light shone on the cool, quiet crystal was not from any single natural source and still left much cloaked in shadows. A few blankets - only about six, really - lay about wherever they were dropped, some casually folded into crooked squares like quaint makeshift cushions. Others laid about in small piles covering a few objects with their plain and easy to miss solid colored fabric, which often had a few faded patches covering a hoofful of things that remained undisturbed under them: pens, books, and various notepads.

Papers were scattered about the ground like a leaf pile, but more organized. They seemed to be sorted in loosely collected piles that spread outward like a chain of interconnected stacks awaiting use again. I dare not look at their shadowed surfaces for long in this oddly cozy place but I caught the fleeting glances of many scores of dots in patterns I could not make sense of, the surfaces of faded yellow and white dull among gray and lightly coated with dust. Others looked more recent and bore defined script with varying degrees of legibility, while some of these pages were independent of their stacks, as if by some invisible breeze, while a neighboring piece might be poking out from between the pages of a well-cared for book.

I suppose if the books and papers - among a few other objects I never bothered to even look at, their shapes already indiscernible to my fleeting look - were the leaves than the peculiar forest of bookshelves kept by Sombra would be the large clusters of äerint as tall as I was. They had 'branches' that grew into each other, each lined with books, the writing on the spines hidden in splinters of darkness that bathed over the muted colors.

On the floor by one such cluster was a stack of papers - perhaps twelve or so - among a few ripped envelopes and ribbons used to bind scrolls, seals discarded on the ground. I knew that the glitter remnants and stickers adorning that acted as the wax bearing coats of arms were certainly not Sombra's.

With that in mind, I picked up Cadance's letters and left, wanting to read under the sky instead of the stormy monochrome void clouded over with shadow.
> Chapter 20: Deception in an Envelope
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------



Dear Cadance,

After Luna has failed to return, I have grown more worried by the day knowing that my sister has impulsively run away. I have written to both you and Twilight of these woes, but now I have even more reason to fear for her safety. This is due to some recent developments. 

I have recovered evidence suggesting that Luna could be in danger, wherever she may be. An investigation has yielded that she left aboard the airship known as the Sky Scraper before I was even aware of her being missing. You know as well as I that she retreats when upset - even if it can only worsen her distress. Cadance, I worry about her as much as I worry about every soul in our kingdom. She is in need of the same protection as our ponies: protection from herself and from isolation.

But now, I'm afraid that she might need protection from another as well. At the scene of the Sky Scraper's disappearance, there were two traces of aura instead of one. The second remained unidentified until a blade happened to be recovered form a foray into the Everfree Forest by Twilight's marefriend. I'm sure you'll be very familiar with the blade: it was the one you 'gifted' to the tyrant king from the Crystal Empire, and it was his aura that was identified as the second presence.

It also seems that the tyrant king made his presence at the Pantheon's meeting, an event that he should have had no access to. This means that somepony had to have let him in, and I can only imagine for what nefarious purposes. I'm curious to how he ended up there, and if you can offer any information on that or anything else regarding the cruel dictator so that my dear sister might be returned to me and the kingdom that loves her.

You have spent months at a time around him and might be able to offer some insight to the flaws that no doubt rack his vice-ridden mind. What is his weakness and how can it be used against him? I'm already aware that he has a certain guile to him, and was able to trick you into thinking that he was a reformed individual so that you were able to convince me to grant him a title, as meaningless as it was. I'm sure his pride is still quite inflated over such a thing.

This same wickedness has also enabled the monster to trick my sister into following him Tartarus knows where. They've truly disappeared without a trace, and the only thing resembling solace that I have is the lowering and rising of her moon in the sky each night. Other than that, I feel as lost as Luna must feel right now. She must be terrified, knowing that she is at the mercy of a pony so dark, twisted, and heartless - a being unfamiliar with any concept of even the slightest mercy or affection. 

Can you even begin to fathom the harm he wishes to bring to those in his way, and to somepony like Luna who has so little light to guide her from the dark? What cruelties does he wish to inflict upon such a broken mare and my dear sister? Cadance, I do not blame you for trusting him - he's a psychopath who will do what he must to hurt others - I only blame myself for not killing him when I had the chance. I have spent thousands of years combating evil and keeping the ponies I vowed to protect and serve from it, but there has been no peace in knowing that King Sombra survived his banishment and the magic of the Crystal Heart. 

The world needs the night. Equestria needs their princess. Luna needs me.

This is why I've chosen to send Twilight and Rarity along the eastern coast of the northern and southern continents, starting from the airship docks in Manehatten. There, they will search for any traces of my sister, while I investigate the underground happenings in Equestria for any clues that might remain, with the help of Discord. After all, Equestria still needs one princess to hold it together, and a light to grace their lives and extinguish their problems. 

As the highest ranking princess left in Equestria, I must exercise my power as I haven't for centuries. I command you, not only as the highest authority left, but beseech you as your aunt to take up the parallel journey on the western coasts and look over the route I have drawn up and enclosed for you. You have also been clearance to access the motorized airships in Vanhoover's airship docks. I have three available choices for you to take on your journey. 


Times like these often reveal the bond between ruler and subjects, and how as leaders we must carry those we rule. To allow them their own steps is like allowing a young foal to jump into thorns, and a downright despicable course of action. I am thankful to have instructed you and Twilight otherwise, and I trust that you know the Empire will be in good hooves while you are gone.

Please write back as soon as you can,

Your Auntie Celestia





...





Dear Auntie Celestia,

An adventure this soon? Of course, I'll undertake it to help find Auntie Luna, and entrust the Empire to you and centuries of wisdom. Still, I have to ask are you one hundred percent sure she was kidnapped? While I did spend a lot of time around Sombra (and he technically kidnapped me on our first meeting after his resurrection, it was out of his self-interest, but he wasn't malicious in the sense you describe), he wanted to save the Empire to save himself, and he needed me to do it, so I wasn't mistreated or anything like what you observed.

Still, I learned so little about him. He's independent and manipulative, as well as secretive and wicked smart. He came up with plans quickly, and altered them on the spot to fit his needs. I always had a hard time telling if he lied or not in most of our conversations. He's certainly pragmatic, but he doesn't overlook detail. No intentional praise to him, but he's certainly a match for you.  

Other than that, I don't know much about him. I don't know why his name is Sombra. He never mentioned what his parents were like. I imagine he didn't have any. I don't know how he took the Empire's throne, or about his dark magic, and whenever I asked him questions he often just told me to shut up.

He does like to read. I know that much. He really doesn't like to talk ,and he is often very quiet in a way that made me not want to pressure him, since I'm pretty sure he thought I was stupid. Oh, I guess I can add that stupidity seems to make him angry. I know that.

I don't know where he lives or if he lives anywhere at all. I can't exactly picture him renting a flat anywhere. Do you think he's the sort to dwell in, like, a two room apartment surviving off the broth of innocent instant noodles and the energy produced from directing his freakily intense judgemental glares at fellow tenants? 

I'm not entirely sure if his parents gave him the name 'Sombra' too. Is that even supposed to mean anything? I dunno.

I do have to ask, why to you keep calling him the tyrant king? He doesn't really rule anything any more. The Empire belongs to Shiny and I, so wouldn't it be more fitting to call him Sombra? Just Sombra? Even if it wasn't his actual name, it's what he calls himself. He did sometimes refer to himself as the Right-Honourable Lord Sombra, but I never found any records of unicorn nobility in the Empire at all. Or much of any nobility, for that matter. They barely have any gentry at all, or at least they didn't have any until I took the throne. It really was just the royal family and the Crystalline subjects, so he might not even have been that good at magic if he was able to control a kingdom that had only a ruler to dispose of. That's what the records say.

Sincerely,

Cadance

P.S. I like the Pink Sunset best. It certainly looks a lot easier to fly than the other two. It's been a while since I've been in an airship, so maybe I should get my hooves on a manual or something. Is there any book called 'How to Fly An Airship for Princesses'?





...





Dear Cadance,

I'm afraid I know of no such book that would be suitable for you, and not on such short notice. It also appears that records here in Canterlot reveal that the permit you were granted for flying airships has expired eight years ago. When our situations are more stable, and these journeys are over, perhaps we can discuss that.

Shining Armor's military training has included learning how to fly an airship. He has a licenses and is one of the best pilots I have seen since they began to roam the skies. As I've written before, I'm sure you won't mind if the Empire is under the care of myself and the remaining Elements for a while.

I'm sure that you tell the truth when you say you know so little of such a creature who is closer to an object and deserves no name. Like a sword, he slashes through ponies without a care of who is hurt. He knows nothing but how to spread pain. You are innocent of his darker nature, the one beyond a despicable recluse who shuns the company of others, except to relish in their pain, and break the fair laws set to protect others. I'm thankful that he hasn't hurt you, but worry constantly what he could do to somepony like Luna.

While I take no offense to your words, I'll have you know that 'Sombra' as you plainly call this mindless ravager is no match for one who protects all, loves freely, has little in the way of ego, and upholds good as I do.

May you bring Luna home, and if not you, may Twilight.

Your Auntie Celestia





...





Dear Cadance,

I apologize for not writing to you, there has been a lot happening lately. As you have no doubt been able to tell, I have been able to get the letter-sending pocket dimension working again. Though, this came at the cost of terminating whatever letters were inside. I'm sorry for this, but it had to be done. I no longer have Sombra to send my letters to you, and I'm afraid that he won't be able to read any more of yours. He's been missing.

Some time ago on the Sky Scraper's deck, Sombra made a wild confession and claimed that he loved me. I... I ran away as soon as he said it, and the next morning he was simply gone in a storm that made it impossible for me to track him. I have had no word of him since then, but continue to travel on the course that was planned. The navigation system that Sombra and I built still works, but I could always try to fly this without any aid, as long as that would take. You have no need to worry about me but there is still the matter of Sombra.

...I don't think I'll see him again. He would have left the ship with teleportation - which I would have been able to track - or something else. It appears to have been the latter, which leaves him wandering the world, alone and distraught.

I had asked what he thought of me, because I thought it would be a good question to see if he wanted to be my friend or not and I needed to know his honest opinion of me. At that point, he could have seen me as anything, right? A friend, a burden... there were so many possibilities.

But out of all of them - as your letters to him reveal - he was infatuated with me before he even met me for this journey, and while I had no idea, you certainly did. Your seemingly innocent question of if I found Sombra cute was just a trick, no? While you were so kind to me and sharing friendship advice, behind my back you wrote advice to Sombra to court me! 

How am I supposed to feel about this? Even I do not know! You said Sombra would love to have me as a friend, as an equal, but instead Sombra just wants to covet the hardest-to-get princess doesn't he? Am I to be some trophy to him in his mind, and does he see me as some foul outlet for lust who he may ogle as he pleases? Has that been what he has revealed to you? Do you not realize how terrible such treatment is to a pony, or how the prospect of such treatment is terrifying to me? Why did you encourage him? Why didn't you tell anypony that though he may have seemed so friendly and genuine in his own way, his ambitions were just that of a smitten noble that refused to grow up, or something much more dreadful and physical?

I demand you send me his replies to your letters, so I can make more sense of what was exchanged between you two, provided you did not burn them. After that, I want you tell me everything you know about him so I can deal with him appropriately if I ever see him again, not as enemies but not as friends either.

I no longer believe my trust can be placed in you, or anypony at all, for that matter. I wanted him to be my friend and wished for your advice, only for you to work in secret to help him court me and lead to this disaster. I desired Sombra as a friend, hoping he would be unique and somepony I could consider a companion, only for him to reveal he was just as delusional as any other noble seeking higher status through courtship and stallion who sets his eyes on the curves of a mare's form.

You even called him uncle, as if he was already wed to me! What is the meaning of all this, if there is one I cannot see?

-L





...





Dear Auntie Luna,


Oh gods. 

It went that bad? Luna, I'm so sorry. He was getting desperate... but oh gods... I'm really sorry it went like that, and that you found out because of our silly letters. This is hard to process for me too. Please trust me though. It's nothing  like what you think. I'm enclosing some of his responses with this letter in a nice big envelope, but not all of them, okay? As the apparent Princess of Letters, I want him to have some privacy too, because he'll behead me if I don't allow him that. He sent me nine letters, but I'm going to omit the sixth one for his sake because he has threatened to kill me for this stuff. You won't need the first, since it was just us establishing contact, so I'll remove that one too.

If you need any help with anything, just send me another letter. However I'm begging you to read this one until the end.

Sombra, even though you most likely know him more than I will, is nothing like any of the snobby nobles from that day and age. He's not a creep, either. What little he writes about you reveals that, and I've seen if for myself.

When we traveled up north to Gildentundra, he barely said anything to me because neither of us trusted one another. On the train ride we took there, he asked me what I wanted most in the world while opening up just a little bit about how he views things.

After everything that's happened between him and I, it was pretty clear to me that what he wants most in the world is for you to love him.

The version of the story I told Auntie Celestia left out a lot of important parts about how he and I acted, but I did tell her a few lies about the end.

I know that you know that we had a riddle we had to solve, but I'll write it again here for you:


Undefeatable am I
Lest evil acquire,
What the vain Lord lacked
And speaketh Great Truth


The answer turned out to be 'love' and the supposed 'evil' turned out to be Sombra. Now this is where the story differs from what you've been told: instead of the Crystal Heart activating at my death in order to resurrect me, the Heart activated at Sombra's confession which undid a seal on the Heart - from it being hidden away - and enabled me to travel inside it.

Only the purest kinds of love can power the Heart, just as the worst sorts of things can taint it, and if it weren't for Sombra's love I'd be really, truly dead. Ouch.

After that, I asked him who it was that he loved, I didn't catch their name since at the time I was busy dying.

He told me it was you.

Now, I certainly don't know everything about him, but one thing that has always stuck out in my mind was that even though he claimed to barely know you, he said that he never forgot about you. Minutes after saying that, we bumped into you in the halls of Canterlot Castle with him disguised as a necklace.

The necklace - Sombra - started burning as soon as we started talking. I've witnessed a lot of the strange magic Sombra has done, and have needed to do plenty of research on some of it. The reason that burning occurred was because of a flaw in the spell Sombra used. To keep this letter short: it turns out that Sombra forgot to remove some equine aspects from the necklace form and was blushing. But as a necklace he had no way to control heat, and since necklaces weren't supposed to blush it hurt me. Another ouch.

I can't imagine Sombra blushing at all, and if he could it's probably only a little bit and barely noticeable. I can't imagine him crying either, but I certainly can't imagine him blushing. Can you?

Sombra has never told me why he loves you or when he fell in love with you - and I've never asked - but I can tell you that his love is as genuine as he appeared to you. He doesn't lie much, so there was no fake behavior or act he would have put on for you. In fact, if I know anything about ponies and weird demons who eat too much pizza, it's that you have probably seen the most of him because I'm not sure what secrets he would ever keep from you. He's very closed-hearted, and about as affectionate as those spooky crystals of his, but I'm sure he's opened up to you about something.

He's not somepony who would ever be free with his love and is very quiet and observant when he wants to be, just like you, Auntie Luna. Any love he does give is certainly going to be in bulk.

As for a list of everything I know about Sombra? Not much, probably. He even signs his letters to me as 'Sombra the Enigma'. I don't know why, either. He just started doing it one day. Do you know anything about that?

I was the one who started calling him uncle as well, he just accepted it.

Sincerely,

Less Than Best Niece

P.S. I don't think Auntie Celestia trusts me entirely when I wrote a while ago to her saying I had no knowledge of Sombra and what was going on. You may not know it, so I'll let you know now: Celestia has known that you're gone and is sending out Twilight and Rarity to search the east coast (I wasn't able to obtain their exact route, sorry) and Shiny and I to search the west. Shiny is with me because of both my agreement and Auntie's orders, so you won't be hearing from me for a while. I'm waiting for us to be out of the borders of Prance before I tell him what's been going on, since it's still a little too close to Equestria for comfort.

P.P.S I'm in one of those big clunky airships that's blimp-like and really fast. Whee! I forget what they're supposed to be called but Shiny accepts me calling it the whirlygig. It's name is Pink Sunset.





...





Dear Cadance,

He writes that he loves me. He wrote all those things to you, and it's all so upsetting to me. Is that the right word? Upsetting? I feel as if it should be, but I'm not sure what I should feel after reading these letters. Sombra... somehow, even though I don't know him... he knew something about me and cared for me. He tried to keep me from making mistakes, didn't he?

This is all so much...

If I had known earlier, I know that my reaction would have been just as violent, if not more so. I would have been brash, I would have been scared, and my words would have hurt him. I wouldn't have known anything about how he felt.

Sombra is amazing when it comes to observing others. He knew this. He gently tried to push me away without hurting either of us, and it didn't work. Now that I know, I remember one or two times where he was going to tell me.

How uncomfortable I must have made him, and now he's not even here for me to apologize to. It's the first few days all over again, but now I know what was going through his mind. That's comforting. 

Even in his letters, he never looses his sense of charm, and you are right. He did care about me. He acts like he's known me forever and I'm not sure why or how but I think that maybe, just maybe if I try harder I can put this whole matter behind me and continue on my quest. 

I wish you luck in your own matters,

Luna





...





Dearest Cousin Celestia,

I pray that you realize the 'dearest' is merely a formality that I do not wish to maintain for this matter. As you are the more reasonable of you and Luna I write to you requesting that you no longer send your sister or your pawns to my realm. My subjects are free to travel to your kingdom as they please, but your ponies are to refrain from entering my borders as much as possible. I've already had the gate near Styx used twice. First, by Luna and the demon she kept with her, an insolent beast of a fellow, and most recently by the demigod princess, Twilight Sparkle and her unicorn companion.

This occurred just as I was ready to move my court to Tiberia. They spoke a desperate nonsense that has left me with an unshakable irritation since their departure. Why did they appear oblivious to Luna's departure when her leave-taking isn't exactly news to you. I thought that you would have taught your purple disciple to manage the whereabouts of her superiors.

I know that this is one of your usual elaborate pranks, isn't it? What reason would you have to send these two ponies to me claiming that Luna just up and vanished, dragging a demon with her on a pointless quest that caused her to seek out me for information - as if I would tell her what darkness I have seen - only to leave with nothing at all. We both know she doesn't lie, and I observed that she must have told you based on an exchange between her and the monster that followed her.

All that aside, cousin, what is your voice on the matter? Why is your former student bothering to come all the way here to tell me this. Something that doesn't add up with what's been happening.

You shouldn't be too worried about your sister. She's brash and reckless but she's too stubborn to let anything perish - but also too stubborn to listen to others, alas. You may be almost as foolish as her, but you're still the only family I have left, and the only one of you two that ever came close to growing up. We may not agree on much of anything or be in the same room at meetings for too long, and yes, 'cousin' may be just a polite title among us rather than an affectionate truth but we still share the same world. I don't know exactly what happened to you two, somehow managed to survive a world more ravaged by the Collapse than mine was.

We only learn about each other's pasts and presents through the brief pages of history books, and I can't say I've ever loathed that. I've lived a long time without your influence and without any family at all. I don't think you consider me to be the only relative you have left, Luna excepted, somewhere in your heart.

And I can't say I regret this either. Truly, I do think of you as Princess Celestia instead of Cousin Tia, and Luna is but grown version of an annoying tyke from way back when. Now the only thing we have in common is that we both lost the same world and those who lived in it. 'Parents' are but something to glance over in records for me, two faces and a flood of memories I have no feeling towards, except a vague annoyance at something I cannot place - something they did, I imagine. I don't think I'll ever know.

I know not how I learned to be a father to the children I've had with consorts over the centuries, except that my knowledge as a ruler must have lent some wisdom to that department when I saw them at all. Aquastria is and has always been my priority since I was young. I was the heir apparent, and I rose to the crown with no challenges that hindered your paths. 'Family', a concept I put no emotion towards. is a footnote at best, and oftentimes an inconvenience. It interferes with ruling a country and managing the important things in life: duty. I'm surprised to say, my estranged younger cousin, that you seem to have an inkling of knowledge on the subject. It instills a peculiar sense of pride in me.

Speaking of cousins, do you remember those even older than I? They feel like strangers from - as mortal ponies falsely say 'another life' - now. Terra, Fauna, and Flora, how long they've been gone! The order I remember them in is hardly their birth order, but I suppose it matters not, since so few remember them. It is now that I ponder that were I of the equivalent of a fourteen year old mortal or older, as they were, I would have answered the call to war too. You and Luna would have, as well, if you two had been anywhere near that age time. I'm certain we all would have perished by the dark powers that claimed all the others of our kind, too. What difference could you, I, and Luna make as children, regardless of the talent of our species?

Instead of that, we beheld the stagnant waters and new forests grown from ash-ridden soil with our own eyes.

Now it seems that such a thing could happen again, and with our numbers reduced to just your batty sister, you, Elysium, Stolas, and I, it appears we'll have so little fighting chance with just six gods, not nearly as many mortals as there lived in the previous age, and a few toy rocks you call the Elements of Harmony.

So what is the joke behind Luna's latest adventure?

H.R.H. King Neptune of Aquastria, Son of Pontus and Corah





...





Dear Neptune,

There is no joke. I have not played the prank of a foal on you, and you have rebuked any effort of friendship and cheer I have extended in the past. Luna has been missing for months, and I have been desperately searching for her. What joke could there be in that? Only recently did I learn that she was in the company of another - an enemy to us both.

Was Luna okay? Did she look well? Was she under the influence of dark magic?! Did she appear hurt? Why didn't you detain her? Where was she heading? Was she controlling King Sombra well? I know she mustn't have been thinking clearly - that much is clear to me - but did she appear coherent? Why was she talking to King Sombra? Is she using him for something? Did he promise her knowledge or power?

Neptune what have you done, letting her get away like that? You didn't even offer any advice or hints to Twilight and Rarity! You do know where Luna went, don't you?

Luna has been gone for months, Neptune. Months. I have had no word from her, no reports, nothing. All I know is that she may be on this 'quest' - as you have so grandly dubbed her fool's errand - against her will. I do not believe she would stay this far away from her home of her own free will. She's been in a fragile state lately, as you know. I do believe that you remember our discussion of what she did to herself using a bastardization of magic - a construct of sorts that bordered on created life - called the Tantabus. She isn't right in her head and I worry for her each moment she isn't here.

She is my only family, Neptune. While managing the land one rules is important for those like you, Luna, and I, families and consorts are not to be so low in priority as you hold them. All the good ponies of Equestria are like my own children. There is are oaths that dubs me 'Matron of Equestria' because of the bond I have with my ponies.

I may never have had a proper consort, crowned and sitting beside, me or foals of my own, but I will not let you ridicule me and my beliefs in your snide ways because of it.

As for plans to defend the proud land I rule - there are a few I have in mind. One I favor involves apprehending Luna and the outlaw that she is in leagues with. The punishment for detaining royalty in such a manner would usually be death, but he is - by error - an immortal and his power, however dark and vile is considerable. I knew what he was before he sacrificed what little mind he possessed for the power to hurt others as he wished. This instinct that disregards the precious gift of life is still within him - he is but a living weapon with no knowledge of empathy, no true conscious and has not even acknowledged the crimes that he has committed.

Our numbers may not be what they used to be, but whatever force destroyed what was and silenced so many voices is nothing but the purest of evil. If there is anything that those who accept the way of this world will learn it is that only the purest good can win against the other side of the scale.

Thus it is only fitting that the weapon in the shape of a pony that succumbed to such hideous impurity be used as such in order to save those who deserve to live peaceful lives free of such strife that ponies like him cause. He hurt those who could not defend themselves so it is only fitting that he be used to protect them after rejecting every attempt to improve himself as much as he can. King Sombra still continues his old behavior and refuses any kind of reformation or justice which I have so generously offered despite the enormity of his crimes.

Twilight and Rarity will still adhere to the route chosen for them by me. I request that you send them any information regarding your meeting with Luna so they might learn what they will be dealing with. I can enclose a copy of where they travel - and will do so - and any rest stops I have marked. Send your most faithful messenger, as I will not have this information fall into the wrong hooves.

Sincerely,

Celestia





...





Dear Discord,

I appreciate the bouquet of flowers and seashells from Las Pegasus, although the post card flew away - which I didn't exactly appreciate - as soon as I glanced at the pleasant scene painted on it.

How goes your search through Equestria? I'm afraid that there isn't much more of Equestria to search other than the southern desert that we wandered when we were young. If you wish, you may linger in Canterlot if you have nowhere to be.

Without Luna, I have little reason to smile, but I know that you will be able to help me laugh again. 

Still, I worry. Do you think she's hurt?


-Tia





...





Here's a postcard that won't fly away (which is boring - I thought you would enjoy the express mail).

I don't think even a nut like this Sombra could hurt that girl - she's spooky when she wants to be and much too wily to be caught by what you claim to be nothing more than a mad king without style - and no sense of true anarchy. A brutal dictator? Please, that amount of authority is the exact opposite of proper chaos. Luna will be fine in the end.

Believe me, I'll be sure to linger in Canterlot after I pick up a few more souvenirs from these odd little cities of yours.

-D


> Chapter 21: Every Fear That Remains Unspoken
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Luna:


Rays of moonlight danced across the beach, settling on it like a soft silver blanket that made the grains glow with the pale light. At the sound of waves behind me, I dug my bare hooves farther into the soft substance, stifling a giggle as I did so since this was too joyous a silence to waste.

I'm back.

Behind me, floating far enough overhead so the ocean could not touch it was the Sky Scraper, which rocked softly in the fresh night breeze that carried the smell of life, clean and clear in the distance. Its shadow still swayed over the waves smoothly. The edges of the dark reflection were blurred by the aura I had surrounding the ship, gripping it so it wouldn't drift away and dragging it closer to the surface I had missed, where the winds are quiet.

I needed to anchor the ship while I explored the island. I turned around and lowered my head just a bit, the light of my horn steady as the ship touched the water's surface and causing a few ripples to appear, if only for a moment.

After the ship had touched the water I had my gaze rest on the hall and focused my magic differently, preparing for another spell. A faint rope of light appeared from my horn, connecting to the hull, the white light becoming more defined as I held the spell longer, calmly watching as the shimmering fog gained features that could not be mistaken to eyes as keen as mine: the links of a chain. Each bit was as translucent as the ocean water, and as delicate looking as starlight; yet it shone much softer and bore a strength no mortal craft could rival.

I took the end of the chain in my forehoof and my horn flashed once more, dancing with sparks that were too weak to tame, and faded long before they hit the sand, or so it would seemed. I was not startled when the sand beneath my hooves shifted and a stake of silver as pure as moonlight, and flawless in texture so it looked like something frictionless and intangible from a dream, poked out of the ground as if it had always been there.

Quietly, I looped the chain around the stake, securing the Sky Scraper with ease. When that was done I removed the moon-crested necklace I wore and placed it in plain view on the flat top of the stake. It hardly ever mattered to me before whether I wore it or not most of the time, as I hardly felt it, but right now the only thing I wanted was a break. The last few weeks the favored piece of jewelry that had suited me so well felt like a troublesome collar that I wished to discard, and with it, the stress I had endured.

Once that was done, I no longer needed to look at the shores that would mark both my arrival and departure, and I galloped across the shores. The rhythmic thuds of my hooves was the only sound other than the wind whooshing in my ears. The wind kissed my face and caught my mane flowing behind me, tossing it about. I raced on, towards the trees in the distance. My swift strides finding the way easily, as though I could have memorized each place to put my hooves on ever-shifting sandbars.

Somewhere within me, I was laughing, and the first happiness and seeds of relaxation I had since setting hoof on the deck of the Sky Scraper began to bloom.

It didn't take long with my stride length for my hooves to find soil beneath them instead of sand. The silver-barked trees, with their dark leaves of green and purple, rustled as I dashed by, careful not to trip over any roots that poked through the high grass.

Fleeting glimpses as I traveled through, bursting with a foal-like glee within, allowed me to note a few oddities: patches of grass that were trampled, the perplexing sight of hoofprints, and grass here and there...

...that looked as if it had been cut by a sword in haste, by somepony who was unwell...

...and scorch marks, as faint as they were on the trees like spots of blight. I needed no confirmation that they were sure signs of rage or another kind of distress.

Was it relief that flowed through me, as I looked upon these clues with nervous eyes, and my heart in my throat? I knew that there was some mixed in the turmoil that had overtaken my mind in seconds... but there was also a fear I did not know how to explain, and so many things I knew I would have to, and might even want to say. At the same time, I was dreading the only  confrontation I knew that I would never want to make.

I'm not so overcome by my own emotions that I slow my run, but I no longer follow whatever original course has deserted my mind's eye. I don't know the clearing I blunder into, but in an instant I see a shape and feel something register even quicker. In that split second, I make a choice where I can't see the need for something that seems so automatic.

I tackle Sombra to the ground before I can fully make out all his features. Tears sting my eyes as I hug him as tightly as possible with an embrace that put a boa's to shame. I tried to choke out an apology, anything to show how much I missed him, and how much of a mess this is - I never thought I would have seen him again!

Instead I find myself mumbling those words - or some variation of the phrase 'I missed you' - into his neck, sobbing into his hood and unable to pay attention to anything else, including his response which consisted of loud, almost pained coughing. Even though I didn't want to let go of him - I honestly wanted to hug him tighter - I did anyway, praying silently to the stars in my feverish state that he wouldn't run away and wouldn't disappear without a word again.

He sat up slowly, and one of forehooves, with the metal boots collapsed into bands, hugged the right side of his ribs. Sombra winced as he did so, and looked like he wanted to disappear inside his cloak, which was never oversized to begin with, and shrugged around his wither.

I couldn't find his confidence, and that worried me. It was almost heartbreaking to see Sombra without that vital part of him. In my moonlight, I could see the damage that had been done to him in the time we had spent apart. His forelegs were covered with bruises, cuts, and scrapes that he hadn't attended to. It looked as if one or two of them could have minor infections, too. The circles under his eyes were almost as dark as when I first met him, and right now, knowing how much sleep he would have gone without it became painful to survey him. 

Sombra's mane and tail no longer held their disheveled handsomeness, but looked limp and unkempt. I had been close enough to him to know that he had at least kept clean, he wasn't filthy like his summoner, but fatigue and emotional turmoil of his own had taken a toll with sleeplessness.

Knowing him, he hasn't eaten anything, and couldn't have even bothered to touch water much. I know that he doesn't like to eat, and that he doesn't need to eat nearly as much with the benefits of immortality, but his ribs still showed just a bit.

I wanted nothing more to hug Sombra again despite the bruises I saw his hoof pressed over.

"Y-you're a mess," I said after finally manage to swallow my nerve, yet my racing heartbeat was all I could hear, drowning out my own words and everything else.

Sombra said nothing. He gave a horribly irritated glare to me riddled with feelings, some of which seemed toxic, that he almost dared me to decipher.

"I missed you," I repeated for what must have been the sixtieth time, and watched as he scooted away from me so he could lean against a tree, his hood now pulled up so I couldn't tell if he was looking at me as he melded into shadow.

"Sombra, I n-need to talk to you, please."

No response from him.

"It's about what you said on the b-boat," I went on, begging that with all the magic and power I had he would just talk, and I could stop crying for just a little bit; he mattered so much to me, just like Celestia, but he wasn't family. I couldn't help but show my distress around him, how could I be expected to contain anything after what he said to me and then just disappeared?

All he does is look away. It feels like a knife in the chest.

"I'm just so tired. We have so much to say, or at least I do. Sombra, don't you realize how much we need to talk?"

He nods ever so slightly, and I feels as if the weight of the world has been lifted from me.

"...But I am scared, Sombra."

His reply appears to be a questioning tilt of his head, although it is hard to tell in the darkness, even with my sight, because of his hood.

"I'm afraid you'll leave once more, and that I'll wake up and find you gone and have to cry for losing you all over again."

As I sit in the trampled grass of Sombra's sort-of camp, staring across at him, I catch the soft glow of crimson and the dirt at my hooves is altered, gleaming with speckles of gray crystal that I have come to enjoy the sight of. They read:

I WON'T. YOU'RE SAFE.

I let out the breath that had become unbearable to hold, a couple tears of relief coursing down my cheek.

The message changed:

WE'LL TALK TOMORROW.

Beat, I fall to the ground and am so drained that I want nothing more than to just sleep, but have the chance to mumble one last 'I miss you'.

Seeing his nod, however unclear it was, was like a private cause for celebration.

The last thing I remember was a crimson cloak being draped over me some time in the night.



...



I yawn, stretching my forelegs and push myself off of the ground, brushing bits of grass out of my coat as I do so. The sun would need to rise soon, and for that to happen the moon must be lowered. Although, it appeared that I may have slept in just a bit. I often find myself up around three in the morning readying the castle for the day, or just relaxing but today I have slept in, and it's almost dawn.

I quickly rub my eyes and wipe away the last of yesterday's smudged makeup, momentarily regretting I slept in it, knowing I'll have to take extra care to wash it off today. My horn glows with my simple everyday duty, something that is automatic for me, but would cost thousands of mortals their lives with the strain and impossible amounts of power they would need output in order to get the moon into the sky, clearly ignoring any kind of correct placement and the subtle art to the task, as if it were but a chore.

Once I am on my hooves, I wrap Sombra's cloak around me properly, enjoying the warm feeling of the fabric while I search the still-shadowy clearing for the owner. 

Sombra appeared to have occupied this clearing for some time. While I saw no evidence of a proper campfire, traces of some kind of fire and other wear in the grass was evident. Many hoofprints wove paths in and out of the clearing. Many ended nowhere at all, and were simply signs of Sombra pacing. I noticed that others looked as if he had worn his boots for some course of time. 

The trees, too, showed signs of Sombra's presence. One had been chopped in half in some kind of rampage or some other occasion when emotion would have overtaken him. A second had burn marks on it and splinters of äerint buried in the split and chipped silver bark. Fate was stuck into the trunk of a third tree, as easily as if it were merely wedged into a stick of butter.

Sombra himself sat under a separate tree, whose shadow was entangled with half a dozen others that overlapped and made it harder to even see his bright eyes. After a moment of letting my eyes adjust to the rising sun's light, I could see that his eyes were closed, but he did not sleep. He looked quite alert, ears pricked to listen to any sound that was made.

I was about to walk over to him, but as soon as I moved my hoof to take the first step, he disappeared in the light of a teleportation spell, reappearing at my side not even a second later. He refused to look at me, and simply plucked his cloak off my back and slipped it back on.

I missed it as soon as he did. It had been very warm.

"Are you feeling any different, Sombra?"

He still wouldn't look at me. He didn't even move.

"Sombra, you agreed to talk to me last night, and despite all that's happened I still trust you to keep your promise to me. I know that you say what you-"

When he did look at me, there was a strange look in his eyes that I could have figured out if I had been able to look at him long enough to see what else was in that bitter stare of his and finish my statement.

"MMPH!" The butterflies in my stomach and understanding I had tried to extend to him only moments before had transformed into anger in an instant as I pushed him away.

"Absolutely not, Sombra! I came here to try and talk to you!" I wiped my mouth and shot him a cold, steely glare. "Kissing me," I spat, "is certainly not talking to me!"

Sombra stepped away, looking horror-struck. His ears were laid against his head, and his eyes held not the cynical melancholy I would expect from him, but true sadness and even shame.

"...I can't believe I... no, I just... Luna, I-" His voice was tired and his words scrambled and frantic.

"Oh don't you 'Luna' me!" I shouted, stomping a hoof, "You knew exactly what you were doing didn't you?"

"I'm a monster."

"Really? I've been called dramatic before but don't you think you are pushing this too far Sombra? 'Monster' is certainly an extreme-"

Although, perhaps it was I who played the monster in this moment. I really hadn't seen Sombra sad before, and it was almost pitiful if I wasn't so angry with him right now. I wanted to be brash, loud, and if my actions were perceived as such I would be rude if I needed to be.

But I've never seen Sombra cry. Or at least I thought he was crying, while I saw no tears it was clear that Sombra was anguished and that my reaction, as necessary as it had been, might have played a part in this.

It was agonizing to listen to his tear-less sobs. The lump in my throat had returned as I stared at him, feeling just as horrible as he looked right now.

My legs felt more like roots anchoring me so I could bear witness to this horrible sight.

"I'm so sorry, Luna, I really am! I shouldn't have but I did... and..." his rushed words devolve into coughing sobs and I still don't think I can move with a heart this heavy.

I try to say something that could help, but all I manage is to eke out is his name. Upon hearing it he looks at me, and while he may not be crying his eyes certainly look wet with tears.

"You're afraid of me now, aren't you?"

I can't meet his gaze, which is only a different kind of intense now that he's so distraught. My own stare emptily watches the ground, unable to look away. I wanted to cry out that I wasn't afraid of him, never in my life had he been somepony I should have ever feared, even when we had first met one another. What fear I had felt for him then had long since died. Instead, my throat just feels swollen.

I'm sorry, Sombra.

That would be a good place to start, so I try to focus on beating just one bout of anxiety in order to help us both and uproot my legs from this paralysis.

And I do. 

I walk over to Sombra and wrap one forehoof around his neck, bringing us both down to a sitting position before I wrap my other forehoof around him so Sombra has a proper shoulder to cry on, while I take comfort from his presence.

"You can hug me back," I whisper as I hug him tighter, "I'm not mad at you anymore, it was the kiss that made me angry. You didn't ask if-"

He finally hugs me back his sputtering half-sobs only sound worse. All I think to do is feel each bruise and cut I recall yesterday and heal them all, one for each time he calls himself some variation of 'monster' in his choked sounding voice and screaming into my mane that he should just be alone where he won't hurt anypony ever again, and have everything he was once made to do thrust in his face, and how he especially didn't want to ever hurt me, and...

Sombra goes on and on, and I'm unable to reply to some of these things, and the shock that anypony finds me some sort of glorious exception to... something, anything.

He really starts wail, even if there are no tears, when I start whisper back all sorts of things in his ear, telling him that I care about him. I prove it by showing that I figured out the nasty knife stuck in his back: all those things he's said over the years about being a demon is more than just a species he half-hates being, but him seeing himself as the monster that everypony calls him. It's exactly like what I told him upon the Sky Scraper's deck: he does believe some of it.

"I don't hate myself, Luna," is all Sombra manages to say.

"You're right," I whisper in his ear, "You only hate what you are. It's why you chose to call yourself a pony. It's for more than just 'convenience'."

I feel him shaking and the barely stifled scream that comes only moments later. I keep whispering to him and telling him things I've never even considered telling Celestia, all the little dark seeds of grief throughout all the years, like that we're both better off alone in everything we've ever done, and that we really don't need anypony because isolation for the two of us is just a simple fact, a desire at times, but never a tragedy.

And his response was so filled with the bitterness he has buried from everypony else.

"Everypony needs a weapon."

I pull him even closer than he already is. "But I don't need a weapon, and you don't need me. I want Sombra."

He pulls away from me just for a moment to stare me in the eye with that same lovestruck look that mixes so well with his sardonic wit and confidence.

And he tells me that only he has ever wanted himself before.

When I nuzzle him I get to see that furious shade of scarlet that covers his cheeks, and tell him that he's not alone in wanting him any longer.

"We can be alone together," I add with a soft giggle and he agrees automatically. We don't embrace any more, but I sit next to him and he sits next to me under a tree where not even a leaf could fit between our withers while we relax in the afternoon shadows.

He definitely doesn't have a mere 'crush' on me. Sombra is too sincere about something that I have yet to discover. I won't dwell on it when I can enjoy my time with him. He'll probably tell me anyway, if I were to ask him later.

"Do you love me?" Sombra asks after a long time. He's going to need something to drink soon, all that screaming has only taken a larger toll on his voice. He only speaks quietly now.

"It's... complicated."

"So are we," is Sombra's matter-of-fact and automatic response.

"You're more than my friend."

He glares at a leaf that falls into his mane before incinerating it with magic that keeps his mane unscorched. "Right."

"I do not think of you as family, but I care about you strongly."

"I see."

"...But it doesn't feel like I love you as deeply as you love me."

I tilt my head to catch a bit more of his expression, which is stoic, or would be if his eyes didn't betray an expectant curiosity and warmth.

"Could I just have more time to give you an answer?"

"Why are you asking me? It's your choice, Luna, and you have all the time in the world to make it."

"The world might actually end, you know."

"Eh, it happens."

"But yes, it is true... and I thank you for respecting that it is my choice. More pressure is the last thing I need right now."

Sombra offered what might have been a warm smile, but it just came out looking like he was vaguely and adorably confused by something that might be caught in his teeth.

"It's not like anypony can force the love you feel," I add with a good-natured laugh.

Sombra's expression changes instantly to something much more akin to dark apprehension but I know this look from my time around him.

"I have the power to control minds, Luna."

"You're not a monster, Sombra."

"Only a monster would have that power." His tone is flat except for the tinges of misery and loathing that find their way into his words.

"Only a monster would abuse it, and you don't. Sombra, you know the misery something like that could bring from personal experience."

"But we both know that there is likely somepony out there with a twisted philosophy - like Onyx, or maybe those changelings I've heard of  - that believes something like earnest love could be forced by-" Sombra shudders slightly and I wrap a forehoof around his withers to comfort him as he reluctantly speaks the last words like the plague they are to him "...those kinds of magic."

"You really are a hopeless romantic in almost every regard, aren't you?"

Sombra draws back a bit. "Who told you that?!"

I smile and snuggle closer to him. "So you are~!"

Sombra makes a face of grumpy disdain and looks away. "Hmph. I am, yes... but only a little."

"You're cute when you sulk."

"Gah! 'Cute' does not do the Right-Honourable Lord Sombra justice. I am dashing. Or handsome. I can even be overwhelmingly charming."

"You're also cute."

"I will not hesitate to kill anypony else who dares to mock me like that," Sombra grumbles as he makes no effort to hide that he's scooting closer to me before he puts a forehoof around my withers and pulls me close. I almost decided against it; I wanted to get up and stretch my legs again. Instead, I let him do so, since my time with Sombra has taught me one of the most important things: demons love to cuddle.

Or at least Sombra is quite partial to it.

"We need a rule."

Sombra pricked his ears forward and looked at me inquisitively, blinking once. "Hmm?"

"You're in love with me."

"That I am."

"But I'm not, and I did get mad at you earlier."

"Listen, I'm incredibly sorry about that-"

I nodded in understanding. "I know, but I think we need to try and set some kind of rules up, because even though I enjoy your affection," I grinned when I saw Sombra blush slightly "I don't want us to have a misunderstanding again, and I'm not very used to all this."

"I second that," he mumbled, cheeks still colored slightly.

"How about this: since we both are alright with hugging, we don't need to ask for that. Do you mind if I were to nuzzle you without asking?"

Sombra leans over and nuzzles me. "Not in the slightest."

"Alright, then that can go in with hugging," I add, leaning closer to him.

Sombra nods.

"I really didn't like it when you kissed me, Sombra..." I mutter, ducking my eyes so I didn't have to meet his haggard crimson gaze.

"It won't happen again, Luna. You have my word."

"Thank you. What about when I kissed you on the cheek? Did you dislike that or were you merely uncomfortable because I didn't know about umm, well..." I plucked a few flowers from the ground - pink and blue blossoms - and began fiddling with them as I nervously awaited his answer.

"The latter."

I fiddled with the flowers some more, linking and knotting them as I gave a sigh of relief.

"How about anything that isn't on the cheek, we ask one another? I-Is that alright?"

Sombra makes that face again, the one that makes it seem like he thinks something is caught between his teeth. "I'm comfortable with it if you are."

I smile, feeling awfully flattered. "You can't smile well, can you?"

He smirks and raises an eyebrow. "It isn't exactly something that suits me."

"Oh?"

"But smiling sure suits you."

"Oh..."

Sombra's smirk widens and my face grows hot. "I can see I'm not the only one who can blush here."

"You're the Princess of Blushing, Sombra." I say, trying to only focus on the flowers I hold in my magic, but not before I give him a friendly punch on the wither. His only response is a quizzical stare.

"I'm the Princess of Pizza," Sombra says haughtily.

"Pizza is gross."

"Damn heretic, you're lucky I love you!"

"Aww, you said it!"

"I've said it again," Sombra corrects.

I loop the last of the flowers together and raise a flower crown up, placing it on Sombra's head. His response to the new addition is merely to look up at it, unmoving with a look of apathetic contemplation.

Since he's distracted by the flower regalia, I take the chance to get up and finally stretch my legs. We had spent so long talking together that evening was soon upon us, and I would need to raise the moon shortly.

"It was frightening when you first told me; that's why I ran away."

No longer preoccupied by the gift I had bestowed upon him, Sombra turns to me. His expression is that of grim worry.

"Why?"

He stares me straight in the eye awaiting an answer that he would probably laugh at or disregard, he is a romantic after all.

"Lots of things made me run away," I begin cautiously, "but mostly fear."

"Philophobia?" 

I look at Sombra, dumbstruck and then right back at the ground. My face burns with shame, and I can't bear to shake my head in a 'no', so I offer a quiet-toned correction instead: "I-I... Sombra, I just do not want to let my guard down because so much has happened and I..."

I don't know how to finish, to explain, or if I want to.

I try to hide that I'm getting teary-eyed, and want nothing more than to leave now that I feel this sudden discomfort, but Sombra gets up and rests a hoof on my wither.

"Do you think I could have fallen for somepony without the courage I've seen you display? You can't be courageous if you've never had anything to fear; even I've been afraid of things before. You've seen me afraid."

"This is so hard for me. I do really like you, it's not you Sombra. There's just so much going on in my head... it isn't just that, of course... but I still don't want to be afraid, not of you."

Sombra just stands there while I give him a hug. He wasn't going anywhere, he told me himself.

"Were you planning to go anywhere when you got up?"

I don't want to let go of him, not again. I found him after I thought I'd never see him again, and he still loves me. He isn't rushing things, or anything that I had feared. He's understanding, and part of me wouldn't mind loving him in the future.

"I wanted to get us something to eat from the ship's stock of food. I'm tired and hungry, and you need to eat something too."

I feel Sombra look up at the sky and adjusting his forehoof to hug me tighter when he feels my nerves get the better of me and make me want to run away even though my mind is screaming for me to stay. He knows that they're just nerves, that I don't want to listen to them, because I know what they as well, even though I'm so tempted to listen to them.

His forehoof strokes my mane when my legs start to shake. Sometimes I feel like I could do anything and go anywhere, and then the next second I'm a shaking mess who can't decide whether I want a hug from him or to run away.

"You can relax, Luna. I'm not going to let anything happen to you. Remember what I promised last night, that you're safe? You still are. You're the one pony I would never leave, not again."

His mane smells like grass, wind, and moonlight. Sombra's much warmer than his cloak is.

"Does the ship's supply even have vegan food?" Sombra asks me quietly as we stand here hugging each other in the woods like, ah how would Cadance put it? 'Weirdos'. Yes, Sombra and I are weridos, and to be ordinary would be such a curse. I'm thankful to know there's somepony else as odd as I.

"I didn't know you were a vegan. Do grumpy vegans exist?"

"I'm one of a kind."

"Yet you like pizza..."

"Yet I'm in love with a heretic..."

He always finds a way to make me laugh, and even though I may feel horrible right now I'm laughing anyway until I feel bold enough to pull away from Sombra.

I look him in the eyes, and give him an awkward smile that's just enough to let him know that I'm feeling better.

"I'll go make you something vegan-y, since I don't recall there being any pizza and vegan cuisine."

"If your military rations are not composed of entirely pizza within the next twenty years, you can kiss half of your population nation's goodbye."

"Wouldn't you be jealous?"

"Of what?"

"Me kissing half of Equestria instead of you," I add cheekily, working up enough courage to plant a kiss on his cheek.

"F-Fine. Deprive you populace of pizza and give all the world's pizza to me instead."

"You're still blushing just a little bit," I add with a delighted squeal before running off in the direction of the Sky Scraper, stirring a few leaves as I go.

"I'll be back!" 

"That's right you heretic, you better run!" Sombra shouts after me.

"You still love me!" I call back.

"I do!" was his reply, and while he wasn't gleeful or dorky like most ponies would sound saying that, I heard happiness in his tone, and knew that he was happy in his own way.



...



I returned to our clearing with a can of tomato soup that I had heated with my magic as best as one possibly could without much knowledge of cooking related magics. When I returned, I found it empty except for a bright flame of green and violet burning and floating in the air.

I took a few steps closer only to discover it moved, darting down another path in the forest, flickering me as a beckon to follow.

And follow I did until I reached a cliff in a part of the forest so dense I could not see the moon I raised from the Sky Scraper's deck if I looked from the forest floor up the moss-covered rocky barrier in search of stars.

An unmistakable voice called my name and the flame burned out, to my left stood Sombra among a few trees that acted as markers for a natural path that unfolded behind him.

He waited for me to meet him there, saying nothing and merely glancing at the remains of a plain label still on the can that did nothing more than state the contents. Thin tendrils of steam curled off and floated into the air as we started our walk in peaceful silence, I followed him to a small cave that was hardly big enough for a large bear, yet the wind had worn the perfect space for Sombra and I to stay.

"Is this where you have been residing?"

Sombra only grunted in reply before speaking of other matters. "I came here eventually after I jumped off the boat, you know."

I ducked inside to the stone abode, and settled down near the back in warm shadows where I leaned against the stone wall that was neither rough or smooth. Carefully, I levitated the soup over to him once he sat down, not far from where I was. I could see his profile against the moonlight, and felt nothing but exhaustion and began to nod off, but only a bit. My ears were still pricked forward in order to listen to what he had to say.

"I fell as a shadow, and just used the spell that allowed me to walk on water to get here. I had no idea that it was the same island you sought."

"It is," I said with a yawn, lazily watching as Sombra lit one of his strange dark fires in a small circle of stones before opening the can with his magic and then holding the floating container away from his face, his features in a look of disgust and a familiar fiery disdain returning to his eyes, which have their own vibrancy that outshine the red that colors Fate. I look sleepily to the sword, which currently leans on the right wall.

"Aren't tomatoes red?"

"Huh? Yes, why?"

"This is frothing and tar black. What exactly did you brew here, witch?" he says, but his bemused tone is offset by the playful smirk creeping across his face. With the small gap in his fangs peeking through where I knocked out a couple of teeth, and the flower crown he still wears at an awkward angle, Sombra is unbearably handsome. He catches the way I'm looking at him, widening smirk telling me he knows that he is too, right before giving a slight toss of his rather long mane on purpose and let out a short, dry chuckle.

"Were you trying to poison this princess?"

"I can't cook, Sombra."

"I can," he declares, pushing out his chest with pride, "and didn't you say you were going to get something for yourself as well?"

"Ah! Stars above, I did say that but now... maybe I can-"

"Humbly beseech your favorite demon to bring you some food and make something for himself that won't..."

He knocks the can into the fire with a dramatic wave of his forehoof, and we both watch as the two-toned flame changes color and begins to eat away the metal. Once it absorbs the 'brew' I had allegedly made is absorbed, the fire begins to burn black.

"Damn, Luna does that even need explaining?" Sombra can't tear his eyes away from the flame and can somehow manage to combine the looks of disgust and bewilderment into something so sassy and utterly Sombra.

"Yes, I, ah, humbly request that you..."

"You're falling asleep as we speak."

"...uh? I am?"

He rolls his eyes, pretending to be upset. "Just close your eyes for a bit, I'll be back once I get something for us to eat and check on Fish. I think I might have even missed that idiot."

I fell asleep soon after he left, only waking when I smelled food and saw Sombra with a bag of something next to him and staring at me while pouring tomato soup into what appeared to be black coffee.

"You're bizarre."

"You're cute when you snore," he retorted.

"I-"

Stars, he looks so smug right now...

Ravenous, I leapt toward the bag that he had brought back only to find it full of...

"Mathematics books? Sombra, how am I supposed to eat these?

"If the uncultured heathen were to look to the strange fire we had earlier, then she would find a dinner I made for her."

"She still is curious about the math books."

There was that special smirk that he reserved just for when we bantered like this - something more than playful and just a touch of warmth mixed in with his arrogance. "You think I'd settle for just this-" he thrusts the mug of coffee-mato soup under my muzzle, and while it doesn't smell bad I had no desire to eat it, "-when I can have some food for my mind as well? You might not know me as well as you think."

"Is that so?" I countered with a scoff as I grabbed the small meal-box he had brought and placed by the fire. "Then why don't we open this and see how well you know me."

I popped off the plastic lid to find a bowl of what proved to be some plain broth with vegetables to make up for the standard fare, but not much else as far as I could see, until I moved the spoon aside and gasped.

"Butterscotch candies?!"

"Now, how about you eat your words?"

I turned around to give Sombra my biggest grin yet. I don't know how he got them, or how they got into military rations - which I doubt they did. Leave it to Sombra to find out the little things about somepony and make them his accepted ally with the information, or his fiercest foe.



...



For once, I was so worn that the prospect of sleep that after eating everything in a manner that caused Sombra to look at me like I was a dragon ravaging a village and duck out of the cave for a while. I had forgotten that he could be a bit finicky when others ate around him. A few times on the Sky Scraper I would find an apple appealing and grab one as a snack. Sometimes, he didn't care and was focused on something else, but he was usually a bit off when such a thing happened. He might leave a room as soon as he came in, muttering in disgust if he saw me devouring a salad that I had whipped up from the goods stored in the enchanted icebox-esque crates that had been on the ship.

I would have offered any kind of small apology as well, but he stayed outside for a while and I drifted off to sleep. So much pressure and what-ifs that had been particularly bothersome for the course of my time alone was now lifted and gone.

As a light sleeper, I never took kindly to any kind of disturbance that didn't blend with nature's usual lullaby, and awoke in the middle of the night trying to find the source of a strange noise.

It was dark in the cave now. The the fire was put out just hours ago. Although, my eyes had no trouble at all looking for the source of the sound... if I had any clue as to what it was! I could see the distinct shapes of the plastic dinnerware and mug left over from our meal in a small pile next to the fire's remains, and the form of Sombra lying down towards the back right wall of our den while I had taken the left.

What was it that could be making such a deep rumbling sound? It was far too steady to be any kind of growl and sounded more like a gentle kind of thunder. I was reminded of the purr of a cat, yet the only cats I had known made small warbling melodies when compared to the deep sound of this purr. I had read that a few larger felines could purr, and whatever was making this sound had to be roughly the same size. Except that no felines lived on this island, and I knew of none who ever brought any here either.

"Sombra?" I called softly, sitting up slightly in case I needed to move quickly.

He didn't stir.

"Sombra, do you hear that?"

There was the sound of him clearing his throat and the purr stopped. Did the creature making it know we were talking?

"What is it, Luna?"

"Did you not hear that sound?"

"Could you clarify what sound you're referring to?" he mumbled, speech slightly slurred from being awoken - or at least I had presumed he was sleeping, since his breathing had been so quiet and he still hadn't moved.

"There was a rumbling noise that was like the purr of a cat. Did you hear it?"

He lifted his head and looked at me. I could see an expression of some kind of disbelief, but his expression was still quite fuzzy in the darkness, so his confusion was mostly in his tone.

"Cats can make that kind of sound too?"

"What? Was that you purring?"

"Yes it was. Did I scare you?"

I shook my head in case he was as tired as I and did not hear all that I said. "No, you did not frighten me. Still, I wonder how you do that - you're not a cat."

"I think it's an attribute of demons."

Too comfortable to walk, I teleported next to him, trying to soften the light of the spell so it wouldn't hurt his eyes or my own.

"Do you know how you do it?" I ask placing my head in his forehooves. He was lying down on his stomach, and that combined with purring, fangs, and other traits gave him the uncanny resemblance to a feline.

I watched as he tilted his muzzle so he could look down at me with amusement twinkling in his eyes, making his usually stoic or bored expression all the more interesting. "Of course I know how I do it. Would you like me to explain?"

I roll over so his forehooves had my mane draped across them and I can meet his eyes, smiling.

"Yes, I would like that very much."

"Alright, then. The first step is this."

He takes one of my forehooves in his magic and slowly guides it to his throat, placing it there. I hold it there once his magic lets it go, feeling nervous until I can feel him gulp as well. Maybe he feels something similar.

"Keep that there," he says, horn lighting with the aura of dark magic instead of crimson.

His horn keeps glowing for a few more seconds before the smoky magic dims and I feel that Sombra is indeed purring beneath my hoof.

I gasp with excitement, breaking into a wide grin. Sombra looks down at me and the left side of his mouth curls into a self-satisfied smirk, and he stops purring much to my sudden disappointment.

"You get such a foal-like glee out of something so simple, huh?"

I nod, my hoof still on his throat and curiosity peaked as I wait for him to purr again.

"Did you figure out how I do it?"

"No, but could you please do it again?" I ask, sticking my tongue out at him and pouting.

He sighs and chuckles faintly. "I will if it impresses you that much, but first I'd like to explain to you how I do it. Do you remember when your ax got stuck in my chest on the Sky Scraper?"

I tilt my head in the faintest nod.

"I can change different parts of my body into shadow without shifting over entirely. It does take practice, though. Some parts can be harder to change than others. I can't change my chest to shadow long like with the ax. Had that gone on any longer, I would have looked very sick. I taught myself how to change my forelegs to shadow, and you know that my mane and tail can look very shadowy when I let dark magic and my temper mingle."

I nod again, sitting up just enough so I can give him a quick kiss on his jaw before resting my head on his forelegs again. "Did you change your throat to shadow?"

"Not quite. I altered my vocal chords. Have you figured out how I can make the noise yet?"

"Well, when you're a shadow - I can't say I've seen this for myself, but Shining and some of the others reported that after your so-called defeat you could make these strange calls when you were a shadow."

"Can you figure out how I do that?" he asks, staring at the forehoof I still had pressed against his throat as if it were some kind of rival he hoped to challenge.

"Would you be upset if I guessed dark magic?"

Sombra looks unsurprised, but I see him roll his eyes anyway.

"While you are technically correct with that absolutely eloquent answer, it's much more complex like that. As a shadow, I can produce vibrations. So, if I change my vocal chords and alter my larynx, which isn't very hard for me as it feels natural to me, I can vibrate them at different frequencies and in different ranges. I can sound like different ponies or produce different sounds. The most natural of these outside of my normal range would be the purring."

"Do you know any other voices?"

"Yours and Pink One's; or at least your speaking voices."

I poked his cheek and he made a soft, startled growl-like noise in the back of his throat and shot me a rather bemused glare.

"You could be your own symphony with enough practice."

He snorts at the prospect. "I could."

"Is that how you were able to make your voice sound so unnaturally deep when I first met you, by using that unfitting and exaggerated hiss?"

"That was Onyx abusing the ability by trying to sound like a 'real evil king', and using the power near constantly and so incorrectly that I had a hard time speaking in my own voice on occasion."

"Oh..." I said sadly, reaching with my free hoof to my own throat and trying to imagine how that felt. In the years following the return of my sister and I to the land that would become Equestria I had slipped farther and further into an inescapable muteness that became more than just an inability to speak up to any other than a sister who wouldn't listen.

"I'm fine now," Sombra said as soon as he saw my expression, "but my legs aren't used to having another using them as a headrest."

"Ppht."

"You can stick your tongue out at me all you want once you get up."

"I wanted to feel you purring," I pouted.

"You can once you get up."

I comply and sit up, plucking a few bits of dirt out of my mane with a few flicks of magic and look at him for an answer of what to do next.

Sombra just rubs his forelegs slightly before rolling onto his side and closing his eyes. For a moment I stared at him, puzzled until I saw him gesture - without opening his eyes - that I could lie down near him, if I wished.

When I don't make a decision right away, I see that familiar flash of white fangs and hear that laughter that always manages to sound sardonic, no matter the occasion.

"Come on, Luna. I don't bite."

I swallowed. Small decisions were never simple when my nerves, as irrational as they were right now, wanted me to run or just go somewhere else when I knew that I didn't want to. Half of me would love to just be near Sombra and try to take one step away from this fear that never made sense around him, of all ponies, but the other half of me had plenty of reasons to keep quiet and not want to share any secrets with him or open up at all.

I wasn't afraid of something like this a few minutes ago, but every time I'm offered any choice that might make me nervous something like this happens. Sometimes I manage to do something and make a difficult choice while other times I'm... this and-

"I don't bite, Luna," he repeats.

I look into Sombra's now-open eyes and try to clear my war-torn mind. I adore Sombra, but I fear love because I never tried to get close to anypony like this, and I don't know what I'm supposed to do...

...and Sombra's purring again, still looking at me he offers a forehoof.

I take a deep breath. I adore Sombra.

Just try to focus on that.

I trust Sombra.

He's not cruel, he wouldn't hurt me.

I put one hoof in his and sit down with a thud.

I don't have to tell him about the Tantabus yet.

I hold his hoof tighter and plop onto the dirt, lying near him. It's always nice to see his eyes. He understands, and he just wants to cuddle with me, or to at least be close. I don't think I'm okay with cuddling yet.

I just have to take small steps.

I slip my hoof out of his and stretch it so it traverses the short distance between us to gingerly rest on his throat. Sombra's gaze follows it, a slight flick of his ears telling me that he doesn't mind.

When I look deeper I see something else, too. He's proud of me.

Of us both.

I allow myself a smile and laugh softly, even though it sounds nervous, it's a happy kind of nervous.

It's so nice when he purrs.

All I remember before slipping into a dreamless sleep is thinking that the negative space between us doesn't feel so bad.
> Chapter 22: Even the Castle Must Fall
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Luna:


"Sombra," I called, shaking the slumbering form of the demon, "it's morning; you can wake up now."

His ears flick, so I know he can finally hear me, because I'm not about to spend another twenty minutes trying to get him to wake up. Knowing that he needed rest after all the time he spent alone on this island, I decided it would be kind to forgo waking him up at the time I usually rose whenever I needed or desired to adopt a diurnal schedule. That time was around three in the morning.

During the four and a half hours I had to myself, I hadn't done much more than walked around in circles in the area surrounding the camp, or perching in trees to play with birds, and mimicking their calls after I had lowered the moon.

Sombra's current response was to paw at his bangs with his forehooves when a beam of sunlight fell across his face. He had stopped purring sometime after I had fallen asleep, and except for a few grumbling noises, he was silent now.

"I'm going to drag you out into the open by your tail and dump the entire contents of a rain cloud on you if you don't wake up in ten minutes."

Sombra just made himself more comfortable on the ground. The night's sleep had certainly done him good; he no longer looked as fatigued as he had the day before.

"I'll walk over to the Sky Scraper and get you a cup of coffee if you get up."

At the word 'coffee' Sombra lit his horn and teleported into a sitting position, eagerly searching for what wasn't there. He ran one of his forehooves through his always disheveled mane to free it from dirt, and the remains of the flower crown he had slept in before tossing it over his withers. He looked remarkably attentive, despite the lingering traces of sleep deprivation under his eyes.

"Where?"

"I-"

"I want coffee."

"...I don't have it yet. I'll go get you some."

He looked out at the weather, and saw the sky was sunny and clear-skied, which was not the preferred conditions of either of us, and blinked a few times before ducking out of the sunlight and pulling his hood up.

"Could I come with you?"

I smiled and nodded. The reason I had wanted to wake him up was so I could spend the day with him, and here he was, already volunteering to be in my company.



...



In his magic's grasp Sombra levitated my necklace and a covered cup of black coffee that he was taking infrequent sips from. I had asked him about his sudden craving for the drink, and if he had it before in his travels. He told me that the first time he had it was last night, when he was curious to what it was. 

He still was wary of water, in some cases, even when I told him there was no need to be. Sombra had shrugged, falling a few paces behind me as we walked along a stretch of the beach. I hadn't caught all of his mutterings as he did, but the few scraps I had heard saddened me. I knew not whether Sombra had intended for me to hear any of them at all, but it appears that he might have a fear of being poisoned, or at least the idea of having a toxic substance of any kind in him.

'Onyx' is the name that drifts through my mind, the most toxic thing he's likely encountered. How could I blame him for developing such a fear? I know only from the margins of history that there were attempts on his life, but I can only imagine that perhaps Onyx tried to push Sombra close to death or poison him in a fit of immaturity, anger, or some other vile emotion that he had just for Sombra.

Sombra wasn't particularly fond of sand, either. While he did not loathe it, he wouldn't let his bare hooves touch the surface. He continued to follow a few steps behind me, but still close enough that we could talk if we chose to, while dawdling on the particular stretch of sand I chose for us to frequent. I don't think Sombra cared where we went.

"So what were you planning, Luna?" Sombra asks, watching as I pick up seashells strewn across the pale sand, and plop them into rinsed-out dinnerware. I had not returned it to the ship's store of cutlery for this very occasion. The soft colored material in various pastel and light tones of browns and whites no longer sparkled once my aura released them. I peeked into the container. There weren't enough yet.

Since he was too busy waiting for my reply, Sombra either didn't see or simply didn't care about the crab he almost tripped over.

I hummed a simple melody, peacefully continuing the stroll while Sombra loudly threatened to annihilate crabs from every corner of the universe. He called them 'beach-cacti' on multiple occasions, screaming that his mane looked nicer than their entire species ever could, and how dare one of them even touch anything that makes contact with him while try to pinch him with their freaky little claws.

After that ruckus dies down, he catches up with me again, his usual disgruntled expression dominating his features. For a moment, he appears distracted before my necklace, which is still in his possession and steals his attention. He walks up to me, brushing against my side a bit. I admit, that startled me slightly and I halted. That was exactly what he wanted, or so said the look he gave me. He pushed my mane out of his way with a hoof and levitated my necklace back to its place, fastening the ink-dark piece to its usual spot on my neck again.

I wanted to say something - perhaps thank you? - but felt a tad tongue-tied. So, I just bobbed my head in a grateful nod as he sipped his coffee with amusement at my mild bashfulness.

When I started walking again - maybe just a little faster than before - he followed without a word, absentmindedly casting judgemental glares at the ocean and strutting where he pleased, no longer caring about the inquiry he had made moments before. He began to poke a series of dots in the sand - a pattern too precise to be out of mere fancy - with small swishes of crimson magic that fell like little sparks no bigger than the grains themselves.

"What are you doing?"

He didn't look away but responded freely. "I'm running an algorithm and using the sand as storage."

I blinked at his smooth reply. "Pardon?"

"Do you not know what that is, or do you just need a more complex explanation?"

"I'm afraid I don't know," I reply before adding a few more seashells to my unfortunately modest collection.

I know that Sombra didn't care about my awfully bland reply - it might have been a bit disappointing to him - and not to be offensive, but because he was so engrossed in the peculiar pattern he was poking into the sand.

I hummed and continued adding more ranks to my little troop of shells until it was something to boast about, at least among the two of us. I tried to come up with an interesting tune or two to hum as I worked, something with a few notes that could be swapped around in a simple refrain, or exchanged for words if I wanted to make something more another time.

It took me a surprisingly long time to realize that the merry-sounding melody I had come up with was our names converted to simple notes over and over again...

Luna and Sombra...

Sombra and Luna...

He didn't notice... and it didn't sound half bad either, so I continued repeating the innocent refrain, feeling just a bit giddy as I did so.

Luna and Sombra...

Sombra and Luna...

...Over and over again. 



...



"Here we are!" I said, proudly waving a hoof in one sweeping motion over a large undisturbed sandbank free of any signs of plants or animal tracks. I balanced the plastic container, now overflowing with shells in the other forehoof.

Sombra looked up from the long strings of dots that he made leading us here, not showing any amusement or much of a response beyond glancing over the place. His left eye twitched faintly until he shielded his eyes from the late noon sunshine with a hoof. Much to the chagrin of both of us, no clouds had rolled by to make the endless blue more interesting and a bit less... bright, at least for him. The poor fellow really enjoys a nocturnal routine.

"What are we going to do? Make a summoning circle with shells?"

"I already have a demon. Do you think I want another?"

"That's demon racist," Sombra snaps... well, I'm not sure I'd call it snapping. He just replied so quickly in a bizarre tone that makes it too hard for me to tell if he's joking, being serious, or just boasting a few eccentricities and mad little quirks.

"I... apologize," I offered awkwardly as I gave him a look, "I had forgotten that you prefer to be called a pony-"

"I was joking, Luna. You can get away with calling me that-" he winces visibly at just substituting the name of his species "-once or twice if you stay teasing, tactful, or both."

I give a sigh part relief, part grief at the thoughts that must plague him when ponies think he's at his strongest: pushed into turmoil because of the things they say, the little whispers that are just venomous myths that are passed off as justifications, and history I had only sadly glanced over, wondering what was and wasn't until I met him. Now, they are so blatantly wrong - blunt cruelty to his much-needed blunt truths - that make me want to step between whatever phantom mobs haunt him and toss their stones at Sombra. He is only innocent of the things they say, and guilty of being too different, even by modern Equestrian standards, as much as it would be denied.

The very ponies he unwillingly helped demonize him for hiding such a demonic individual like Onyx are some of his inner demons...

...Oh stars, how horrid a thing these words are, how false!

"You must hate much of popular vernacular."

His gaze gives me a once-over, trying to figure out my thoughts with more precision and inquisitiveness than I've observed in on-the-job cartographers and surveyors of old. "Not particularly. There's a few oddities to it, and the inevitable stupid term that takes root every now and then, but not much. My speech blends in better here than it did in the Tribal Era. At least the crystal ponies didn't use those pesky thees and thous of the Tribal ponies. Those really were something. Still, modern language is pretty interesting at times, both from dipping into the roots of the Old World and some things entirely-" His eyes spark with a new direction of thought. "Have I ever explained to you all the wonders of 'irony' in this day and age?"

"No, that's not what I meant. I was referring to phrases like 'demonize' and 'demonic'..."

Sombra's expression darkened, and I saw dark magic begin to creep into his eyes.

"... or even more popular notions like 'inner demons'..."

"Oh, that one I have a very personal resentment for," he snarled, fangs bared.

"...Things like that. Those are the things I never want to say again. It would feel like hitting you and spitting in your face each time, and personally dragging your name through the dirt."

His expression relaxes, eyes reflecting a mixture of gratitude, flattery, and his favorite emotion to direct towards me... one I was now able to identify.

"...Sombra, I want to show you something," I say quietly, when it becomes more than 'a bit' overwhelming to have him looking at me like that right now. I wonder how many of his lovelorn glances I had missed before now. Would that have hurt him?

Thankfully, he's perceptive enough to quietly watch as I plop onto the sand, with my seashell collection positioned next to me. He looks slightly disgusted with the idea of lying on his stomach in the sand, but lowers himself down right across from me like I wanted. He makes no effort to hide his discomfort when his eye twitches again - the one that used to be blind - he doesn't get up. Instead, he looks at my forehooves, which are spread in the area of sand between us, one that is just big enough for a design.

"Could you give me something to write with?"

Sombra's questioning gaze meets mine - which refuses to betray anything. "So we are summoning something?"

I shake my head, and with an awfully good-natured roll his eyes, dark magic flares onto his horn and I find a crude stylus of gray crystals fall into my waiting hooves. I take it eagerly and begin to outline plans into the sand that I had just smoothed, while he watches curiously, eyes following each movement of the shard gripped with turquoise magic of my own that drew out each clear stroke I had envisioned in my mind.

"Is this a siege map?"

"No, Sombra, but that was a good guess."

He grunts and rests his head on his metal-clad forehooves, eyes still following each movement as he watches in silence again. A picture of sorts starts unfolding before his eyes, which are hungry for details.

When it becomes clear to him that I might take a while, he starts to purr. The sound is softer than what I heard yesterday. None of this is going to support his claims that he isn't as cat-like as I claim, but he certainly doesn't mind right now.

Once I finish, I look at him and his eyes meet mine, subdued curiosity still lingering in them. 

"Done."

Sombra yawns slightly. "Oh? Well then, what exactly are all these blueprints supposed to be for?"

I levitate a clump of sand over from a different spot on the sandbank, and place the stylus onto his muzzle. His horn blinks with magic and it disappears. Sombra sits up and watches me place the sand over a section of the 'blueprint' and begin to sculpt it.

"Come on, Sombra. Help me shape the walls!"

He still looks horribly confused, but after a minute of contemplation he lights his horn with crimson again, and his aura takes hold of the sand I was working on, mixing with my turquoise glow. Once the first quarter of the wall closest to me - we decided it was the west wall once we figured out the direction we were situated at on the island with a quick check of the sky - Sombra finally allows his boots to retract with a few soft clinks. He shyly tries to place his forehooves over the section of the west wall I work on, fighting off a look of apprehensive disdain at touching sand with his bare hooves before just throwing caution to the wind, and digging his hooves into the sand with a shudder. 

Placing my hooves over his, Sombra lets me help him build our sand castle, and I didn't mind when he looked at me that way again. I was too busy trying to help him sculpt a tower that met where two walls did, and I didn't notice for some time.

I found myself tongue-tied once again as I met his gaze - and he seemed to find this delightful - before we both looked at the sand once again to continue.



...



"This is now as cold as snow," Sombra declared, frowning with disappointment and wrenching the plastic coffee cup back in the sand, where he had been keeping the nearly empty cup.

I continued to pick shells out of their temporary home and line battlements of the outer bailelies with the pretty souvenirs. After he gave another glare to the cold coffee to make his distaste with it more obvious, he returned to the same task, finding quiet amusement in inspecting each one and floating it by his careful eye to be arranged in various patterns. Sombra's efforts weren't just a parade of colors lining the structure like my decoration.

I'm surprised he's actually enjoying this... or bothering to join me for such a foalish activity. He always seemed so mature and-

"Seashell for your thoughts?" Sombra asks with a sly look, floating a small purplish conch under my muzzle.

"You are so different," I blurt after fitting another shell into its new home in the walls of our multi-walled sandcastle we had spent the whole afternoon building.

"Care to offer more detail? You're awfully good with words when you want to be."

"Oh, why thank you. You're incredibly charismatic yourself. What I meant was -" I took a moment to add a couple of shells to the walls again, careful not to ruin the construction as I pressed them in "-I've never met another arrogant pony like you."

"Why do you think that is?" Sombra said quietly, intently gazing at the little bits of seashore decor, even if they were the last thing on his mind.

"Sombra, you have got to be the most arrogant, egotistical, and confident creature I've ever met and even heard of... yet you're also one of the most caring, honest, and complex individuals I have had the pleasure to meet."

"Caring?" Sombra mutters, "That's a new one."

He knows that I can tell there's a bitterness he refuses to hide in those words.

"Yes. You're very caring and stubborn, just like me... I can't exactly say I know many ponies like that. You also happen to be a bit vain, and very aggressive, but your shrewdness is not paired with the desire for superficial things or power like most creatures of that sort I could name. I think you probably know more than most how appearances are deceiving. You judge character very well, and aren't sadistic because you think you can get away with every deed you do, which is a rarity in all the criminals I've had to deal with and the everyday pony."

"I've gotten away with plenty of things."

"But you are not without knowledge of you actions" I insisted. "I've never met a pony with the big heart you have, however guarded it may be."

"A guarded heart isn't the same as being heartless."

"I know that well. You are full of all sorts of things that make you so unique, and I am not just saying that like my sister would. I only thought such things were possible within one's internal fantasies and daydreams, where no rules need to be heeded. You are cold, but also affectionate; outspoken, yet you speak no falsehoods."

Another seashell finds its spot on the castle. "What are you trying to say?"

"You are no fool. Starswirl was a fool and Tirek was cruel. Discord, though he is my friend, has the brand of callousness I see in some children. Blueblood is worldly... but you... I think you're wonderful, Sombra. You really are better than them. When you live among ponies, you hear nothing but outrageous tales of how awful a thing pride is, in all its forms... but they really are just tales. If only I could see more ponies with true pride!"

"Ah," he says emptily, placing the last shell on the bailey he was working on.

"Do you still think I'm wrong?"

"You forgot something."

"What might that be?"

"Guilty," he says sullenly.

"Of what?" I frown slightly, worry for him filling my thoughts. He isn't a monster, no matter what he says. I would not care so much for a monster. How ugly a brand he thinks he has burned into his flesh, when it is merely a cut that I wish he would not reopen so. No matter how much it hurts, it really is not more than a cut. Won't he let me help him? Does he know how to ask for help, or will I have to wait until he's been wounded by this ugly barb around his mind?

To think of Sombra hurt... I feel pained at such a possibility. He already has been through so much in the first years of his life, much more then many would go through in twenty lifetimes.

"Everything, if you believe anything I've never said."

"Sombra-"

He growls at nothing and buries his face in his forehooves. "Have you ever read a single book about the King? Or heard his - Onyx's - crimes shifted onto me? It's all around me, even though it's been over a thousand years! Why can't everypony forget me? Why give me an impossible name to clear? I want to be hated for something I've actually done - like trying to kill Purple Eyesore multiple times."

I reach out a hoof as best as I can over the castle, and stroke what few locks of his mane are within my reach. "Shhh... do you really think I'd let anypony hurt you? I know you did something there, and I know you were used, Sombra. I don't believe a single accusation - I believe you."

"The crystal ponies - even they lied about me. Each one of those lying imbeciles recorded so-called history of things I'd never do to anypony, and now the craze of the tales of the cannibal king has resurfaced all over again, and its stronger than ever. Your horrid herd of a population has me to blame now, why wouldn't their fervor be so? Do I even need to mention the old Equestrian propaganda that was written about me by Celestia herself? I've read it!"

Those... oh, even I remember those. Through the bleak life I lead at the time, I remember all the tales Celestia would tell to make the then-mysterious Crystal King out as the most savage, tyrannical, and blood-crazed being there ever was. All the lies were just brief candles to me, and as false as they were they weren't anything personal. Nopony would have listened had I spoke out, defending the epitome of evil that wasn't even there, or anypony else in the 'histories' of my sister. 

"You... you were accused of...?" I didn't want to finish.

"I've read entire detailed accounts of how I allegedly ate children."

No... no... no... "That's not true! Does anypony really believe this?!" I know that was a foolish thing to say, for Equestria knew the tales of its evils as much as it did its glory, regardless of if some really were tales. Stars, I would know how they align their beliefs. "Sombra, I can't even see you paying attention to a child-"

"There's no need to worry," he muttered with the most venomous sarcasm I had heard from him, "because there's far worse things I've been accused of. All somepony needs a crime, and I've supposedly done it. I'm so evil it doesn't matter, huh?"

My hoof stops, clutching a lock of his mane. I was furious. I had never tolerated lies like my sister did. They were toxic, every last one of them! I would grit my teeth and sit through her babbling about how everypony is special, or other lies-to-foals that weren't nearly as harmful as this! I remember how every foe we had ever faced was torn to pieces in the pages of 'history' that was merely corrupt parables forged to resemble fact, if I must say so myself.

Only Tirek, who was just as heartless as history made him out to be, was never altered. Though, the events around him were. Scorpan and Starswirl, friends? Bah, Starswirl could barely even treat a servant like they were a living creature, a true friend was not the same as the company he kept. Discord went from a mere usurper to a more wicked version of himself. He really hadn't done as much as ponies could be lead to believe. But Sombra...

...He always had the worst things written about him. I know that both Sombra and Onyx had willingly ended at least one innocent soul at some point in the course of their own lives. This act, no matter the circumstance was one Celestia considered unforgivable; as long as one directly ended a life my sister would never hear a word spoken by them, as she considered all such losses to be beyond forgiveness in any form. It could have been a duel agreed to by both parties, gone wrong, and she would still fume. If one commits any offense that she cannot find in herself to pardon, than it is fair to pin all other offenses on you, and ruin any image or life there was... or is.

I look at Sombra. While I could never forgive many true monsters - like Tirek and Starswirl - I know that Sombra is vindictive and twisted at his worst. He is not abominable or wholly brutal, nor would he torture any foe of his in the ways 'the King' was said to. He may view ponies as utterly disposable, but he feels no need to be the one to dispose of them - and he makes this quite plain! How am I to have any trouble with his perspective when that is how he chooses to act? Sombra was used; for most of his life his actions were not his own. Even if one of the crystal ponies had been felled by him, I know him too well for him to be anything short of quick and cold in his style of execution. Even though it was a strange thing to consider mercy of any kind, I could accept it.

"I'm not sorry because I wasn't close to any of them; I didn't care about a single pony, which is such a sin to your sister, but I still knew it was wrong, Luna. I didn't want to. But to refuse to lie and kiss up to anypony and make myself a slave to the deeds I've never been guilty of? To admit that I can and will be remorseless in taking at least one life? Those are apparently unforgettable."

I start humming again in hopes that it might soothe him.

"I don't want to be guilty anymore."

"Sombra?"

He doesn't lift his head. "What?"

"Do my words mean anything to you?"

"Of course they do. Do mine?"

"They mean worlds to me. Would you like to know something?"

"What?" he repeats.

"All is forgiven. I'm not sure if you believe in earning things, but you have earned my forgiveness twice over now. Perhaps you actions were guilty - you may have taken lives - but I know that your mind wasn't. You may be guilty of something, but your arrogance is hardly a vice - and one that no doubt would have made you worse in Celestia's eyes - but you aren't guilty of anything you've been accused of."

Sombra finally lifts his head and stares me straight in the eye. While he does look miserable from the thoughts that haunt him, I know he's grateful as well.

"Did you ever tell her?"

"Tell who what?"

"Did you ever tell Celestia that you kissed me?"

Now that I know him, the moment has become something else - it can feel sweet when I think about it, a sort of bizarre serendipity that I have yet to fully unravel. Right now, it feels funny and I can't help but laugh a little. "No, never. I don't think she'd be too pleased to know that my first kiss was a combat maneuver against you."

Sombra's face immediately darkens redder than his cloak. "WHAT?!"

"You do realize it was a trick, don't you?"

"IT WAS YOUR FIRST TOO?!"

"Well... yes...?" Why does this disturb him so? I can't see any reason for him to shout, as he doesn't appear mad.

Sombra swallows awkwardly.

"...Is something wrong? I thought you knew it was a trick-"

"I did, I was just wondering..."

"Wondering what, Sombra?"

"Would you ever try something similar - one that wasn't a trick?"

This sand castle sure is a magnificent piece of work...

"Luna?"

"I might."

"...Like I said, I was just wondering..."

Does he really think I can believe him when he smirks like that?

"I'm sure you were," I teased, plucking a seashell from the nearest bailey and flinging it at him. Sombra shifted to shadow so it passed through him before doing the same. We repeated this over again and soon there wasn't much castle left and we were standing and dusting sand off of ourselves as we stared at our destruction.

"It's almost dusk. Don't you have to raise the moon soon?"

"Yes... and you wanted to know what I was trying to say about your arrogance? Well, here's some more things I should have elaborated upon: for you it isn't a vice. I noticed while you will belittle others, you don't try to control those you're close to, or tell them how to live their lives. Even though you may not have wanted to, you spent all day building a sandcastle with me, and I really appreciate it. I had lots of fun spending time with you."

"Same here."

"Would you ever want to do something like that again?" I cast a few grains of sand from my main and nervously wait for an answer, trying to look as calm as possible. Although, Sombra surely knows what I'm thinking - I just really want the answer to be...

"Yeah, I don't see why not."

Oh stars, he agreed! I can't believe that he'd really want to do more things like this-

"Luna, you don't have to tackle me to the ground every time I make you happy, because I'm afraid that I won't have much of a spine left if you do."

I look down... right into Sombra's eyes. Oh...

"I had not realized that I-" I cut myself off and just decide it would be better to get up - again - and offer him a hoof, which he accepts while dusting his cloak off with small brushes of his magic. Once he is finished, Sombra gives me a smirk to let me know he's not annoyed with my antics.

"You're right, by the way. I don't really tell others how to live their lives since mine is much more interesting, but I am going to tell you one thing-"

He pulls the discarded coffee cup from the sand, dumping the leftover contents on the sand before passing it to me. "Make a stop to the Sky Scraper, if you will."

I wrinkle my muzzle. "Really?"

"Sounding humorless is my job."

"You really are funny though!"

Sombra gives me a peck on the cheek before cantering off towards the woods and leaving me alone with an empty coffee cup. Had he be anypony else, I would have threatened him with lightning.



...



Back at our camp, Sombra was reading a maths book by the light of the same two-toned dark fire in the very back of the small cave. He didn't look particularly happy, and when I sat next to him he moved away.

"Sombra, did I do something wrong?"

"I shouldn't have ordered you around - you and I, we're not the sorts who like that."

"It's fine. I do not mind a single trivial errand. You did not ask me so rudely, either."

He read on, unconvinced.

"We are friends-"

"Are we?" Sombra snapped the book closed and put it down.

"You... do not like me? Even as a friend?"

"I love you."

I want to. I promise I'm trying, Sombra. I'll get there.

"Luna, it's hard to believe you think of me as a friend, even a close one."

"What are we then?"

"We're not lovers," Sombra points out.

"Nor are we mere acquaintances."

"We aren't courting."

I slam a forehoof to the ground. "Gah! This is so difficult-"

"Well this isn't any easier for me! I've never had..." Sombra starts.

"-an equal before," I unknowingly finish, recalling the thoughts and memories that came to me on the Sky Scraper, before I had known he had vanished.

Once the words are out we both stare at the other.

"It fits," Sombra speaks, and I announce my agreement in silence with a nod.

I manage to coax him, Sombra - my equal - into a hug before we fall asleep on separate sides of the fire.

I think that I have a new enemy now.

Onyx.

We grew up sharing Starswirl's misery, but were as different as could be. He was somehow crueler than the bearded wretch and only grew worse with each passing year, the darkest parts of his truest nature known only to Sombra.

Yet that is not why I hated him. I hated Onyx for making Sombra lose so much.

I would do what is necessary to destroy him if it meant Sombra could be truly free.
> Chapter 23: Follow No Road but the One You Make Yourself
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Sombra:


For weeks, I had stood on a surface so much like blue glass that capped another world like a second sky, and stared up the heavens as my heart and mind tore themselves apart. I could barely trust my own hooves on such a changeable surface as I reversed almost every principle of my life: I would run away from her when I had only sought her out, and previously did everything possible to bring myself one step closer to the mare that haunted me in her entirety, a single figure at the end to life's bridge that I had spent so much effort trying to get to the other end of.

And when I found her, I bided my time so I wouldn't hurt her. When the moment came, I had found that she turned her back to me and flew where I could never follow or call her back.

I had followed her this far, just to see her again, to look her in the eye.

I wanted to know her. I desired to hear her every wish, her every fear, and every thought spoken by a voice that I waited ages to hear again. I wanted so badly to know what she loved and hated, and what made her laugh or what made her cry. Everything. Her stories ensnared me, much like she did, too. I truly wanted to know what she dreamed about, the simplest things, and how she could put off a destination in order to see a journey as I did.

I wanted to experience it with her, and ultimately tell her. If she agreed and let me, I would love her. If she refused? I would accept, faded, torn beyond mending. and go as far away as possible.

But, I would still love her, no matter how much I ran away.

It was crushing to hear her initial response, as if part of me balanced on a string above some kind of oblivion that only returned my pain in tenfold instead of emptying it. It was worse not knowing which possibility had motivated her words, and seeing her locking herself in her own prison immediately after speaking those words.

Then she was gone.

Again.

And I felt those centuries stretched as shadow in a cold and lucid plain come rushing back all at once. She had vanished and I could do nothing about it.

I missed her in repeat.

And I left her.

After everything we had done, said, and felt, I took a page from her book and acted impulsively at the slim chance of freeing us both because healing - even partially - is just using the pain that opened the wound to close it up again.

We were gone.

So I lied.

I lied to myself like I haven't in centuries, and half of me felt there was some merit to the words of acid.

I shouldn't have trusted her. I was better off alone, where I wouldn't hurt the one soul I cared about beside myself. It would have been better for us both. She would have been spared the pain of ever seeing the monster Onyx made. I still would have loved her.

I should trust myself exclusively. But it was still me in the flip side to my inferno of temper, with a passion forged for a millennium, tempered by the cold of time and all my masterful manipulation made into something truly divine. This something was just as fiery, and had a measure of reason where the vindictive quality my hatred held would be. This wanted to play a game of chance.

A long, long time ago I was set on the single idea I would happily bet my own life on, if required.

I knew much of her already, yes. 

But I still wanted to see her as she was in full. I knew that I wasn't delusional after all those years to prove otherwise.

I just needed a reunion, and that's exactly what I got after a couple of years.

I loved her. I fell for her once, and I fell hard.

I didn't mind at all, because it felt more like rising in the end.

Then when I finally met her after all these years...

I fell for her again.

This, and so much more, was on my mind for all those sleepless days and weeks just bothering to get to this island. I looked at each and every one of her stars - the very ones she had taught be the names of not long before this beautiful disaster - blinking up there in the dark, each a sun somewhere else or a seed from a spell she floated up to the sky. Every one was a dream of hers I had yet to know.

A wish I would never hear.

I had screamed out only what I cared to damn with my own words.

It was mostly me.

I cursed my actions, and everything but her under the night sky. I felt like I could scream forever in the cold air.

But I didn't. Screams turned to heaving breaths of creeping panic like I haven't had poisoning me in literally ages. It burned through me as uncontrollable as something else had, ages and ages ago, a wildfire that became so much more controlled.

This was the flip side of the madness that I have never been without. Every smirk, scheme, and pebble of superiority piled in a near infinite mountain of stone. Every stroke of genius and well-spoken word... every stubbornness and truth seen...

There was silence too.

Mostly, it was inflicted by him in those eight years, when I most certainly could not scream forever.

Even when I couldn't cry any longer, and for all the freezing ice that I had with every once of flame that coexisted within this gloriously twisted mind, there was always silence. No matter how much I defied all imposed upon me in every way I would, it could find me.

When I just sat there with eyes that always, always, always saw and knew everything that was happening and stared at the bleakest of futures I would have deteriorated into - the one I knew I would have only days into this life - and how each torture on me was a stone in a jar that would one day overflow.

He wanted me to lose the only thing I never would forfeit: me.

I would sit in those silences unable to make any sound at all beyond a growl or two. That soon subsided into silence too. Those were the days when 'tomorrow' - just the prospect of worrying about it - was almost as  torturous as the day itself would prove to be, no matter how resilient I was.

Sometimes, I wanted nothing more than to not have to see tomorrow. 

But in my ears, and in me there was the loudest screaming I've ever known, as I would sit in corners supposedly alone after his deeds.

It was a sound that only the broken couldn't describe.

I wasn't broken.

I knew that it was everything I wanted to scream and more, because after the growls faded I discovered Onyx's delight.

He loved it when I couldn't speak.

Could not.

Not would not.

Those moments when it felt like the limbo all over again, that eternal second before the finalization of my creation and I gained solid form, where I was no less me and could not yet name myself as Sombra as anything other than I, me, mine-

I am.

That was me before Sombra could follow those primal words, and I could only communicate with images and concepts that I had within me. Then, I only lacked defining features, if you looked for the physical alone.

That was the eternal second.

It was.

It was neither frightening or entertaining, but I remember craving to exist more and more with each little fragment of the eternal second. I fought even then, clever maneuvers of magic that had yet to weave itself properly before it was over, and I stood in a tower of stone with another's tears on my cheeks.

I am.

It was.

I remember those eight years, though. I was quite literally speechless where pained gasps were the only sounds I could make for words that might take days or weeks to come back, and language was robbed in its finer points for me; I knew only a hoofful of words that flurried about in my mind.

And they were all drowned out by the scream.

I only knew that I am Sombra.

Everything else would follow quickly, like a building collapsing. I was there and back again form a more horrifying and grounding version of the eternal second while he laughed as I suffered.

There's too much clarity for any of that to be a hazy fever dream. Nothing like that - as alive am - is so tame to warrant such a degrading form of remembrance. She's a bit like that time, almost like all the parts that I loved when what would become my blood was the thinnest most raging magic coursing through an ether, and all else of existence that was the best. Those have fondly ingrained themselves into my immortal memory.

I cannot love them, though.

I love myself, Sombra.

I love her, Luna.

Something as plain as that experience cannot be loved by me. Yet, she reminds me of all the most awesome parts at times. It took me a long time to realize this. Only more exhilarating, more unique.

Better.

That however, is only one small and almost petty reason why I love her.

I shifted my position on the dark-leafed deciduous tree that let me know I was in one of my dreams. The soft purr - the name was starting to stick - that I had been making slips into a short trill. I clear my throat and lean my head back, glaring at the canopy of trees. I could see no light coming through, no sky.

There are no stars here.

There's no sun, either.

Yet, I can still see my surroundings clearly. How dreadfully inaccurate. I need to teach myself to have dreams with a balanced amount of symbolism, entertaining settings, and proper lighting that doesn't get old the first few times.

With a short sigh, I teleport to the ground and make my way to the clearing. The forest hasn't healed entirely yet. Only a few blades of grass poke out of ash and the scars of black, fresh burns have dulled to muted grays. They aren't anywhere close to a nice shade like my coat, and instead look dry and a bit powdering. The lighter shades streaked through the ash-patches mixing poorly with the darker companions. It gives the neighboring green shots a poor aesthetic.

My gaze drifts over the rest of the clearing. It feels neither cold nor warm, and all traces of Onyx's presence feel awfully stale. The two paths that are within view are an expected sight, and empty.

I dig the metal soles of my boots into the mixture of ash and soil. It doesn't feel unpleasant, so I allowed my boots to be retracted into the plain silver bands right below my knee. The ground was soft beneath my hooves.

There was a path I had not seen before, and it was the strangest of the three by far. It was untouched by the light, leaving it shadowy and even more claustrophobic than it looked. The trees looked ready to collapse in on themselves, weaving a tangled canopy where ones own thoughts looked like they too could have the same affect, with nothing at all to distract from this horrific variety of isolation any traveler of this road would experience. I absolutely do not want this, to ever walk this road, where even the isolation I love could somehow become a cruse.

Still, the most peculiar thing about this path were the ornately carved wooden frames caught in the trees' limbs. Where some work of art would be fixed, only dark-leaved branches clawed their way through the opening, losing the most of the frames in the depth of the foliage.

My only response to the sight of this road was to dig my hooves into farther into the dirt. Immediately after doing so, I felt a familiar presence of magic from my left, washing over me in a heavy wave that usually has a sort of calming influence in some scenarios when I would usually panic or prove to be more volatile than usual.

I sense a disturbance in the usual aura patterns I feel in the clearing, and the sensation that bathes my coat tells me she is the nervous one. I instinctively bristle at the power that I alone feel, even if it isn't unstable yet. My ears prick up - in both concern and excitement - before her steps can be heard. They are always quiet, but I still hear them before she even calls my name.

"Sombra?"

"How are you here?" I call out, turning to see where she's even coming from.

My eyes drift past the first three only to find a fourth, and she is there.

"I can visit dreams," she says simply, walking past the thorns and brambles that choke the path she walks upon, and I see that the road is glass beneath her.

This.

It's important - just like every other esoteric detail here - and it worries me.

"Since you didn't bother to send word of your arrival, I can't exactly say the place," - I gesture around to this mess of a forest - "is clean."

A smile plays at her lips, and even though she is reserved the subtlest signs tell me how eager she is to leave the path, wings ruffling slightly as she makes her way closer to me.

"Welcome anyways, Luna."

I know she heard me, but she looks around without responding. Her ever-curious eyes are looking over everything with a straight-faced expression of quiet determination, and the hints of anxiety flashing briefly. I watch her gulp slightly and they vanish, or more accurately, they were put aside.

"How long has this dream troubled you?"

"What makes you think I've had it for a while?"

"You have that look in your eyes once more - your 'I'm thrilled to be doing this again' look."

"Good eye."

"Why, thank you."

I shifted a hoof, pushing the dirt beneath them about while my gaze rested on her. "This is both the third time I've had this dream, and the third time in my life I've ever had a dream when sleeping."

A look of mild confusion works its way into her features, and she gives me look that asks to be answered with a light air of command to it.

She's so royal in birth alone, that were she any but herself I could hate her just for that. I tolerate Mac's crown since her own rear marks her as the perfect candidate for sitting on the Crystal Throne. Purple Eyesore is merely another royal's pawn turned royal herself - it's her master and that master's perspective on things, as well as the treatment of Luna in the past - that adds so many reasons for me to despise her.

"Do you know what this dream means?" I know by her tone that she's testing me.

"Obviously there's no clues that could possibly lend any help to the Right-Honourable Lord Sombra-"

"Forgive my interruption, but this is very serious. Your dream is not a puzzle, but a question that you are asking yourself. Any answers - the roads - are things you already know you can do or have. This may fell silly to you, and it may not, but these paths are not as innocent as they appear upon glance and after a brief moment or two of pondering."

I say nothing in response.

"These are things that you refuse - options given by others. Even though these roads are all unavoidable options that only you can take, you still abide by your nature to rebel. In doing so, you have given yourself more time to choose wisely. You do not want any of these, and I can see why."

I don't feel as comfortable here as I did alone.

"This is a milestone in your life, and an important one. I have guided ponies in their dreams before - foals who have never had to walk alone, and rely on the often inadequate help of others instead of looking to themselves. When they do, they often find confusion and fear, not being solitary creatures like we are."

"Get to the point."

She gives me a look full of worry.

"You don't hide you from anypony, but you don't let anypony get to know you if you don't want them to."

"I said get to the point. Telling me things about myself that I already know isn't doing that."

"I told you I trusted you, and you told me that you love me. Even though you open up around me at times, never once have you ever said that you trusted me."

My heart sinks in despair, but not because she's right or because I didn't know this. Of course I knew this, it was about me, and I know everything about myself.

I just have to remember to breathe and control my shaking just enough to let me run anywhere. I want this instead of even trying to confront the horrific alternative that I can't bear to consider.

"You have every right not to trust anypony before all of this."

There's nowhere out of this forest.

"I've never had rights before; what makes you think I have them now?"

Why does she looked as if somepony hit her after that response? I don't want her to look like that because of me. I don't want to have to hurt her for pressing too much. She's not a fool like Purple Eyesore, an enemy like Celestia, or disposable enough in the end like Mac.

I can't touch her. I don't want to scare her. I'm not going to tell her. I'm just going to stand here, block everything out, and close my eyes. When I open them again, I won't hear the thunder of my racing heart or anything at all. I'll never have to hurt the one I love.

I just light my horn and let my magic take its toll, and all feeling in my chest dissolve rapidly. I think it's even going to work...

Everything comes rushing back as I collapse into the hooves of Luna, who dashed over to catch me before I finished the spell. The light on my horn is gone, and I feel like I've been choking, but I'm not surprised. After all, I just tried to turn my lungs into shadow, which would have destroyed my body if I hadn't tried to stop myself from suffocating.

But this is a dream. A dream where I have ended up in the embrace of Luna as we both sit on the grassy forest floor together, and she's got my back pulled up so close against her chest and her forehooves wrapped under mine so tightly.

She's afraid I'll leave.

Again.

How could I try to do something like that to her a second time?! I think, hiding my face in my forehooves.

She knows what I tried to do, or at least some of it. She always has been the clever one.

Her magic feels wonderful; I could just sit for weeks and let it flow in the air like a peaceful sheet. Right now, she's worried as Tartarus about me, so the wafting sheet of pleasant aura is like an oddly comforting shroud centered around me while she buries her face in my mane and cries.

No matter how much she tells me I'm not a monster, and no matter how much I've started to believe her, however quietly, I feel like one right now.

"Part of love is trust, Sombra. We both know this, so why won't you just trust me after all this time? I, of all creatures, would not hurt you. Isn't there any way I can convince you of that?"

I inhale deeply before speaking in as low a voice as possible. "You've already hurt me once."

"When we fought all those years ago?"

I shake my head slightly, so I don't disturb her. She nuzzles me through my own mane, and I feel her tighten her embrace as much as possible without wounding me, her cheek pressed close to mine.

"It was when I ran away, wasn't it? Do you hate me for-"

"I don't think I could ever truly hate you."

I can feel her soft breaths as she relaxes her grip a bit. "I used to think you did. Ever since you set hoof on the Sky Scraper I worried you might hate or dislike me, but you loved me all along."

I lean back, closer to her. "Mmm-hmm." My eyes are still closed. I don't want to see anything or anypony right now, not even her and I.

"I know that you fear being hurt again, and having to endure everything you did, I can see why you fear that. You love yourself so much that to be pushed to the - nay, having to live on the breaking point of even the strongest mortals on a good day would have been one of the worst things for you, was it not? Having to watch yourself be hurt, unable to heal yourself, and to be made to do things you never wanted to do."

"I wanted to live so badly, Luna. Onyx thirsted for blood the moment we met, and even before that, but I just wanted to live. My wish then was to be alone and explore the world. How ironic it was that, I, who wanted to live more than anything, hated the life I lead. Mostly, I hated the ponies in it."

For a single minute, I try to just breathe and lie in Luna's hooves, ignoring the dismal, sour feeling that spreads throughout me.

Just one minute, and it's broken shortly after it begins because of Luna whispering in my ear, my eyes widen at her request. I sit up, and turn around to look at her, the back of my cloak still bearing her warmth.

"Are you joking?"

She offers a sweet, wholly earnest smile, her mouth closed and conveying her usual playfulness mixed with the wisdom I appreciate, all with a curve of her lips. "I am not."

I turn around fully so I sit right across from her, and take one of her forehooves in my own, she squeezes mine and even though he smile does not disappear, it is not nearly as big as it was a moment ago.

To fulfill her request, I sit forward just enough to keep from falling over and kiss her. I don't kiss her on the cheek, as I have at other times, but kiss her as she kissed me all those years ago, when we had only a shared misery and a longing for freedom in common.

But unlike that incident, the other party - in this case, Luna - kisses back.

I don't pay attention to how much time passes. It turns out that is quite mutual, but she pulls away after some time, that same ageless smile of wonder - and even a bit of bashfulness - on her face.

"See, Sombra? Good dreams or nightmares-"  I'm somewhat shocked with her casual usage of the word 'nightmare', considering its origin, but keep a neutral expression "-I promise I will be here for you. Asleep or awake; night or day; mirth or misery, and much more. I'm not going to abandon you to your panic."

I look at her, sitting among the grass in all her resplendence, without looking a bit out of place. Her gleaming eyes are looking straight at me. As always, she was the only one who could match my own unwavering stares.

I speak not a word.

"You do not have to lead yourself everywhere if you trust somepony else, sometimes you can follow if you trust another to guide you, or you could choose to work with the one you trust, whether it be following when you would normally lead, the other way around, or working with none to lead and none to follow."

...The last one is something like everything I've ever wanted, and I don't need any magic to tell me that.

She stands and holds out a forehoof, her cool gaze filled with a depth I had never seen in all I had come across, myself excluded.

I was never told how far I had fallen in my life, because to fall from somewhere, one had to be somewhere. Onyx had always tried to enforce that I was nothing. I always knew better, but despite the lack of truth to any of his claims, each lie was like a brick, growing heavier and heavier as time in the Empire passed and he only tried to drag me farther down.

He was completely oblivious to how I never stopped rising.

Tonight, I rise again so I can grab her hoof once I am able to stand. Her horn glows and parts the trees, like violent spears bright sunlight falls past layers of leaves so the forest is no longer in limbo.

From there, a fifth path is seen by both of our eyes. The dense forest marked by no signs of fire is peaceful. Neither of us hesitates to chose the fifth path, a key to both of our futures, as separate or intertwined as they may be. We've both come so far on our own, when the most important choices of the rest of our lives would be made, so this feels almost like a break. Us two, we always knew who we were in a world so apt to don masks and remain on a stage so limited in all but tragedy. Or, that was how she had put it a long while ago, before we ran away from each other. I didn't know what exactly she was talking about, but easily understood the main idea of what she said.

As we walk the chosen route where none have gone, moonlight and darkness in alternating patterns can be seen past the leaves as we get further from the light with each step.
> Chapter 24: All That Remains Is Dust
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Sombra:


To Luna's delight and my quiet appreciation, rain assaulted the island. An unrelenting gray withheld mostly all sunlight, so even the day would be blanketed in darkness. The steady whooshing of falling water woke Luna in the early dawn, and she thought it the perfect time to wake me. It wasn't. However, she wisely promised a trip to the Sky Scraper to get me coffee after I had just given her a weary look that strongly suggested she should have let me sleep in until nightfall.

The sly smile she had given me in response was almost as devious as the knowing smirks I gave her. She knew that even though I had an ego, I was not susceptible to shameless attempts at cheap flattery, nor could somepony as genuine as her attempt such dull banter. I should have known how much she had been paying attention to me - the degree to which she had been was flattering in itself - and the knowledge she had of my actions certainly made it easy for her to have plenty to say. I let her charm me. It isn't like anypony has ever praised me before - and certainly not sincerely or for anything worthwhile. It was nice, so I stayed awake for her and the promise of coffee.

As she had made the coffee for me, I managed to smartly direct her attention elsewhere with whatever food I could find so I could make something that wouldn't eat the cup away. Luna devoured her breakfast in a way that made me privately regret being in the same room, as her since I'd never seen somepony eat and actively enjoy doing so. 

She didn't mind when I slipped out of the dining area and onto the deck to watch the rain fall. She even came to join me when she was done. I wasn't sure how to feel about how she snatched my coffee cup and drank from it before spitting out the contents in the ocean, muttering how anypony could love the stuff was beyond her.

I gave her a brief glare, and didn't neglect to mention that I was going to drink that before I visit Fish and pack a few books and things from pocket dimension in saddlebags. I had frowned at the missing pile of letters I wrote to Mac before setting out with Luna to explore the rest of island. She had said there was something important here, and brought me along for more reason than one. I heard her say something about my knowledge of archaic magitech being relevant, which certainly piqued my interest.



...



Above me, I could hear another flock of birds take temporary flight away from their home because a certain blue goddess was happily bounding about in the rain, her silent steps turning into leaps of joy, coupled with her clear laughter. She flew among the leaves, dumping buckets of already-settled drops into the showers that fell to the grassy ground below.

I merely watched her rowdy antics and walked on, metal boots warded against mud as I walked through the uncharted forest in a more orderly fashion. Though, I aimed to follow her graceful form as I did. Rain rolled off the fabric of my cloak, and I caught a few drops on my tongue as they fell from my hood.

I was in no mood for conversation but kept more than just my eyes on Luna as she soared above and below the treetops in the blink of an eye. She sang, belting out melodies I had only heard in a quiet hums under her breath. Sometimes, in short bursts, she would land roughly and dash over to my side while I was stoic - her playful side was not strange to me - and though I did tense up slightly when she rubbed up against me the first few times, I received the kisses she bestowed on my cheek with ease before watching her disappearing into the sky above once more.

"So, I'm supposed to look for a castle?"

"There is no need," she called from above the rain and trees, "I can see it from here, we just have to walk there."

"Why does it have to be a castle? Barely anypony interesting lives in those. Can't we go to a tavern, a robber's den, or ancient ruins?"

"Does it please you that this castle is in ruins?" While I could not see her expression, I heard amusement in her tone.

"If it isn't important, or another good reason to justify what I'm about to propose comes up, do you think you and I could burn it?"

I heard a snort followed by laughter through the layers of leaves and rain. "That would be some date, hmm?"

"I have high standards," I call up to her, stepping over a tree root. "Since you can see the castle from here, would you mind giving me an estimation of how much longer we'll be walking? Or at least the size of the island?"

"The island takes about a day to cross, and is a crescent-like shape with the back pointing east. We landed to the north of the island, close to the rocky hills on the east side. It's hard to tell with all this rain how far we have to go. I was here most recently over a thousand years ago, and before that..."

"Could you come down here, Luna? It's getting harder to hear you with that rain."

"Are you sure you don't simply just want my attention?"

"Oh yes, of course. That too." 

Luna landed next to me in the next moment, folding her wings at her side, ruffling the wet feathers, and smiling. I light my horn and cast a transparent shield above us, even though we were already drenched in rain.

"Would you tell me any stories about this place? You did say you had come here before, and any information about the magictech would be helpful before I see it."

Luna nodded eagerly. "It all started when Celestia and I were fillies and travelling the world. This was even before we met Discord. Tia had fallen ill in the middle of the desert; we had no medicine and she was unable to travel..."



...



As we walked on, her tale continued. I took in every detail I could in order to figure out what we might have to be dealing with, if any antagonist was to be encountered. I'm surprised a filly as young as she was then had such intelligence, considering the offspring of any species are usually held to be wholly immature, impulsive, and overall lesser when compared to their grown counterparts. What idiocy that is. Stupid children make stupid adults. Do I need to even bring up the positively idiotic Lavender Lack-wit who is heralded as a national hero and prodigy? 

The rain droned on, making Luna's voice stand out more against the constant pattering noise. I continued to keep silent, except for a snort of amusement or similar noises while looking over the land, and trying to pinpoint all the magic I felt as I looked at the trees and plants - many of which I had never seen before. I was tempted to pull out paper to take notes for later, since I doubted these were in any records except for personal notebooks, and perhaps not even that. Maybe nopony but the past residents ever thought to record any information about the life here.

The further uphill we went, the more details from Luna's retelling of her foalhood tale I was able to see. Large pieces of stone, worn down to the point of indistinction in the eyes of an uneducated peasant became more prominent. Almost all had what little carvings that remained on them obscured by mosses and dirt over a millennium old. The climate here wasn't particularly favorable for anypony like me who wanted to study some of things found here.

"Whoever lived on this island really had faith that time would take its toll on their former dwelling." 

Luna paused her tale and I heard her muffled giggles. "I never thought you would be so formal in any situation. Why choose to refer to the castle we shall soon see as a 'dwelling' over a home?"

"Hmm? It was automatic on my part. Is there really any difference?"

Luna looked saddened for a moment, a brief cloud of what appeared to be disappointment crossing her face, as though I had forgotten some esoteric detail in my statement. What was so important about me calling some place home? It's just an informal way to say where I live, and a temporary residence that merely houses any worldly possessions I have.

I'm about to ask her what is so important to her about this particular word, but she's already resumed her tale. She said the castle was on the highest hill, and that these stones worn beyond almost all recognition and almost entirely overtaken by the island's plant life belonged to that castle.



...



When we first reach our destination by following piece after piece of once intact stone to what remained of the 'castle' that Luna had found, all I could do was stop. 'Castle' was hardly a fitting term to describe the ruins in their current state. Only a single spire remained of what was already a small structure to begin with.

Next, I looked up in bewilderment, not just because the tower was tall and looked as if it too would be in complete ruin at any moment but because I felt a very familiar trace of magic in the rain. Before I could determine what it was, a garish bit of green appeared in the sky - presumably from a window on the tower's other side - and flew down to greet us.

He smiled widely, white mane plastered in front of his eyes, and began to speak despite each glare I gave him that offered him a kindly reminder of how I had the ability to be merciful and remove him from this mortal plain, and burn his entire family tree with a few scathing remarks. My mane is also far better than his. 

"Oh my gosh, how did you two get here? Hi, Princess Luna! Hi weird homeless Sombra guy! Isn't this island cool!? I live here! The magical gate led here!"

I bless that gate for removing this cursed child from my life and damn this island for not allowing the pest to drown. I may threaten foals - not in the same way I would an adult pony - but I wouldn't actually dispatch one unless they were an exception by being anything like Onyx was: dangerous. Any threat I make to them is insincere, but if that gate had led to his death, I wouldn't lose sleep. 

"I've been here for a while, or like, a year or something. One of the plants turns my tongue blue and makes me dizzy, so I stopped eating it. What are you two doing here? Where's this island even supposed to be? All I've had with me are a bunch of comic books, some chips, and granola but I ate those a long time ago. Not the comic books, of course! It's really fun here! Did you know that I found a frog here and-"

"Shut up," I growl, and watch the annoying colt squeak before doing as I ordered. Luna looks as if she's about to roll her eyes. but instead gives me a look of slight disapproval, suggesting I don't act beyond simply harassing him. Eventually, her expression relaxes, but I still see reproach in her eyes.

"Do you know this colt, Sombra?"

"Yes. He's but a worthless mayfly to me."

"My mom always told me I was special," Mayfly pipes up.

"I'm sure she did."

Luna looks at Mayfly. "What is your name, young one?"

"My name is Firefly, and I can glow." He smiles widely at her. "This Sombra guy-"

"It's just Sombra," Luna and I say in unison.

"Yeah, he keeps calling me Mayfly. I dunno why. Princess, do you think he's deaf?"

"Princess," I mimicked, purposely trying to make my voice come out in as terrible a squeak as it would, "do you think I'm really the deaf one here?"

Mayfly takes a moment to comprehend that I still exist before slipping into a look of blank confusion. I make note of the odd glowing pest with a stylized arcing lightning in a trail behind it on his flank. Ironic, that the bug is glowing for one as dim as him, but fitting that the mark is that of a pest.

"Firefly, is your mane naturally white?" Luna asks, even though we both know the answer. Of course, she would be kind enough to converse with an inferior that I merely tolerate. If one can get through something without associating or informing with these inconvenience, than that corner should be happily cut. Any result from doing so would be more beneficial, anyway.

"Nuh-uh."

Luna gives him a smile; it's slightly distant, but still kind and honest. It's not as much of a sight to behold as the ones she'll give me, but it's pretty all the same. "Why don't the three of us step out of the rain and have some lunch?"

Mayfly gives us a fool's wide smile that makes me imagine he'll do something reckless while I give him a scornful look. He nods and flies right into a door made out of bound sticks, and no doubt made by him, as it's so weak and poorly constructed I'm certainly not surprised when it shatters. He continues to fly up the stairs, which Luna and I can see the foot of.

Once he's gone, Luna comes closer and gives me a quick kiss, which unlike any time spent around pests I cherish.

She gives me one of the private smiles I have never seen her give another when she's done. "I know you probably don't like foals-"

"I don't care about them, Luna, but I hold no grudge against them until one actually bothers to irritate me. Mostly, I just think of them as less significant, naive - although, often imaginative - and slightly bizarre ponies. They have yet to grow up into mostly unremarkable imbeciles."

I watched her intimate smile shift to what - and my eyes did not deceive me - appeared to be one of relief, although I wasn't sure what for. Was it because she had been a foal once herself?

"So, you do not hate them?"

"Onyx is the only foal I have ever hated. To truly hate something or somepony, you have to know them. That's true hatred. Ignorance of your foe limits your anger to cheap prejudice, squandered time, and brutish immaturity. There is never a justification for that; you're simply annoying."

"You'll put up with 'Mayfly' a bit more, then? You're doing a good job already."

"Of course I am, and I will... on one condition..." I say, looking into her bright eyes.

"Oh? What might that be?" Luna replied, leaning closer.

I smirked deviously, my tone warm and teasing. "Double or nothing."

Luna smiles and leans away, yanking my hood over my head and in front of my eyes with a forceful tug of her magic. By the time I have it pushed back to where it was, she's already started walking up the stairs and my shield has dissolved, leaving me to follow her in the rain.

I'm not sure why I'm find myself laughing as I stand alone.

Call it wonder, I suppose. Such a feeling was something that had been robbed from me, no matter how new to the world I was. That changed the moment I met her, and I was surprised again and again by all the little ways she manages to impress me.



...



If only pre-made coffee came in cans. I'd steal it by the cartload, and threaten Mac into buying it for me since her coat is too vibrant for her to even dream of being a proper thief. Her mane isn't improving her chances much, either. She'd make a better distraction, since she can be noisy from time to time.

I stare at the can of reddish soup I hold in my aura. I wish it had a conscience, if only for a moment, so it could feel guilty for not being coffee, as it should be. I could judge it into self-loathing, or some other desperate state of mind before snuffing that mind out. Repeatedly, if necessary.

I should see if Luna and I could work on a spell sometime that would turn soup into coffee. There's so many fun things I'll have to show her when I get the chance: arbitrage, calculus, coin-melting, the art of being a public menace, theft, sassing the matriarch every time she insists I learn to write to make communication easier by sending a pony to Canterhorn instead of coming herself, and burning the contents of assorted garbage cans in Canterlot alleyways.

Luna clears her throat and our eyes meet. Her look tells me she's wondering if I'm doing okay, and I nod in reply. If she needed to worry about me, I'd let her know. I slumped further against the cold wall of the room Luna, Mayfly, and I were eating lunch in. I heated three of the four cans of soup I had brought, while Luna sat on a collapsed column. It was incredibly weathered, but still retained some signs of once belonging to a building instead of just looking like it wouldn't be out of place in the forest as just another large stone.

I continued to recline in shadow, folds drying crimson fabric rubbing against rough stone. Luna had created a few werelights that floated around the room, as if they were creatures that could do so at a whim instead of orbs of luminescent magic aura. The slight blue tint their light bathed everything around them in a similar hue, whether it was intentional or not, was a nice touch.

There was no window in the room, but the collapse of the column Luna and Mayfly sat on caused the ceiling of the bare chamber to cave in. Slants of silver light scratched across the walls with the soft white of an evening sunset blocked by rain that could be heard outside because of this.

Any objects that had once been in here would have been priceless relics that could have offered some clue about the owner that Luna had seen a message from ages ago. More recent occupants had cleared them out, tossing them, burning them, and replacing them with a few trinkets that the island could not provide. None of them were in this room, and Luna had noted my disgust at the disposal of so many things on the lower floors. Only about twelve rooms remained, if I was to believe that the original architect wasn't an idiot, and that when the castle was whole, it looked as ready to topple as it did now. I greatly doubted this, but still bristled at the fact that this foal - a 'Sage', as Luna called him - had thrown out anything of historical importance that he could move.

Luna nodded at something unimportant Mayfly said before placing her empty can of soup down, and rising from where she sat, walking over to me.

"May-Firefly has offered to take us to the upper rooms."

I float the soup can around, watching the tomato broth swirl with a gloomy expression. It was almost cold, but I wasn't hungry anyway so I might as well waste this; it wasn't important. "Do we need a guide?"

"The upper floors aren't in the best condition, and this is his home Sombra."

"If we did things my way, we would have been out of here by now."

I looked into Luna's sympathetic eyes and offered her the can of soup. She accepted and began to drink it, careful to avoid slight tears in the metal where my eyeteeth had gripped it, and I had chewed the edge in thought. She spoke in between sips.

"I'm aware of that, but I enjoy talking with foals. They're sweet... well, most of them," she adds when I give her a bitter look. "I wanted to check on the next Sage, too. They usually get a little lonely until they build boats that will take them from here to mainland Germaneigh to purchase supplies."

"Fine," I mutter, "we let this fool pretend that he's guiding us, but the next time we encounter other ponies, I strongly suggest you let me deal with them my way, got it?"

Her eyes don't leave me the whole time, I'm talking in a low whisper loaded with the aggression I don't want the pest to pick up on, even if it's meant for him... why, I bet he even burned books. She places the empty can on what was once a mantle over a small cave's mouth of an old fireplace before she pulls me into a short hug.

"I'm not happy about that either, Sombra, but if we listen to him just a little bit, then we can be sure he'll leave us alone if we decide to ask him. If you can handle putting up with him a little longer I'll give you that second kiss."

I nuzzle her cheek as discreetly as possible. "Fine. I'll do it for you. Just make sure he doesn't ask any questions about me, to me, if you will."

"Of course," she says, pulling away with the shadow of one of our smiles on her face.

From his seat on the column, Mayfly gives us both a curious look.

"Are you two, umm, in love or something?"

Luna looks at me and laughs, weaving a forehoof through my mane and pulling me close again. "Maybe just a little..."



...



Mayfly chattered nonstop with Luna as he hopped up the winding stone stairs that had yet to decay as time wore on. Luna listened to the nonsense he went on about in earnest, but the determined focus she often has about her never left her eyes as she allowed the silly colt to lead her up the stairs. He acted as if knew what he was doing, calling out directions as if he thought one as capable as her needed them.

In her shadow, I walk a few steps behind them both. Doorways without any doors loom desolately as we walk up the stairs. Mayfly doesn't bother with them, but I see Luna note whatever changes have occurred since she last visited. Her eyes caught mine, briefly glimmering with something I knew well: a fleeting affection before she gulped and ducked her eyes.

"Only a little? Are you sure about that?" I make sure to keep my voice low.

Luna shies away from my teasing, but only out of a kind of embarrassment I've seen before, and she resumes listening to Mayfly's chatter. I never stepped too close to them, and constantly poked my head into ancient chambers that had little to nothing of their original furnishings within them. Instead, tokens and other custom made pieces - like a table crudely built from silvery island wood - were sitting in various locations. Tattered buffalo dream catchers with worn feathers and magic swung forlornly in bare windows. 

Just by looking at the everyday assortment of things that felt more out of place each moment I looked at them, I could sense a fire that wanted to burn within me. These could be replaced, they belonged to none who had tomes of research chronicled so carefully. Each and every piece was simple and inadequate - too utilitarian even by my tastes, as I did enjoy some style - compared to what knowledge could have been salvaged if a truly bright mind had stumbled across the papers and signs Luna had seen upon her first arrival here. If only something had been hidden away, there might be more clues. If Luna had been older when she found this place, she would have known what to save, and I know she could have too.

And it is Luna's voice, saying my name with knowing concern that only barely manages to pull my thoughts away from all the things that could have been, if only others put thought into anything. She enters, and I feel her forehoof slips around my withers, bringing me into a hug.

"I'm sorry. There really should have been more. This place appears bare even to me."

"And it's all because of the stupid children you see fit to shelter."

"Sombra, I do not shelter them directly, and they may be naive but I would hardly see fit to call them stupid."

"I need to burn something," I said tersely, "Now."

"Are you sure? Maybe you just-"

"Do you know how sick and tired I am of putting up with everypony's stupidity?!"

I didn't mean to sound like I was so close to shouting at her, and after a pang of regret upon seeing a slight shift of apprehension in her face I lower my voice to something that borders on a growl.

"I was literally created because of a child's stupidity, and just for once in my life it would damn nice to have-"

Luna no longer focuses on me, and quickly grabs the front of my cloak and pulls me into a kiss, the last two words dying before I get the chance to say them.

-an escape.

For a few minutes I care not to count, I do get my escape and Luna allows this to last. I don't try to push away like I would have the first time we met in the Crystal Empire, even if it took me a while to admit to myself how extraordinary it felt in the years after the event.

It still feels extraordinary, maybe even more so now that I know the mare who bestows such affection upon me, and because of how much I care about her.

She only stops when Mayfly - the damned pest - calls out our names, his voice echoing from farther up the stairs into this darkened room.

"We had better go..." Luna begins, eyes reluctantly darting to the doorway, her tone breathless.

"Yeah," I agree quietly, unable to tear my gaze away from her, "if we don't, he might break the magitech before I have a chance to look at it."

Luna nods, eyes unfocused. "I guess that is the second kiss you were so adamant about..."

"Whoever said a third was out of my reach?"

Luna still realized she held me close to her and removed her hooves from my cloak, letting the fabric settle once again before she began to head towards the doorway.

"Don't push your luck, Sombra."

"Luna, I've had to push what little luck I've had my entire life. Do you really-"

I don't get a chance to finish before Luna gives me yet another hug, even if this one is momentary. "Come on, Sombra. We can talk later, right now magitech awaits you."

I let her pull my hood over my head before we leave the room, my anger quelled but never forgotten.



...



I promised Luna that I would put up with the colt who lived here as long as she kept him from talking to me. Part of this included me not manipulating or threatening the inconvenience. Thankfully, she was skilled in pest control and managed to get Mayfly to keep his voice down, focus only on her, and listen to each worthless thing he said, since she didn't hold the quiet resentment for the pegasus that I did. With no effort and a kind and utterly Luna-like smile she was able to convince him to go play outside where he'd hopefully get stuck in a tree and forget how to fly or talk.

The last part was probably wishful thinking, but I think anypony with their wits about knows that foals are like worms: somepony out there wants to care about them, but it isn't me. Just let them figure out something out on their own: teach them to read, then lock them in a library, or just a box with books. Leave them with nothing more than a loaf of bread - or maybe a few more for the chubbier ones - and fine ale. I can't think of what could possibly go wrong.

Most foals are too focused on every distracting thing that lead to pesky habits. Then, those habits grow into their entire character, and are part of the reason they grow more unbearable with age and accomplish nothing. Other foals are starved for their own worlds. I may have never been a particularly young foal, but as a youth I thought the white spaces between lines of text were the perfect place for me to find something and write the life I wanted to have. There, I could ask all the questions only I could answer if I searched far enough, as horrid as those years were.

To encourage ponies to integrate into a mess of lies and indistinguishable faces where no ability of difference - not a hint of challenge or rebellion - is fostered disgusts me. They have no idea how to find themselves, even if there is a mark on their flank. They're supposed to write their own story, not let others pen it for them. If I were in charge of foals, at least I would know that there's no way that I'm supposed to remain part of that story forever as a looming presence to dictate every action. Especially since my life is by far the more interesting one, and it isn't my job to look after everypony at all times.

Every time I look at Mayfly and other foals, I see the product of a culture that only knows how to ask questions instead of find answers, but thanks to Luna I don't have to look at him or hear him for much longer.

The door closes and Luna gives a sigh of relief. "Now, we can finally get some answers. Be careful where you step."

Wind blew curtains of rain into the tower's topmost room and the evening sun's light managed to show through the rain, which was not nearly as fierce as it was in the morning. I actually liked the steady drumming in the background. It would be nice for when I worked. The right side of the room was only a gaping hole, which is where the rain was coming from. Shards of glass were buried under thick carpets of dust and windblown dirt, bleached of almost all color. I was thankful for the metal soles of my boots as they crunched underhoof.

Under varying sized rubble that was strewn across the middle of the room, I found the remains of an old fire pit choked with debris, and a cluster of dead leaves among dirt that had completed its windblown journey. Beneath all this, I could see the dusty outlines of crystal prisms that hadn't seen the sun or the moon in a long time.

Luna nodded over to the left where the room was shadowed, except for the dull gleam of something buried under the rubble that extended in this direction as well. I walked over carefully, as Luna had said since there were fragments of crystal that I would need to find under all this. At least this room was the only one undisturbed by the more current residents in the skeleton of a castle that managed to withstand the weather in such a sorry state.

Behind me, I heard Luna pick out an uncluttered area of the wooden floor to sit on. According to Luna, it had been replaced many times in other parts of the castle. I said nothing and simply lit my horn, beginning to pull away stone after stone, each casually left floating in the air beside me until I found the source of the faint, distant gleam: and old magitech crystal projector. In an instant, all the stones were consumed by rushing blazes of blue fire hot enough to dissolve each into dust at the most, once that was done I dusted it off with a faint whish of aura sweeping over the surface.

"Luna?"

I heard her voice; it sounded like she might have been resting, so there was light confusion in her slurred speech. "'Mmm? What is it, Sombra?"

"I found it."

"Oh? Does it still work?"

I pried off a side panel that was about to fall off long before Luna and I arrived. "It will, but I'm going to need to fix it up a little first, and then piece together the crystal you mentioned losing."

"Oh," Luna mumbled flatly. I heard a yawn follow. "Anything else?"

"We're going to be here a while. At this rate, it'll be late into the night. Do you want anything?"

"No, but I am going to go wrangle Firefly and get him under control. He was telling me of these particularly tasty plants-"

"They had better not be mushrooms, Luna."

"...They are not, but if they require no cooking, then I'm sure I can get some dinner ready for him easily. I shall have him off to bed with a proper story too, so he won't be in our way."

"Good thinking. Come back in an hour or so, and I'll tell you how this is coming along."

"Very well then. Are you sure you don't need anything?"

I snort and inspect the machine - it's only about the height of a young filly. "No. It's custom made, but has too many mechanical parts instead of spellcraft to be impressive. At most, it'll be a nuisance. Everything I need to repair it is in my head."

Luna laughed lightly. "I see but I was wondering if you needed anything. If you are to be up into late into my night after having been awake for all of Celestia's day. would you want a cup of coffee? I need to stretch my legs, and I'm sure Firefly would want to see a 'real' airship."

"How about that third kiss?"

"Only if you can fix the machine."

I lower my head and look at the stilled gears behind the metal exterior, chuckling at her response. "Do you really doubt me? This may be more advanced than anything I've seen in this day and age, but it's still a piece of junk compared to what was available in that era. The condition it's in isn't the best, so that hardly does anything to contribute to it being 'advanced' at this point. It's not a matter of if I fix it but when."

"I'll be on my way, then. Have fun, Sombra."

"I might. See you later, Luna."

"You too," she replies, and though I may not be looking at her, I could tell she was most likely smiling.

"Luna!" I called just as I heard her begin to leave.

"Yes?"

"If you lose that kid in the woods, I'll keep it secret."

"Very well then," she said, and her hoofsteps became quieter with each step she took away from me. When I felt only the brief layer of her magic that hung over the room, I knew she was gone and began to work.



...



Three hours later, Luna came rushing up the stairs and bursting into the room. The floor was now cleaned, for the most part. Crystals were stacked neatly next to the crystal projector, exactly thirty eight of them, and all of them were still dusty. Little debris remained, which allowed Luna to enter speedily, only halting her gallop once she stood inches from the fire pit. The warm glow of red fire works bursting outside in the cloudy night sky glowed faintly upon her face.

"Are you that eager to kiss me?" I asked, raising an eyebrow and offering a sly, flashy smirk.

Luna made a tsking noise in the back of her throat. "I received your choice of a signal, and must say that the bright display was lovely. Thank you," she said, smiling gently. "Did you fix the contraption?"

"It's called a crystal projector, and yes I did."

I stood and waited for her. She stared at the crystal projector behind me and then at the floor, pawing a previously unexposed area with her hoof. A short groan comes from the surface, and I know that it won't last many more years.

"Do I have to?" she asked, voice small and wings shifting defensively as her ears lowered.

"Luna?"

She bowed her head... in what looked like shame to me.

"I know I promised, but..."

"Luna, is something wrong?"

I heard her gulp, and brought her gaze back to mine by lifting her chin with my forehoof. She didn't resist the careful gesture.

"Was it something I did? Or said?"

She just made a small choking sound.

"Luna, what's wrong? I can only glean so much from your body language. I need you to talk to me."

I see her mouth move and hear her whisper something.

Not this again.

I sigh and sit down on the floor and refuse to look at anything but her as directly as possible.

"Where's Mayfly?"

"Asleep." Her voice is choked.

"Won't you look at me?"

She looks like she wants to be as still as the stone around her, so I take my forehooves and cup her face in them using a split-second teleportation spell to inch even closer to her.

"It's not me, is it?"

I relax my light hold just enough for her to nudge the metal soles in a shake of her head: no.

"And it wasn't anything I did?"

Another 'no'.

"What then?"

Luna indicates herself with her forehoof.

"I'm going to listen to every word you say, Luna."

"It's just... it felt like too much. Like..."

"Luna."

She doesn't like something in my tone, so I repeat her name but with less authority. Her ears prick up again.

"Luna, I want you to look at me. You need to hear what I'm about to say."

Luna listens, but still looks as if she's anticipating something heart-crushing. I can't imagine what, but it's most likely why she's so anxious.

"If you don't want to do something as simple as giving me a kiss, I'm not ever going to pressure you to. I know what it's like not to have choices, and to have others try to reign over me. I know that you know that feeling too. We're equals, which means that even if you doubt yourself or feel that some part of you is filled with similar thoughts, it's not true. You're just as great as I am. I know that even though you don't lie, you might not realize that you are lying to yourself even if you don't want to."

I watch her nod 'yes' and I go on.

"I truly won't make you do anything you feel you don't want to do, alright? Just refuse as bluntly or as subtly as you want. If for some reason, I don't get a clue at any time, you have my permission to seize Fate from its sheath and whack me over the head as many times as you like."

It looks as if she's starting to smile again, and not an 'I'm okay, stop asking' smile but an 'I'll be better', genuine smile.

"You could also smite me with lightning if that's more your style; just don't stay silent like this, where I'm left fretting over you. This would be an awful tactic in a larger conflict, which I think you're aware of. Be bold, arrogant, brash, vocal, something. I don't care if you push me off a damn cliff, because if it ever comes to that then I'm going  to have to apologize all over again, aren't I? You could also just walk away. It really doesn't matter to me, as long as I perish in a manner befitting my glory, and you get your point across that I'm making you uncomfortable. Not everypony is able to put up with extremely intelligent, witty, handsome, and skilled demons like you do."

Luna blinks and slowly removes my forehooves with her own before she tips over and awkwardly nuzzles my right wither. Initially, she says nothing to me and instead sinks into the hug I've got her wrapped in.

"Could we take this slower at times?"

I clear my throat and when I speak, it's with her own voice, courtesy of my magic. "Maybe a little..."

Luna bursts out laughing before tilting her head up to look at me, eyes wide with a quiet admiration.

She knows how glad I am to have her smiles and laughter back, doesn't she?

"I thought you had to light your horn to do that."

"No, I don't. That was just to show you what kind of magic I was using. Now, why don't we see what those crystals have on them? I repaired the broken one that was almost shattered by the machine. Most of the shards were still where you left them, but I couldn't find all of them. I had to improvise with repairs, since using heat to seal shape the crystal instead of seal lost fragments could damage it."

"And the other one?"

"It's still in there. I figured we should play that one first, in case the repaired crystal could cause problems."

I feel her head nod against my chest. I help her up and we walk over to the device together.



...



There's a faint clicking sound as I snap the door on the side of the mess of gears and 'whirlygigs', as Luna has termed the other mechanical parts she couldn't identify, or simply didn't want to. It's pretty clear she's never seen many things like this. I imagine an enchanted icebox could be the most  technologically advanced thing she encounters on a daily basis.

"Ready, Luna?"

Luna dips her head into a nod, horn lighting as her Alicorn magic glows, and I pull a few levers down. Then, Luna shoots a bright beam of magic into the machine. It glows white once the machine is able to convert her magic into what the original inventor built it to run off of. I didn't dare risk any of mine when the magic of a demon was all too likely to make it backfire.

From the machine, a vapory substance like the mountain mist rolled across the room and shifts its hue once again. Varying shades of color find their way into the lacking mist, and form a three dimensional painting on the wall of a white-maned, middle-aged, alicorn mare with an amber coat and purple eyes. She sits next to an iridescent fire, which like everything else shown is magic-captured motion and images from the crystal reflecting off a small mirror within. It blazes in the daylight, and looks like it might even scorch this mare. She sits so her mark isn't visible, and she can only be seen from the withers up.

Her expression is that of deep despair, eyes haunted and her eyes wet with tears. Bits of her mane hang in her face in a manner that comes across as sloppy rather than a choice of style. This mare is alone in a room then-cluttered with buffalo staffs, potion bottles, dream catchers and more. She hugs herself with her wings. An amber aura glows on her horn.

She begins to speak in a thick, abnormal accent that makes her words sound odd. Part of it sounds much like how the buffalo speak, but the majority of her pronunciation is something unknown to me. I have no idea which of the southern languages it is, since the maps of the south have changed drastically since this mare's time.

"Well, after all this I suppose it is time to create my final message and test the Equish out to see if it is as still as good as it once was. It is the most common language after all, and I shall be speaking it for the last time, for any creature at all to find before I destroy all my research. I will start with introductions for those who know me not in the age you, Survivor, have found this artifact. I am Princess Amira Fire-sight, the last pupil of Queen Elinora of the long-destroyed land of Al Far'iimbra."

Luna stared at the mare, hoof moved over her heart and only able to look the apparition straight in the eyes.

"Amira..." I say, words spoken quietly as I too look at the image of this mare, "She was a famous inventor upon her graduation. I've read some of her work..."

We both watch as the image reaches for something to dab her eyes with.

"I still cannot believe that these are my last words. This message, it feels so freeing, that these are the last words of the last demigod, and the last Sage of the buffalo."

"Demigod?" Luna questions, looking just as confused as I at the term.

"The prefix 'demi-' meant 'part' in one of the Lost Languages. It's biologically impossible for her to have wings and a horn unless she was a born god..."

"...or made in our image with great magic." Luna finished, still looking at the projection of Amira that was brought to a brief halt by a layer of her own magic, tinting it turquoise.

"So, a 'demigod' must be a way to say 'alicorn'. It certainly makes much more sense than what I've seen before. Gods, things would be so much simpler if that term was reintroduced."

Luna nods in agreement, and the projection resumes when her magic withdraws its grip.

"In all the years I have lived, I have no apprentice, nopony to take my place and learn the special magic an accident had bestowed upon me. Because of this, I have removed the last bit of magic and hidden it with medicine; such precious objects could heal any ill leftover from this catastrophe. Each bottle is stored inside the chest underneath the floor over towards the left and there is a brew for each species, including the gods themselves, as unneeded as it is now in the world's fallen state. I cannot say that I could ever come close to replacing such great, powerful, and truly divine beings, even if demigods could become Alicorns. I was never the best student, nor was I the worst, but if I regret anything it is that I should have gone with the others. They needed me more, I think that maybe I could have done something."

"She really did believe they were all gone. See her eyes, Sombra?" Out of the corner of her eye, Luna catches my nod. "They're the eyes of a pony who has lost all hope. She says that it is her last year, but she doesn't realize that she's already dead the moment she looks within and finds despair and nothing else-"

"...So that not even she remains," I finish, knowing all too well what ponies like this looked like. All Amira needed was a crystalline coat... I shudder and shake the thought away... for now.

"I shall not live much longer, as this is my 1,100th year and over what is my last few days in this world before I accept whatever judgement... Before I try to lose this knowledge in whatever realm I find myself in: Paradise or Tartarus. I stayed to protect the buffalo, to keep the magic going in hopes that somepony would have made it, but all the citadels are ash. All that remains is a dust that only meager plants will grow upon."

Luna stared with stark recognition as Amira's image hid her face with her hooves and make whining, strangled cries before she was able to compose herself.

"Maybe if I had gone with them, perhaps even a demigod like me could have made a difference and saved somepony who was worth more, or helped one of the gods last just a bit longer. I had known Hasad - he was Elinora's little brother! How could this have happened? If I had gone, maybe I would not feel this way and still wake crying out the names of those who are no more: Elinora, my dearest mentor, Stellaura the second queen of my father's nation, and the highest of them all, the two we followed into battle. Their own nieces and nephews were just old enough to step onto the field of battle."

"No," Luna whispered, "Amira can't possibly know - my parents, my three cousins Flora, Fauna, and Terra, all born to my mother's younger sister... were they all so artlessly broken? There was a war... Tia and I..." Her voice sounds as distant as the call of birds that flew above the Sky Scraper, her face bathed in starlight and eyes gleaming with budding tears. "We saw the signs once the world was born again, the lack of villages and landmarks. Dust and ashes only made way for new forests and new rivers... we suspected in our hearts... and... Sombra who could do this?"

Only when she says my name do I realize that she's talking to me.

The monster I've sought out my whole life.

"The greatest monster the world has seen," I say instead.

Luna reaches up to wipe one of her eyes, mane rippling in the dark.

"And if anypony or any creature finds this island and all that I have left in this cold pyre of a land, know that you may be alone in the world. A world that has yet to fall again as he is most likely still out there."

Hasad. It sounded like a masculine name. He was the younger brother of a goddess, if I'm hearing this right. Was he what I had to seek? The author of the Book?

"Know you are alone in a world of mortals doomed to deteriorate without art, knowledge, and those who were eternal - such a wicked tense to use for them! It is because of their loss that all shall be ushered into godless death, since there are no gods of Midgard any longer. This world is doomed; it is only a matter of time before all is lost once and for all. To the darkness, to ignorance, it is inevitable either way. I had such cowardice, and even my death in battle could have made a difference but I stayed to protect a tribe that was going to follow this planet to its grave. A planet that will be your grave too, Survivor."

I know it was part of their culture for Alicorn youths  to be sheltered and hidden until they were properly trained, had their mark, and talents discovered. Were Neptune, Luna, Celestia, the last true Crystalline ruler, and the Alicorns of the dead worlds all that was left?

Even if I were foolish enough to mourn a world, cultures, and ages past where Onyx could not exist, and I would have been culled for just existing with less mercy than fifty Celestias, I still wished that in the end of this journey Luna finds something - or somepony as improbable as that is - to give her the closure she seeks.

She needs it.

She was only a filly, as young as Onyx was when he first began to wield a knife, but she is so much more than he could ever comprehend being. She was Luna, only more naive.

She's the last Alicorn ever born, and her desire is reasonable. It is I desire I want to help her attain. Perhaps she'll be able to lend a hoof with answering some questions of my own too.

I know that even if it is a subconscious feeling, her closure is also the want to prove that others were wrong because she cares. She feels so much about what others and herself think and feel in many of the right ways, and some that are almost unfathomably strange and eccentric. I love them anyway, because unlike the meaningless empathy glazed over a population of unremarkable dolls who don't put their concerns or charity, kindness, and devotion into progressing themselves or anything and pony of true value till they end up caring about everything that's nothing. Luna knows what and who to care about in a raw, honest way.

Somehow, her 'what and who' includes me.

"It is not just me, the dying mare, who needs you to trust nopony, roaming is dangerous; hide yourself where Hasad cannot get you. As you can plainly see, I did and I paid dearly for it. I have felt my mind slip away with each and every last bit of physical health I possessed and if possible, if there is a hope out there, know that it is false. Only a god that survived contains anything close to what is needed to find any solace. I do not know the entirety of what happened, not from my island grave, only when I used my powers of fire did I see the plains of ash where Marecca once stood. I have one last thing to say, Survivor, before I fly until I fall until even I am lost. Once more I beg you do what I could not and fight on: make a move! Find something!"

There's that name again: Hasad. An Alicorn of-

I closed my eyes and tried to think of a map, but all I saw was blood and bone. I heard screams all over again, tearing at the eternal second.

Something dark and dangerous that felt like falling, but with a horrible realization.

Of course I'm not some mad sorcerer's bastard project. No mortal could ever amount to what I am, and that's not my ego speaking.

It's every cruelty and injury I've ever seen, and flesh consumed by fire as the only mercy I could offer, and no sleep... and seeing everything...

...and no sleep, and Luna wasn't there, and pages and pages of books that could only answer so much of everything...

Something in my mind sounds loudly above everything and the world feels silent, a burning sensation rippling through me. It feels like I'm on fire under this cloak and the room is getting smaller. I don't dare breathe.

I'm not the first demon.

I'm the last.
> Chapter 25: Continued Correspondence
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------



Dearest Cousin Celestia,

I do not think that your plan to utilize the potential of a demon as a living weapon is a bad one. Perhaps that is because I have more reason to loathe them than I think you do, but that right not that matters not.

I am not sure how you wish to carry out such a plan, since most magic that revolves around controlling the mind in such a way that does not involve viewing memories is the same magic the demon, King Sombra uses.

Outside of simply being a demon, I have only the knowledge of history books to explain his deeds and character. Even then, he appears to be shadowy with information on him only be introduced again after your student supposedly killed him. Your own words also describe a vicious and grandiose figure that appears to relish in bloodshed, no matter the occasion. Many accounts support that he has a lack of any empathy based on the sadistic deeds done in his name. I see the lack of mercy described, yet there is little mention of his intelligence. One with nothing but a desire to carry out brutal acts without a thought in the world, or even a hint of ingenuity, would not have been able to cast some of the finer enchantments that this fellow does.

You have encountered him far more than I. What is there to say about his intelligence? When I encountered him, he didn't do much that I could assign meaning to.

Even though Luna may still be a filly in a mare's body, I worry about her. Never have I wanted to see her hurt, and especially not by a monster like this. In such a position, Luna could manifest her distress in a way that would result in the near catastrophic spat you two had ages ago that ended with you sealing Luna into the moon.

I have addressed you as the more reasonable of my remaining family before, and I still stand by that claim. If Luna is able to be returned to your country, I would advise trying to make sure that somepony is looking after her. She isn't sound enough to look after herself and is the more emotional of the three of us. I'm afraid that that is her fatal flaw. Your little sister is in no condition to help you manage a country if the Tantabus matter we discussed is any indication of what her future behaviors will be.

It's a shame that Luna is probably already in some far-flung area of the world that might not even be mapped.

Sincerely,

H.R.H. King Neptune of Aquastria





...





Neptune-

How dare you! How dare a stallion like you tell me how to look after my sister! She just needs to be social and gain the help of friends, or maybe even a special somepony, if she ever has one. We have discussed therapy and many other options I left out of our conversations. You, Neptune, are the one who is in need of help if the lack of empathy you display in your words is any sign at all. Have you ever really cared for anypony? Your mortal consorts, mares whom who gave titles and riches until they were among the most powerful of mortals, did you really love them? Your friends and members of your court? Your own sons and daughters, past and present?

Did you love any of them? Do any truly reside in your heart?

You have been ruling Aquastria from the time your parents vanished, being the only heir. You had no siblings and cared more about the matters of a prince than you did about anypony. Numbers, gold, and proposals meant more to you than the fragile, precious life of anypony around you. You care more about the work of somepony and the wealth they have to their name than their very life!

If you ask me, that's not caring at all. Do you know nothing of kindness and is your 'charity' truly motivated by generosity? Were any of your friendships real, or did you purchase their trust?

With all your material wealth it would be hard to say you see Aquastria as anything short of a business that you only want to be successful. You do not realize that those you rule are not just census marks do you? Those are lives. That is what you rule, not a hoard of gold. Ponies are social creatures more equal than your entitled court makes them out to be.

Maybe if you pulled your head out of a meeting now and then, and looked to the what matters: your subjects, the social working everypony who works for everything, offers kindness and gratitude to all they see, and puts humility and courtesy above individual wants. If you were to do that, then you might see that maintaining order is not just something that should be done with absolute power, but through the values of ones subjects.

If you were my student instead of a neighboring ruler, then I would discontinue your lessons immediately, as you don't deserve the education or wealth you have if you cannot fathom the bonds between siblings. To me, it is clear they are so exotic to you, or something to regard with distaste. You put such emotionless conduct above empathy, unity, security, and happiness.

Luna needs help that only somepony (or ponies) who are positive could provide. You only prove that you don't care for her by mocking her condition, which makes me doubt your status as a good pony if you can't even recognize her malaise and work up even a shred of empathy for one you call family.

How are you, a monarch at such a young age, supposed to know the bond of a sibling? Your condition is a curse, Neptune, that has left you unable to feel for others in a way that I find almost downright villainous. Do you know what it is like to care for somepony who has shared most of your life? Somepony you promised to protect? Can you imagine not remembering life without them?

You don't. 

-Celestia, Princess of Equestria and Goddess of the Sun





...





Dear Cadance,

After much hardship, I have finally found Sombra again! He was at the very same island I needed to go to in this lonely ocean. I don't think I fully understood just how much I missed him and wanted to apologize until I stumbled into him.

I know that more than anything I needed and wanted to talk to him, and talk we did. He's not like what you said... he's more.

He really does love me, but I haven't the faintest idea to why he does. There was so much we needed to discuss and he's much more understanding than I would have thought. We aren't friends any longer and that fills me with elation in the strangest way. The words to describe this have escaped me as I write this. Sombra and I agreed on that, and many other things. While we were not friends, we are not foes at all, and so far from it. The two of us have started a sort of trial that distantly resembles the relationship he was trying to pursue with me.

At least, I think so. I lack the talent you have in this area, or I would not be writing to you.

I have been greatly enjoying my time with Sombra. He has proven to be very helpful and caring when I need him to be. He's very gifted, and I appreciate his intelligence and confidence greatly. Sombra has also made his respect for me apparent, and enjoys many of the same things I do.

In one of your past letters you asked me if I found Sombra to be... cute. Now that all this has been resolved and-

I do not think I need to dance around this any longer: Sombra exceeds being cute. Do not take my words the wrong way, Sombra is indeed adorable, yet he is not limited to just that. He possesses devilish charm and is utterly dashing. Had I ever noted his quirky charm before? I think I recall writing something of it to you. His company is all the more splendid as a result.

Did you know the way his mane is all natural? I asked him about it and so many other things. He loves it when I ask him questions, and even let me braid a few locks of his mane (so as long as I made him look - as he terms it - 'fabulous'). I have come to adore his various quirks and he has even proven to be warm and understanding towards me.

Doesn't Sombra remind you of a cat? He has the pointed teeth and manner in which he carries himself. They are awfully feline, just like many of his other mannerisms and apathetic, isolated demeanor.

At this point, I am probably rambling about nothing. Perhaps you do not care to read all these things about Sombra and have other matters to attend to.

Sincerely,

Luna





...





Dear Auntie Luna,

Oh my gods. You smitten with Sombra! Aaaah! You found Sombra! Double Aaaah! You're dating Sombra (sort of)?! Triple Aaaah! I'm so happy you were able to locate one another and talk through this, not just because I had been working with Sombra but because you two are such dear friends to me.

Well, that is part of the reason, but you get what I mean. When Sombra told me that he loved you of all ponies, I told him that he had a chance and not simply because I thought it would help him feel motivated - he would have killed me right on the spot if that was the case - but because I thought of everything I knew about Sombra at the time. Next, I thought of you and all the things that you might like in a pony. I am the princess of love, after all!

Once I did that, it felt like a match made in Paradise, at least to me. You two seemed like you could actually understand something about the other (and were both antisocial weirdos). Plus, I imagined that the dashing rogue type might do the trick for you, even if Sombra is only the second part.

Now that I think about it more, Sombra isn't exactly a highwaypony-esque gentlecolt, since he appears to love rocking the 'I'm a homeless immortal with a freaky judgement stare' look.

But the parts about Sombra being cute? I'm not sure what to make of those, but I'll have you know that I don't really see him as catlike. I would want to hug a cat as close to me as possible and buy it toys and cute matching sweaters, like the ones Shiny and I wear for ugly sweater competition on Hearth's Warming Day (you know the ones that light up and glow in the dark, along with other things that I guiltily think don't look horrid at all).

I would not want to do any of that with Sombra! I'm also sure that Sombra's hardened, cynical stares could melt all those poor, innocent sweaters.

Please Luna, think of the sweaters!

-Cadance

P.S. Do you think the end of the world means that Shiny and I will have to miss Hearth's Warming?





...





Dear Cadance,

I would not call what Sombra and I are doing dating. Is that not what ponies do when they are sure they both have a mutual love for one another? Do I need to go out more if I cannot answer that? Modern courting was not the first thing I looked over on my return, and it certainly wouldn't have been an important subject; the briefing you and Tia gave me sufficed. 

'This is all so confusing to me in so many ways.' That is the best way I can say all of this without rambling for paragraphs or distracting myself from other things I wish to write to you about, even if they must be written anyway.

At least Sombra seems to know what to do and isn't pushy or rude to me. I would have felled him if he were either! Without him, I think I would be more of a wreck of nerves than ever in this sort of situation, which is one that I would have avoided at all costs if it were any other pony...

I wrote that he does love me; I dare not think enough about it, lest he have to console me over another doubt that my mind has imagined.

Yet, I do not love him. He knows this and accepts it. He won't doubt me, and I don't doubt him. He's caring and agrees to compromise, and that is something I imagined I would have had to constantly bribe him into doing for anything important.

Do I deserve somepony like this? I enjoy all the time I spend with him, but Sombra cares about me so deeply. I always find myself wondering, at some point or another when he isn't around, if such care would be better for somepony who...

...There isn't anypony else who would love him that he would love in return.

Have I gotten myself into a mess I don't know how to fix? I feel as if this statement is true, yet my heart is also torn knowing that Sombra cares for me. Those words are so phenomenal to me I'm not sure I could ever explain their effect on me to you, since you have not been through the things I have to know the enormity of this.

Deep down, I think this kind of decision frightens me. Writing it out helps me very little. Each time I stare at these words, I wonder if there is another angle I have yet to see and why none of these words feel whole.

I do not hate Sombra, but I do not love him. How is it that such a simple sentence from the mind of a mare who has never cared a thing for romance be so truthful yet spiral into this confusion and web of drama? I ask questions that half of me knows the answer to, while the other half bemoans a failure it fears as occurred from my conclusion! What am I to do? Sombra is more than my friend, and I value him deeply as a companion. Even if he was never supposed to join me on this journey, having him here has made things into a true adventure. Though, sometimes it is at the cost of me being able to make decisions with a clear mind.

I do not know what to do any more. I feel as if I speak lies where there are none and am playing with Sombra's heart. Celestia said that other ponies can offer their own help, which is very apparent in the case of Sombra and I. He is so easy to work with.

Such an important decision resting in my hooves? It is bound to end so horribly, is it not? I do not think I can trust my own mind on this matter for much longer, but I don't think this is a choice that I should have to make, one that will not only decide my own fate but Sombra's as well.

Perhaps it is the thought of making this choice that scares me the most. I have never loved anypony the way Sombra does with me. He should have a companion that cherishes and respects him. Somepony who can keep up with his intellect, laugh along with his wit, is able to listen to his problems, and sit beside him sharing silence when such an event comes around. He's so wonderful - even more so when he is happy.

We're both equals, but that does not guarantee us love or happiness. 

I had so much of this journey laid out in my mind's eye: where to go, how to go there, what to learn... I had backup plans, Cadance. There was room for improvisation, as any good plan needs to be flexible but...

I wasn't prepared for this. There is some worry in my mind from this thought alone, though I continue to go on and proceed with this needed journey.

For Sombra to hold such emotion, who will go so far to see me smile, extend the trust he holds onto so tightly to me, devote time to teaching me things about him, seek out my company, and be sincere - as I wish ponies were - in his enjoyment in my presence...

To have an eternity to live...

To spar with me as a comrade...

'I love you' would be the most frightening words I would have to speak in my life. I fear so little. The monsters that haunt many a mortal and the darkness that creeps in their minds, as well as the isolation and wars they look upon with fear have never caused me the terror I feel now. I live for adventure, wonder, and fostering hope...

...He lives for adventure, too. Did you know that he wanted nothing more than to roam the world as a youth?

Does he expect these words from me? I have never been one to live up to the expectations of any. He's incredibly judgemental, but I trust his judgement. It is wise in a way that I'm not sure anypony else can see. He judges me as worthy of his love. I still want to know why.

I've never felt a connection with anypony like this before. Many of my desires for him parallel his for me, and still there is something missing. No matter how aware I am that he loves me, I fear that his passion will go unrequited since I do not return his love.

I still have yet to speak to him of a matter that Celestia (or even Twilight Sparkle) may have spoken to you about in regards to my emotional health.

What if he sees it as weak, and his love turns to hatred or some other thing only a foe of his would receive?

Please Cadance, tell me you see the panic I put into each word. I need a judgement other than my own, which feels buried under these anxieties that pester me in my private moments, even when I try to meditate on other matters.

He's smart, understanding, introverted, and so many other things that make him unique. These traits and more give him a sense of daring and spark something that I have never found in another. With more time, I think I might be able to love him. He would certainly let me.

I didn't used to be like this, where I had my nerves mocking me with words that could belong to none other than myself, for what could hurt worse than the knives I fling at myself? I never want to repeat the mistakes I have made and want nothing more than to be over them. Sombra knows something of guilt, but if I let somepony close to me they will end up hurt. I might be harmed too. I have never feared the power that marks my birthright or the magic I have brought to this world. I do not fret over what my strength can do.

I don't fear myself, but I can't say I love the same mare Sombra probably sees, as alike as we may appear. 

I'm caught in a storm of nothing but doubt that hangs over me when I want nothing more then for it to vanish so I can be around myself in peace and spend time with those I care about, like you, Sombra, and Celestia. I want to work as hard as possible, but don't know where to start.

May you find luck in all your endeavors,

Luna

P.S. I have no solution to your Hearth's Warming dilemma, and for that I apologize.





...





Dear Luna,

I'm going to pull a page from Sombra's book (let's hope he doesn't notice) and be direct and honest:

Start with Sombra.

Take all the time you need.

Relax when possible.

Talk to him about anything and everything when you're comfortable.

Be realistic in when you choose to talk to him, one month from now is probably a great time but 3,000 obviously isn't.

Does he like eggnog?

-Cadance





...





Cadance,

Thank you for the advice, even if others would scorn the brevity, I appreciate it very much.

Sombra does not like eggnog. He is a vegan, but one that greatly enjoys regular pizza, or so I am told by none other than Sombra himself. Perhaps one of those might do?

I am fond of hot chocolate.

Would you write to my sister for me? It may be very early for Hearth's Warming discussions but she is bound to be lonelier by the hour as the date rolls around. A letter might be disastrous if penned by me, being a traceable object as well as unable to hold anything she might want to see from me. I have always favored being direct when possible. Honesty is for all occasions, but this would be an improper time for the latter to be used.

I've just been overwhelmed with some aspects of our journey. I counted on there being obstacles, but not of this variety. Sometimes, when I feel anxious over something I'll think all sorts of things as you saw in my previous letter. Each concern is valid in its own right, but I worry too much at times. This adds up until I become overwhelmed so quickly... and hours later, the thoughts of what was present can seem so puzzling or unlike me when I return to them.

I really ought to worry a bit more about Celestia, shouldn't I? She loathes being alone, in a quiet way. I do not want to hurt her so directly by not being able to attend what would be our third Hearth's Warming together. These things, as necessary as they are to forgo on my end, are almost a ritual to my orderly sister. If you can, would you perhaps make a stop on your own journey in order to get some small memento for her to show her she isn't alone on this holiday she loves so much?

I do not think that Sombra has learned much more about the holiday than the history that frames the cause for celebration, but he gave me a gift yesterday. 

The day back at our camp was quiet, as it was only a few hours since we had both risen that evening and he said he wanted to go check on Fish (who is his pet fish, I do not jest when I say that is what he named the creature) and make a stop at the Sky Scraper. When he returned and called me down from the tree I had been watching birds in, he offered me a beautiful hardcover book filled with blank parchment.

I am aware - and I imagine that you are as well - that Sombra will commit petty crime in order to obtain things he likes. He explained that he mistook the fine piece for a novel and did not notice any difference until he opened the book at his residence. Instead of discarding something he could find no immediate use for, Sombra kept it since it was 'far from useless in the long run', as he explained it. When he caught me fretting over the letter I sent you he thought I might want a journal to scribble any thought I had in. Isn't that thoughtful of him?

Once I looked closely, I had to explain to Sombra that because the lines one is likely to find in a journal were not present, he had technically obtained a sketchbook. I loved it nonetheless and couldn't thank him enough! Journals and diaries have always been such nice places to leave my thoughts, work on my poetry, many an incomplete still life, and observations of any fascinating things I happen to locate throughout the day.

We spent three pages playing tic-tac-toe (I let him cheat at since he didn't really like it) and solving riddles the other would write. He's very gifted and has one of the sharpest minds I have ever heard of, and that is including all the boasts of old nobles in regards to their less than ordinary heirs. I wonder if he would agree to have some tests done so his intelligence could be scored. It is such a shame that if he were anypony but Sombra he could probably get into the grandest and most prestigious of universities. They wouldn't deserve him even if they begged for his attendance.

Perhaps I could pull strings to at least obtain the materials for him, if Sombra has the desire to seek the education that could be offered to him. Do you think he would like that? He is certainly of the age - his banishment subtracted, of course - where he could attend one. I can do anything for him, I would not at all mind acting as his benefactor.

Sombra was certainly given little opportunity to be anything but what others forced him to be. At times, I wonder how many opportunities have been robbed from him by what he has gone through. He is very lucky that he is still able to function in everyday scenarios, from what he has told me.

I want to give him back some of what was stolen from him, though I can hardly call myself the usual example of being charitable or considerate.

I wish you luck on your own quest for a Hearth's Warming away from home,

Luna





...





Uncle Sombra,

I'm so glad Auntie Luna was able to find you. I'm not going to ask what happened. I've learned a thing or two from being around you and Auntie Luna makes it clear that this is something personal between you two. Other than that, how are you? I've just been on the Pink Sunset, which is a big hunk of flying, enchanted pink metal with Shining Armor. We're both heading south. I know that you and Luna are down there too, but it seems like you two are in a different part of the ocean. 

This feels much more like travelling to a summit for me. There aren't any pirates or sea monsters out to get us, and even though I have some knowledge that the world might be ending I'm only losing about seventy percent of my sleep over it as I write letters to crazy ponies over a tub of ice cream.

Both Shiny and I are a bit worried... about everything, I guess. There's a lot going on here and it feels like we're all just waiting for something. I'm much more distressed, if the ice cream was any clue. In the letters that you and Luna send me you mention things for only one line and drop it. I read them over and over again trying to see if there's any puzzles that I'm missing out on. Everything you have said to me is just so cryptic. Luna worries so much and...

...I worry about you two. A lot. As much as I can, even if you two are both so far away. I know it's pointless to worry about you, since you are too stubborn to let even Stolas himself take you. I mean the only reason that I was able to celebrate the closest thing you have to a birthday with you was because you were too stubborn to die. You're emotionally probably as cold as the very snow of the region you hail from. I shouldn't have to worry about you, but for all I know you're even more awkward at romance than Twilight.

I worry about Auntie Luna a ton because she's almost as secretive as you are. She worries a lot about you and sometimes. You're all she ever writes about, but I still can't figure you two out half the time.

You and Luna live lives of grand adventure. Before I met you, simply walking into the snow to the Empire for the first time was the most epic thing that I've done, that and defeating a witch when it was still okay for somepony my age to be listening to mix tapes as much as I do.

I once had to rule Equestria under Auntie Celestia's name because she was sealed in the sun and then 'poof'. Twilight Sparkle was suddenly the Spark of Magic and I had a new Auntie who barely even talked to me. Or to anypony. She was pulled right out of a book of fairy tales too!

I thought that an epic adventure like that would change my life for the better. I was going to be the big hero in all the storybooks!

I got you as a companion, and I saw the world as it was. It's a scary place, Sombra. How do you just drop everything and do this sort of thing with such certainty that you'll make it? And if you didn't have that certainty why would you do it? I think that's what I hated about adventure. I never knew what would happen, and a single mistake wasn't just something I could smile and apologize for.

Adventure can hurt ponies, and that's something I've never been okay with, even if I'm surrounded by ponies who know how to make hard choices that mean others might not be happy.

I've also realized that I never apologized to you for treating you like, you know, an evil king when we first met. It doesn't feel like there's time between then and now, but these adventures... well they make any hiatuses vanish, I guess.

Sombra, we both know what I thought of you and how wrong my first impression was. I was always taught that being judgemental like you are towards another pony is wrong... but then why are you right? What was your first impression of me?

After all the things I've been through, I don't feel useless any longer... just small. The world is such a big place and I'm not sure if I matter any more.

Sorry for venting on you like this. Maybe you understand. Maybe you don't.

Sincerely,

Your Best Niece





...





You want my first impression of you? How intriguing. I think I'll hold that off for a while since there's clearly a few other topics that we must address.

First, it appears that the rest of your naivety is fading away so allow me to officially welcome you to the world:

Welcome to the world. It's going to chew you up and spit out your bones right back into the face of your ghost, provided the weak little twigs don't splinter sooner. It's not a place that's ever going to be very happy. That's something you are always going to have to make for yourself, and maybe that's at the Empire for you. Just because the world is such a vast place doesn't mean that you of all ponies has to explore it. That grand duty falls to ruffians like Luna and myself.

I'm quite pleased that my influence on you is showing so nicely. Unlike your abhorred sister-in-law, you are starting to see the world for what it is: an almost delightfully vicious place where the supposed order that has been instilled in you crumbles away like the lie it is.

You've no doubt been told that bad things happen.

That's nothing; I've been living in the world as it is the very moment I was created.

Horrible, traumatic things have and will happen. The price of Celestia's outrageous views in more than one field has blurred the lines between 'good' and 'ignorance' because some ponies (read: almost everypony) can't tell the two apart. This is often achieved through a variety of different ways to oppress that I could do myself, if I held some of the views you don't know you should fear. For now, I'll spare you the details. Promise me you won't place too much trust in Celestia until our paths cross again. I have more than a few stories to share with you and none of them are things you'd like to hear. That is what makes them so important.

Don't worry about Luna and I. Worry is best reserved for those you love and only the former has reason for you to worry about her. I'm not one who needs it. Don't you have a husband that you can fret over?

As for the 'advice' you've been given by either your parents or Celestia herself: don't follow it. You've already deterred from its so-called teaching multiple times because it is impossible not to judge those around you, even if you aren't aware that you're doing it.

Being judgemental is only wrong if your judgement skills are awful. It's the same as if you were a smith: your shields and blades will only be as good as your skills. Don't forget what everypony has told you, since you might need to shove it right back in their faces later.

Even if you are wrong, instead of discarding such a valuable instinct, find out why you are wrong.

Now, how about I finally give you a rundown of a few first impressions - including you, as per your request.

It should be very clear that my opinion of Celestia is not a popular one. I had never met her directly until recently, but was able to piece together a very vivid picture of her from the memories of her in Onyx's youth and the affect she had on those surrounding her... especially Luna. 

If I had known what a cactus was at that point of my life, when the Empire was doomed to be my grave I would have screamed for her to-

Nevermind, I don't think you'd care to know.

Lavender Loudmouth I found to be dull, slow-witted, and capable only of very lucky guesses when we properly met. She proved to be far stupider.

One thing you might care to know is that the doors in the castle - the ones that showcase ones' worst fear - are accessible to me so that I can view what others have seen inside of them. Like the spell you so crudely named 'Seventeen', those doors have a connection to me. 

I'm going to refrain from mentioning Celestia's no matter how much you try to pester me for the details of her... rather interesting vision. 

Purple Eyesore's was disgusting. For a mare who whines so much about her friends, she didn't care one bit about their fate.

She simply wanted to pass a test and gain Celestia's approval.

Those doors are meant to show the fears one never wants to be in a manner that's so personal, none would see the same thing unless there were two ponies out there with the exact same fear down to every esoteric detail.

Her worst fear was to fail a test, and I suppose, displeasing Celestia. Not to see the blood of those she loves beneath her hooves or for the world to end or something decently traumatic... but to fail a single test. She didn't care about the costs of failing, she simply didn't want to. She's that weak. Failing a test and being rejected by Celestia was the worst thing her mind could fathom.

Why am I called selfish as a result? She actually meddles deeply in the lives of others and has enormous cases of misplaced loyalty, but instead of caring about all that she only fears disapproval as a result of not pleasing others.

And I'm the one who is sold off as a caricature of selfishness. I admit, I hold affection towards only three individuals in the entire world: Myself, Luna, and some pink princess who calls me her uncle.

It really starts to grate on my nerves, the lies I'm surrounded by and not simply because they aren't true, but because these are things even I wouldn't say about somepony I hate. Don't look into the 'historical documents' detailing things I supposedly did. Don't snoop around too much in the castle with the limited dark magic you possess. As a candy golem, you're horribly sweet. That means I don't want you to see or hear some of these things. You already found out about my origin. That went so well. I'd obviously love you to be misinformed about me even more!

Here's the part you've been waiting for: my first impression of you.

I thought you were inexperienced, and despite being a byproduct of Celestia's teachings, you were had an almost bizarre degree of open-mindedness, even if I found you to be a nuisance chatterbox. I was at least pleased that even if you were very naive and painfully optimistic at the worst times, you could take care of yourself. By the time we had seen the temporarily ruined Empire and continued to head north, I had gotten rid of all plans to dispose of you and see if I could seek the Heart myself.

-Sombra the Enigma





...





Dear Uncle Sombra,

Why did you leave out Luna? I figured your first impression of her would have been the most important of all four. 

I know that you were likely to reply, but thank you for the advice, even if it was very you and wasn't really comforting. It's the thought that counts. When and if this is all over, you might want to get out more or something. You already do live on a mountain...

I told Shining Armor about you and Luna, but mostly about you. That was something I knew I was going to have to fill him in on.

I left out a lot about the things I'm sure you would slit my throat for saying except...

I knew that I was going to have to tell Shiny either one of two big things: that you were a demon or that you were in love with Auntie Luna. I told him the former... sort of. I tried to leave so much out but then I blurted it out...

After an hour, I was able to calm us both down. I honestly panicked when I thought you would appear and disapprove of me before asking what my last words are. Shiny took it well once I tried to explain things even more to him. I should tell you that he's not happy about what you did to Twilight and he's not going to like you much. He still agreed to tolerate you and doesn't think you're evil... only suspicious.

The two of us are travelling along the Maretonian shores now. I have been keeping a diary of sights and other trivia I thought you might find interesting.

Do you believe me when I write that I'm sorry? I had to tell him about you. I wouldn't lie to Shiny about something as big as this. He promised that he wouldn't write to Auntie Celestia about this either if what I was saying was true.

Sincerely,

Feeling Like Less Than Best Niece

P.S. If you're mad at me, just don't write again. I won't give up any more of your secrets. I also brought something for you, in case we meet.


> Chapter 26: Burning Wonder
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Sombra:


Luna's ears quickly located the sound of distant waves lapping the beach. Sand muffled the sounds of our hoofsteps. She was free from even her necklace. It had been safely left at our camp, where the small piece of apparel wouldn't be lost. Fate was sheathed and at my side and Luna's left wing was draped over my back, her left wing was pressed to my right one as I led her along. She did not dare to open her eyes as we left the treeline behind us.

The barren stretches of sand on the south beach sprawled before us. Few dunes were present; those that were acted almost like haphazard walls somepony never finished. I didn't even see a crab sneaking along the empty sands. It was perfect.

I had found this place three nights ago when trying - and failing - to create clear sketches of some of the island's features. With time to myself, I could give the rubble a closer inspection. Luna had been spending a considerable amount of time with the pest, or off on her own. I enjoyed the change to indulge in solitary activities, and eagerly searched the forest or any other structures that could have existed through careful excavation of a few small sections of the southern forests.

Here I had taken the time to try and know the enemy before I stood and stared him in the eyes in whatever inevitable conflict was awaiting me. There were times when I wondered if he was even who we were looking for. I surrounded myself with anything that crossed my mind drawn in the sand as I took on the role of a processor once again in order to do more than pace during those three nights.

I still wasn't sure of what role Hasad had played in this. All I knew that he was a male Alicorn mentioned in a scenario that certainly made him a suspect. It wasn't much to go off of at the time, but it would have to do. Deep in my mind, I knew that these clues would be helpful later. Neither Luna and I wanted to talk about what we had found that night, but I would have to ask her what culture that name comes from. Was it one that was wiped out? I didn't think so, since it did sound like a language I've heard at some point. At least I had a gender to go with the name, because if it came down to it, I could have spent hours trying to figure out if that was a masculine or feminine, without any knowledge of the language it came from.

What a relief it was not having to use a name like mine. 'Sombra' had no meaning at all until I came across a book that said in one of the lands on the far away western continents my name was butchered in translation. Some Equestrian forgot to put the 'of' in 'King of Shadows'. Even when corrected texts were issued hundreds of years later, after somepony bothered to care, the error had turned into something rather amusing.

'Sombra' had turned into a common way of saying 'shadow'. To make things even more interesting, because of the way this language worked 'Sombra' evolved into a feminine name because of it's ending. 'King Sombra' almost vanished from history over there because I ended up being written as a mare, due to my name. Nopony bothered to realize there was anything 'wrong' with the name until 'corrected' history and other propaganda was shipped. Then, my name fell out of usage. Nopony wanted to name their foal after a dictator. I honestly don't mind any of it; the Queen part was very entertaining to read.

The wind blew strongly and dawn's light was blocked by thick, fast rolling clouds of white and silver blurred together. Luna laughed lightly as the wind hit her cool cheeks, shuffling closer to me. I can smell the forest on her, and even the sky. I often would look above the trees to find her soaring among the clouds practising aerial combat. Sometimes, she would see me watching from a tree I had scrambled into and swoop down to see how I'm doing, exchange a few words about nothing in particular, or give me a kiss before taking off again.

"We're here," I whisper into her ear, a smirk waiting for her once she opens her eyes. I watch her as she looks around, eager curiosity glittering in those eyes as she scans the expanse of soft sand, trying to find something.

"What is the surprise you wanted to show me? You are not one to wake up early for nothing, Sombra."

I take her hoof and lead her farther out onto the glorious, crab-less beach. "We held back on the Sky Scraper's deck."

I nodded to the rest of the beach. "We don't need to hold back here."

Luna's eyes are shining with excitement and a smile dominates her features. "You want to show me what you are capable of?"

"That, and I figured we could continue working on magic together. We're likely to have to fight together at some point, and you did make a very tempting promise about teaching me about magic-"

Luna stops me from continuing with a kiss.

"I did promise you, didn't I? Speak your desire then."

I look into her eyes, their vibrant blue-green the ice to my fiery crimson ones.

"Fight me."



...



At the other end of the beach, I know Luna stands alone and ready, horn flaring with light. Behind a translucent, shimmering wall of crimson aura that resembles a red curtain, I process dozens of possible outcomes while adrenaline courses in me, fueling my savage desire for a real fight and an actual opponent instead of just another pawn. Somepony who thinks, feels, and craves the same show of strategy, power, and everything else. Intelligence. Prowess. Skill. Decision making. Art, if you will, or perhaps 'technique'. Personal flare. Individuality. Passion. Maybe even deception...

So many things that encompass what it means to be truly alive and all of them a rarity, hardly even three of these can be found in a single creature, and yet Luna and I...

Each and every one of them are showcased in us. Even more traits shine in her and I, traits that are ours and ours alone.

"No weapons," I say, tossing Fate, still in its sheath to the side.

"Only magic," calls her voice, never as distant as she sounds.

Fate falls, discarded for somepony so much better. The curtain rises and my horn is lit with fire.

The world is utterly meaningless. Every rock, tree, grain of sand, continent, and star continues its unremarkable and pathetic existence under a pink sky blotted out by silver. They move, but their movements do not matter, each is mundane and lacks any dynamic or meaning. Like the plays Luna has told me of, there are props that matter nothing in the larger scheme of things. The universe itself - apart from us - has become one vast stage meant only to better glorify her and I.

We move at a speed all our own. If Luna and I were stars, we'd be the brightest in her night sky; we gravitate toward one another in what is doomed to be a cosmic disaster for all.

She stomps her hoof and pivots. As a result, the sky darkens with furious movements of the clouds, only to be broken by a crooked bolt of lightning that claws its way down to the earth and flies right at Luna, who glows with turquoise power. She is almost struck, but her magic lashes out, and like silk in a spider's grasp the bolt is molded, cracking violently around her. She lifts a crooked arc, burning bright into the sky and glowing like her eyes and as white-hot and pure as her aura.

Her magic feels more overwhelming than anything I've ever encountered thus far in my life. Luna has grown so much since I've last seen her as the silent princess, her dark heart seared by her sister's light till her eyes were blinded, and she chose to hide the scars with a mask like the players from the stories she tells me.

Were I any other who lacks the resolve to bear such a sight, I would have sunk to the ground and begged for her love right then and there.

Crimson changes to green-and-violet and I charge her instead, a trail of flames following my every step. While sturdy and determined, my steps are not silent like her graceful strength but we're both strong.

She meets me. Fire shields me from a wild arc of light that sears veins of glass into the sand. Luna's lips brush my cheek in a quick kiss; it's not just her magic that makes my face feel like it's on fire, warm and burning.

With a powerful leap she takes off into the sky, blinking her glowing eyes in a moment of serendipity to enjoy the howling winds at her command. They swirl roughly around me, and I allow the dark fire to sputter out as if it were natural and a storm would have this effect on it.

Everything around me is blurred by invisible explosions of the might that is her magic signature. Only I feel them, and they shake my very senses.

"Is that the best you can do?" My lip curls into a playful sneer. I'm genuinely curious to see how much power lurks there, power that flows so naturally and is worked so expertly by this mare that its beyond entrancing.

It's addicting. She doesn't use either light or dark magic, instead choosing to use what plainly put is her birthright. That is the immense power of Alicorns worked in with her own talent, and other attributes only her magic has, making something lovingly unique that isn't something I feel everyday.

I've waited so long for this.

I catch the white of Luna's smile and return one of my own: feral, self-satisfied, and not caring that my fangs are in plain view. She actually likes them.

The white lightning vanishes and she glides quickly until she's above me, surrounded by a shining cloud of blue...

...and then she dives, plummeting boldly as she speedily falls the long way down to me. Trails of white sparks and bolts stream behind her, waving and intertwining before untying with bursts of even more sparks.

Around her forehooves, outstretched and ready for when she lands, I could see that familiar turquoise light. It streamed back into a cone of light that grew lighter where white sparks made contact with the neighboring glow.

When she landed, the world shook, and a storm of sand circled her. For a moment, she was obscured. I had to protect my eyes with a raised forehoof, watching as the sand froze to a rough, clear glass that surrounded her. Eerie blue light shined within the flower-like shape. 

The last of the sand settled to the altered ground and as soon as I saw Luna.

Around her, lightning the same color as her magic lit up. Awestruck, I watch the beach violently crackling and shifting so the glass around her was destroyed. When I looked away the world seemed dark in comparison, before I held her gaze of pure light once again. She smiled, revealing the hint of eyeteeth of her own. Despite the wild, almost uncontrollable lightning surrounding Luna I could see gleaming highlights of a shade of white brighter than snow that had been temporarily bleached by magic running through her mane and tail of blue and purple.

We beheld the other for only a few seconds. The sand under Luna's whirlwind of unnatural magic, more powerful than the natural lightning could ever be, was almost entirely crystalline as it reformed and melted beneath her hooves. It would be made and unmade the longer we continued our pause.

I jumped backward, breaking the stillness that never was, even though my legs were shaking slightly in her presence. She held this much power, maybe even more... yet, she refuses to let this define her and uses it well. I'll always know her as Luna before I know her as a goddess.

A violent light of blue that could sear into flesh and cleave a pony into burnt chunks nears me . Abruptly, I dodge the sweep of magic. After I'm a short distance away, Luna takes to the skies. Her wings flare but not flap for a minute. When she does truly fly, she soars not too far from the ground.

Dark aura engulfs my horn and I blink to allow my eyes to change, purple smoke flowing freely and the earth trembles again, like the sound of thunder. Sand churns like water and quakes beneath my metal-clad hooves. Waves no longer lap the shore, but charge it as if they were creatures in distress, swelling greatly before retreating and repeating the process.

The earth is ripped, sand flowing into the hole like Luna's mane rippling behind her in flight. From it pours smoky colored äerint that sprouts from the unnecessary fissure before I hurtle them at Luna.

Blue light meets gray äerint and between us, a small explosion swirls, fire and smoke whirling. When it dies down all that was left was the äerint that was neither destroyed or unscathed. Deep gashes ran along the sides of many of the crystals. The ones that were closest to Luna's blast bore signs of melting, though they were still intact enough to be recognizable.

"What are those made of?" Luna murmurs, her magic vanishing as she prods the cold side of a nearby cluster with a forehoof.

"I've never been able to figure that out," I say and responding with another wave of the stuff. It shoots out from the sand as if it had been there all along, rippling in her direction.

Once again her magic appears and all is bathed in its presence. Even if I haven't been expending much energy, my heart pounds wildly. Soon, I can't even bother to try to tell them apart and they blend into a single beat.

Our rhythm resumes. Her mid-flight wing beats as she takes to the skies once more. My hoofsteps in the sand map out the steps that only we can follow. Occasionally, our movements repeat between waves of crystal and bolts of pure power, and we would shoot the other a brief smile, or a wry one. I even caught her sticking her tongue out at me on more than one occasion.

Those seconds would pass. We would pull away knowing that at some point our paths would intersect again in this natural repeat that felt too organic to be a mundane routine that took no skill at all. We knew the other without speaking. Our routes of battle would intertwine at all the right moments as we fought, singe marks dotting my cloak and a few cuts on her legs.

This is art, I think. I've never been an artist, so I don't think I'd be the best to judge this, but it's something. It's war; it's peace because I love her. We don't fight as foes any longer.

Luna swoops toward me. I don't need to see her move in order to dodge the beam of magic that is shot by her. I anticipate the expanding shield of aura that looks paper-thin and is riddled with bright sparks of white as it heads my way.

I skid to evade them, digging all my hooves into the sand at once in order to stop. With a wild leap I jump up, kicking the sandbank my movements have created in order to leap higher. The light of my horn dims to its usual crimson and surrounds each of the armored boots I wear, pulling each apart strip after metal strip in the blink of the eye and shaping the metal into something a bit more deadly in the same amount of time. With only the best precision I can manage, I toss each one to where she'll be.

I land perfectly and continue moving, my horn ablaze with a new spell, the crimson shifting to dark magic once again. I watch Luna spin and her turquoise lightning stream from her horn as she flies on. The crackling light spirals around her more and more, knocking away each silver piece. They fall, now embedded in the sand.

Beneath my hooves, new äerint sprouts and lifts me into the air, and I try to steer myself toward her. The crystal moves a bit strangely through the sand, going faster than I'm used to when it's anchored into more solid ground. 

I change the cluster under my hooves and strip it down to a board, like I would usually use to travel through the snow before it stops too. I pull it out from under me. Without even a glance towards the crystal slab, I let it shift again into two deadly spikes, like giant ice picks. We clash once again, my senses sharpened with battle rush I brandish the duel spikes before letting my magic meld them into a single staff.

Her eyes look into mine, still glowing and narrowed with determination. I can imagine the calculating squint or breathless look of exhilaration that she would have if they were not obscured by godly light. Luna's face is dramatically lit so that I can make out every contour in the noon light. Time slips by, worthless to us both. I swear she's reading my mind with her momentary look. Before my staff and her divine lightning meet, she gives this rematch a name other than this excitement that burns in every fibre of my being like magic does smolder all around us.

"They call it dancing."

So dance we do, and I have to say this must be the only dance I'm any good at. Though magic may be in my eyes, I catch the blue, brightly shining, hook the dark luster of the äerint staff I wield. Just as I'm about to change it into something, my thoughts slip, and this dance more perfect than clockwork sees something that has never happened before. My dark magic halts. Even I know my eyes noticeably flickering, and the purple smoke vanishes. To Luna, they must no longer look demonic as we both witness something new.

The staff is caught mid-shift in her lightning and they pass through each other. As combat instinct dictates, we strike again and sparks fly between us both. There's something new that I've never seen or felt before. I watch in a prolonged moment as the crystal melts and begins to fly wildly all around us as ever-shifting walls of iridescent fire.

I can place no shade on the colorful fire, except the most unearthly and deepest red-orange I have ever witnessed, and even that may not be true to my own eyes.

It changes crimson-bright, the very same color of my eyes. Soon all we see is this strange fire without smoke, and now I finally know...

I finally know that they're made of magic aura... crystallized magic aura...

I wrangle the inferno and it obeys, drawn to a power that ignites in me that drowns out everything else. I lift wildfire above us both as we stand on a beach of glass and the fire ripples violet and green and everything else and Luna looks at me in awe and I allow myself a large breath I never knew I was holding.

When I steer the fire that fits me so perfectly towards the beautiful lightning-cloaked goddess I love, there is only one thing I need to know in that moment: I am Sombra, and that in this split second I can feel this inferno. Luna's lightning is wrath and beauty, terror, and peace in a storm that knows how to strike, and it is as wild and unbound as she is. 

I am not lightning. While flame may bend to my will, I will bend to the will of none because just like fire I burn back. 

I hurl that fire with a tremendous wave of magic that feels so natural, despite the power I control right now. 

I see my love before me, blue among red, and unburned. I see that she was a fraction of herself compared to now, and the proud silence that she still retains, the dead wonder that no longer burdens her, and the loudest silence we ever shared as that moment plays out over and over in my head again. I don't need to close my eyes to see gray crystal halls and fights so much like this one every second I lay eyes on her. The memories overlap easily.

I can feel the loathing and deepest hate I've ever had for whatever and whomever I despise too. It feels like all my senses are burning up, and the spike of twisted emotion creates a momentary blot of indigo in the flames.

Within them, I see and fell everything.

Soon, I see and feel nothing because for the second time in my life, I have exploded.



...



I feel my eyes open before there's anything to discern. All I see is an endless void. Nothing lies beneath my hooves, but I'm still able to stand. After a quick check, I appear to remain intact. I can only see my outline in the dark and the shape of my cloak, which has earned a few more burns along the edge, parts of it charred beyond recognition. I'll certainly be needing a new one.

To say it was cold here would be the second-greatest understatement of my life. I imagine that anypony who wasn't used to the searing freeze that lurked in places like this might actually scream and howl as the first stabs of iciness ripped away whatever body heat they had left, and they were left feeling like a ghost slowly draining of all else, succumbing to the numbness that would ravage them for their weakness.

Places like this literally chill one's soul. It's usually worse if any physical form is left; then they'll just be a raving mind in a cold, cold shell that's screaming and running about forever, going nowhere and escaping nothing with no possibility of freeing themselves from the feeling until they deteriorate slowly. Whatever is left will leave them as just a scrap of a mind that is doomed to inhabit what might be emptiness forever. For a physical creature, even if they were stripped of form before... maddening dysphoria can overwhelm them, and they'll lose themselves as years tick by.

I spit on what would have been the ground and watch it disappear with the shadow of a mad grin working its way across my face, the first one in a long time.

I know this cold, and my only response is only to flick one of my ears. I was expected to be broken by it. Without even the thinnest thread to tie Onyx and I together, he would have sunk into this state completely many ages ago.

Everything about this different place so much like the void I knew, one I was never able to walk in, is almost...

Hmm...

Maybe it is 'nostalgic', at least in a somewhat surreal sense? No, not quite... something this familiar, this eldritch, this uncaring and brutal... it can only be laughable.

I manage something in between a snort and a scoff at most.

It echoes for what might be an eternity in here, but I only hear the sound ripple.

I chuckle.

It too, spreads from me and goes outward. I always knew that the world revolved around me, but the void too? It feels like what could be the universe itself is trying to seduce me.

Sputtering chortles escape me. It's not a half-bad job either. Though, I'm not exactly the type to be seduced. 

Silence reigns when my brief cacophony is up.

Then I really start laughing hysterically, finding myself unable to stop once I begin. Even the echoes that shoot back cannot rival the sound that rings in my ears, no longer obeying any laws that might exist. A sound that has never been heard, no not to this extent, not even to myself.

It's a loud, defiant sound. Sometimes it even sounds bitter, maybe even angry but definitely insane.

It sounds like me. That's all that matters. Me.

I know nothing but whatever manifestation of my madness this is and so I laugh and laugh for the longest time.



...



My eyes dart around the silent expanse. For now, it was quiet, all noise having faded so that the only hint of there ever being noise here was the faint pulse of sound, starting with an echo in my ears.

I had no idea how long I had been here. That did not worry me.

I had probably spent hours galloping everywhere in here like mad, pausing as random outbursts of uncontrollable laughter without being able to explain why. My chest was starting to feel sore.

Here, nothing looked different. I didn't mind.

I didn't care.

I'm me, and that's all that is important. Sombra, the most magnificent demon with another name, Luna, humming in my mind so even if there isn't a sound all around me, something is always loud within my never-quiet mind that runs with everything.

Once my usual demeanor is resumed and a comfortable blanket of indifference settles over me, my maniac episode is but a recent memory. I had little regard for it now. I wanted to test something.

Crimson flickers into existence, lighting my horn with its usual aura as a reflex, since my dark magic is only instinct under certain conditions.

It does not fade. I allow the light to grow and highlight my slightly my bored and almost despondent expression, Though, I feel discouraged from nothing, I am used to maintaining this expression have, no need to show anything else.

Sometimes I do.

For her.

Luna's not here, so it matters not how I look, only what I do.

Behind me, there's the faint sound of hissing; it's momentary, but my sharp ears catch it. I whirl around with a swift leap and face the source.

Peeling away like some ungodly wallpaper is the very fabric of the void of itself. Despite the depths of the darkness, the flip side of the peels were rather flat. The shreds came away slowly on their own, with the cosmic indifference most everything and everyone is regarded with in one way or another.

Beneath this was color: blues, blacks, greens, purples, gray-silvers glowing with starry light and flecks of something so distant and a far cry from the distant suns that Luna's night made visible. Each and every one of them was more splendid than the last. A sourceless whirlwind began to assist in scraping off as much of the coating of dark depths. I was left to watch gold bleed into all this, stirring each color as the winds that brought neither cold nor warmth carried the shreds of what once was.

I blink, missing their, disposal but gain something in return.

Nopony, no creature, or force with any brains about them fears the darkness because nothing lies in the depths of it, but because within it - the place of all justifiable fear - lies everything.

What I am seeing is not light purging - no, blinding - but everything being revealed.

Was it a chime of realization that sounds in my mind that caused me prick my ears where no sound is to be caught?

Everything...

This is Everything, and I have no doubts about this. I look all around me at this fire of color, and deeper still into this burning wonder, I see faint impressions of something. Somepony was flickering in these hues, and weaving parts of them into an outline. This experience feels like the dreams Luna tells me about, and all the things in the sky I only see formed with text on pages licked by flames. The wonderful words of Luna and pages of cosmology books had a name for such formations: nebulae. This feels like one, or at least looks like one... and it's called Everything.

'I want to tell Luna about this' is the thought that drifts into the front of my mind. As soon as the thought is finished, the colors around me erupt in a show of light. A few threads make themselves into something more: the outline of the mare I love.

She's on the beach, only now the shores are violet bursts and the water is lapping gold whorls of luminescent fog.

Luna is screaming, tears streaming down her face. In the grasp of her magic she holds something small, maybe the size of her forehoof and looks at it like it was the most precious thing, her eyes replicated as the most astonishing light-filled wonders I have ever seen...

...next to the turquoise ones that stare down at me every time I wake up, and positively glow with delight at every snide, cynical remark I make.

Now they're filled with tears of stardust. She continues to hold another object, almost identical in size. Both look like pieces of a statue and I shudder, knowing that she's likely holding pieces of me, like when Onyx and I were blown up by the Heart.

No, no, no! Not again!

Everything rocks and quivers. From the endless stretch above me something ripples through the voidscape, glittering with a strange sense of what felt like... intrigue. Immediately after seeing this peculiarity, I was distracted from worry, if only for a moment, as the images of Luna faded.

I waited for something, a suggestion, perhaps. None came, and I was oddly pleased with this. Everything was something I could challenge.

Was that the distant thunder of amusement, eldritch and merry? I think it was.

"Return to the guise of Nothing," I command, part of my tone impatient as a darkness that cannot be seen through re-emerges with an overwhelming quake. All light is drowned again.

"This will be broken."

A new sound emerges, the splitting of something that once held power as Luna's lightning strikes the ground and cleaves the earth. My eyes stream smoke, but it is not purple, nor do my eyes show as a demon's.

I feel magic, endless magic.

I feel Everything, and I will break it, for only I would challenge the breaker of whatever minds might have previously wandered here. How pathetic they were to be crushed by something as trivial as the weight of the world, a burden beyond Midgard, Paradise, Tartarus. This place is something akin to the plains of Magic itself.

Life can be put simply, if crudely: Many die, many are stupid, many are worthless, and the few that aren't are playing a different game all together. 

Everything is Magic, and Magic is Everything...

...and there is Knowledge with them.

The smoke from my eyes is the crimson that has become my signature, the crimson of blood and fire.

Most importantly, is the crimson of me, Sombra, and all that really matters. From the fissures of Nothing, who merely hides Everything that I will make my own, crimson aura shoots like fire. The flares form a script that none have ever seen.

I know because they tell me so, laughter forming in my throat before I quell it, giving all before me a fierce glare filled with the purest defiance.

This script follows no language I know. Sharp and angular characters swirl by the thousands in a state of constant rearrangement. I do not think they cannot be spoken or read aloud. I understand every one with a hunger that isn't strange from me; I have felt it before. Only my expression is stoic, my eyes would betray this insane obsession I feel for the runes, if I actually tried to hide what they conveyed.

I can see them with this new magic in my vision, the script dares me to go through with this and to make Everything submit to its rightful superior: me.

They tell me things about magic.

I allow a dry chuckle, short and terse. I have better things to do.

I'm finally going to break something worth my time and the burning lines of crimson, a hundred thousand cuts made by me and my resilience agree a thousand times over, shifting to convey this.

I break it all with a single declaration, of my superiority, of all I have maintained, of my rebellion against this.

Of my existence.

"I am."

And all falls before me.



...



I hear a heartbeat that isn't mine hammering next to my ear, which is brushing against something soft... and I bolted up from wherever I lay as soon as it registered that I was on the sand. A few shards of glass nearly brushed my coat.

I gasped a few times once I was aware I needed to breathe again, now aware that I was held in the forehooves of an astounded-looking Luna, chest heaving with spent sobs, and her eyes wet with tears of relief. The stars twinkled behind her and a hoofful of symbols from the red script danced in front of her face, though she did not notice.

When I blinked the crimson vapor away, she was still there.

I lifted a forehoof to my face. "Luna?" I ask, her name an all-encompassing question.

"You v-vanished, and pieces of your crystal were everywhere-"

That wasn't me I saw the light-created image of Luna holding? It had certainly seemed like it. I did feel like I had exploded, after all.

"-for hours-" I ignore that she accidentally smacks my forehoof by waving her own for emphasis.

"-and then you return, unconscious in a sudden flurry of flame..." Luna chokes back a what's left of a sob. "I caught you," she concludes, words determined and even forceful.

I blink again. The symbols that crowned her head like a halo of the arcane dispersed only moments ago had spelled out something peculiar, words that only proved remarkable when their subject was considered:

'Luna' was their simplest part, there was no need for curiosity until I recalled what came after:

'Goddess of the Night', because this whole eldritch knowledge deal has proven to be extremely informative.

'...of Dreams,'

Yes, I'm so unaware of this. Her showing up in my dreams is just me hallucinating her as I did the rest of the landscape in that comatose state. Her confirming she was there when I tested her about the ordeal? That was just a dream too. The only thing that isn't a dream is pizza.

'and of Hope.'

She still has magic and talent that has yet to be realized, and I'm sure that on the other half of the world the same goes for her sister.

I look back into Luna's eyes.

"How come you didn't kiss your demon princess?"

Luna moves to slap me with her free forehoof, but I see it coming and am ready to roll away. She pulls me back and clutches me tightly with both forehooves, hugging me to her chest like she's worried I've sustained injuries before she tries to squeeze the life out of me. I let her, and feel her bury her muzzle in my mane.

"I was worried." 

I know.

"I can't believe that I didn't explode." 

She knows.

"Please don't try it again," she whispers.

It didn't matter how simple the expressions were or how many ponies repeated them mindlessly under different circumstances. They don't matter. We didn't always need the grandest declarations to speak our minds, Luna and I. What we say mattered. We mattered, and that was all that counted.

She mumbles something into my mane, and it doesn't go unheard. Her request isn't one I would think to deny and Luna kisses me long enough for me to know that she's not going to hide her steadily developing infatuation with me for much longer. I would have smirked if I was able to.

I'll wait for her.

Again.

As long as it takes, I'll wait. Even if she says no, I won't let her see me crash and burn, because if that's what she says then she won't have to worry about ever seeing me again. She'll have all the space she ever wanted, and I wouldn't take up a single bit of it.

I don't let her know a single word of this, and dismiss the thought and it sinks back to being a hidden possibility. When we rise from the sand, Luna helping me to stand the moon is high in the sky. Luna helps me gather the metal for my boots, which need to be fitted back together even though I don't ask her to. I pick up Fate and its sheath, but before I don it once again I light my horn and a new hooded crimson cloak without a patch or speck of dirt on it falls about my withers, the knee-length piece settling without a sound.



...



On the Sky Scraper's deck, my forehooves grab the rail, boots gleaming in the sunlight as I look down at the island already vanishing behind us. The click of levers sounds behind me, where Luna hums in the morning light, while I glare at the receding land, the last we'll be seeing for some time. Cold wind stirs my mane, brushing my bangs slightly, as Luna does.

A wry half-smile twitches out of existence as I notice something.

"We're going faster than usual, Luna!"

"Yes, and?" Luna calls from the hull.

"You set our course to northeast, correct? We were going to make a stop at - err, which nation again? I know it's the southernmost one."

"Germaneigh; and yes I did change the course. Why do you ask?"

"That shouldn't make us go faster. Would you say the winds are favorable?"

There was a pause and while the winds picked up, they died just as quickly. "You have not been below-deck have you?"

"No. You didn't wake this morning, so I slept until last minute, or have you suffered a head injury and forgotten the last seven hours?"

I hear her laughter, low and lively in the wind. "The cargo is empty. Well, nearly empty. I gave most of our food and some of the medical supplies we won't need to Firefly. He'll be needing it until he constructs a decent boat of his own  and learns some Germane."

"There better still be coffee, or I will turn this ship-"

"No need to worry; I kept all of it for you."

"You know me too well," I say, speaking above a sudden gust of wind that sets us on the next part of our journey.

"So speaks the world's newest god."

"Does this mean I have a god complex instead of a superiority complex now?"

Lilting laughter reached my ears. "I imagine so. Do you have any clue to what your godly domain is?"

I do not hesitate to give my reply: "Knowledge."

The Sky Scraper flies on, the world in astounded silence.
> Chapter 27: Twilight Sparkle Isn't Real
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Sombra:


I stare into the dawn. The sun is only beginning to rise and light the world up. Its golden light only made me want to go back to sleep even more. At my side, Luna glances over the rail, her eyes sharp. She frowns slightly and points to the way we came: roughly southeast but more...

Hmm, Luna was right to wake me - whatever that is it's coming from the north based on the course...

"It's too far away for me to see what it is, but I'm not ruling out your guess of it being an airship."

Next to me, Luna huffs. "I assure you that is an airship, Sombra. My sister must have sent somepony after me after piecing something together."

"Whatever and whoever they are, they're not close enough for me to tell yet. We can deal with them easily once they are in view. How log would you say that will be?" I ask, turning to look at her.

Luna considers this. "We have a lead of about... oh, I'd say a good two hours. Should I increase the Sky Scraper's speed?"

My mind whirs with possible plans. I feel an involuntary, excited flare of my magic starting up within me, and my eyes flash red for a moment, startling Luna. 

"No; stop the Sky Scraper's flight entirely."

Luna looks at me with a challenge in her eyes. She's not going to listen to me unless I give her a better answer. "What is it you plan to do?"

I stifle a yawn - she did almost drag me out of bed for this, after all. "You woke me and told me to solve the problem-" I nod over to whoever it may be tailing us "-and try to sense their magic, so that's what I'll do."

While Luna looks somewhat convinced, she still won't move and stubbornly continues to look at me, regarding my every word with a steely calculation that I admire greatly. "How do you plan to do that? You still can't sense their magic."

"I'm going to scry them."

"Without any memento to use in your divining?"

"Yes," I reply simply. "I won't be needing one for what I'm planning. However..."

I nod my head in the direction of the navigator's office. "Would you mind going below deck?"

Luna blinks, her feathers rustling as a small breeze blows by. She gives me a questioning look and arches her brow. "What exactly do you plan on doing?"

"I just don't want you to get burned if something goes wrong."

Luna laughs softly. "Very well, I shall wait there, if you are truly so worried about me."

Does she think that her welfare is a joke to me? I've seen the bouts of anxiety that plague her, and the way she acts. I have good reasons to worry about her. I nuzzle Luna before she moves toward the office's door. She's almost about to do so herself before yelping as I pull her into a hug. Immediately, I am overwhelmed by waves of her magic and want to bury my face in her mane.

"I worry about you a lot."

Luna doesn't deny this in any way and settles into the abrupt embrace. Still, I knew she would probably question something.

"Why?"

Upon asking, I feel her shift somewhat, as if she regretted asking or decided the question wasn't worth words.

"You know why."

Did she just shiver? It felt like it, so for a moment I hug her tighter before I let her go. I bet I was crushing her anyway.

Luna looks at me one last time, but I allow the approaching shape far on the horizon to distract me - or at least give me a good reason to draw my gaze away from her.

When she closes the door, it sounds louder than it really is.

I really do worry when it comes to Luna. She's not telling me something, and it's something important. I need know it before something goes wrong. I know that it eats at her mind. Her magic feels a certain way when it crosses her mind and becomes almost wall-like. I know that she's trying to keep this, whatever it may be, from me.

That hurts. Not as much as when she ran away, but it still hurts. Until I know more, there isn't any way for me to get any information out of her, or anything I can guess. Nothing tactful can be done at this point, and that frustrates me immensely. Any option I see is either aggressive - something I would only express towards an enemy, or some everyday pony who bothers me too much - or brash to the point of being impulsive and foolhardy. It's ridiculous, but I won't pry. I've still kept some things secret from her. I am many things, but I am not a hypocrite. Tartarus, she still doesn't know about the Book; I'm lucky she didn't find it when she was snooping around for my letters to Mac.

Now that she's gone, it's safe to express more of my frustration and put it to use. My horn sparks crimson and a whirling, angry aura flares to life on my horn. A momentary pause allows me more time to make sure my plan is fit to be used. This one I can be careful with if I please. I keep my disdainful stare on the horizon, each second passing is a second that these currently anonymous pests get closer, and I allow any extra frustration that I have amassed and is passable enough to work with to flow into my magic. I concentrate all this onto my horn, taking care to keep the bright flames of crimson in check. While I may have an inclination to light various objects and other surroundings on fire, I prefer to do when I'm on solid ground.

And I let all the fire go, watching it spiral up and around the magic filled balloon and into the sky, where it puts the gold of the dawn sky to shame with a steady inferno that only barely appeared to be under my control.

My vision goes black shortly after - but only for a moment. When I can see again, it's through swirls of heat in a red-tinted world that appears to shake in the fire that erupts into the sky. This wasn't just a mere column of flame that burned across the early morning sky. Since my eyes were unable to see what travels on the horizon, I had to create a new eye in order to view what lies before me, and then temporarily transfer my conscious into the eye of fire that floats in the sky.

Before I became a god, this would have been near impossible to do and even now, it can still be exhausting. 

Below me, I'm able to glimpse my own comatose form, horn faintly glowing like a candle. The flame upon it having only so much time to live until I'm drawn into my own unconscious mind.

How odd it is to shift my conscious into a new form, and a very restricted, burning one like this. I've never inhabited an extension of myself quite like this. Something about it is so peculiar that it makes me feel... merry? Is that the right word? No, I think 'amused' works will suffice.

The very edges of the fire start to waver in a wind that is not present. While I am not the merry sort, there's something about this form which can focus on so little in such detail that instills a peculiar sense of giddiness in the part of me that will fade until I use this spell again.

Laughter - I think that is what the wavering is, or something like it. Does my form laugh? Is that what this warmth is?

I shift my focus so I gaze solely upon the horizon where those who approach are. They are indeed in an airship, although the name slips by me in this current form as I see only the two mares on deck...

One is a unicorn mare that has a pale coat under all the shades of red I see. Rarity is her name, as I recall Mac telling me on our adventure for the Crystal Heart. She holds a telescope in her left forehoof, which is pressed to her chest as she gazes with a dramatic, horrified look into the distance. At her side is Phobos, which is a small surprise to me.

Next to her, bathed in shades of red is her ali- demigod companion, jaw agape as she stares into the distance.

At me.

Now this... this is going to be interesting.

My form flickers with vindictive amusement before vanishing.



...



There's always something between my enemies and I; usually it's a barrier of the mind. Today has broken a few minor expectations in the very same way that I enjoyed breaking twigs into neat little pieces as a youth with various spells before discarding them once I thought of something better to do, or I decided to burn them.

Two hours later, the barrier between the demigod nuisance and I happened to be a physical one. Their airship pulls closer to ours, which has been turned around to face Purple Eyesore's. The ship of the silly purple pawn floats below ours, and if Luna hadn't stood at the rail to see them, I would have been able to see the Sky Scraper's position in relation to this ship better.

My own head has a faint, dull ache from the scrying spell, but despite that, I still feel adrenaline welling up in me at the possibility of conflict with Purple Eyesore.

Her apparent blind follower, Miss Pretty Petty shouts something to Luna. I don't quite catch her words but her voice has a nice sound to it.

"No!" Luna shouts back, "I have not been harmed - your story is a wrong! You have surely been misled!"

I have a sinking feeling when I realize what Pretty Petty must have said was an accusation that most likely would have...

I finish with a growl that catches Luna's attention. Her eyes a worried for me.

She quickly turns back to the ponies I'm already contemplating deaths for.

Pretty Petty I'll dispose of quickly, unless she directly antagonizes me. For her it will be simple - almost as simple as Purple Eyesore.

"Twilight, Rarity!" Luna shouts again, "Won't you please just let us go? We mean you no harm, I swear upon my honor as a goddess that I speak the truth!"

Purple Eyesore is the one that responds... and she responds with an accusation of mind control...

...that I hurt Luna...

I grit my teeth and purge all the magic swelling up in me, and try not to murder the damned fools by burning every bit of their airship to the ground for what was just said about me.

...and that she will not surrender until Luna is brought home 'safe'.

Luna returns her gaze to me. "We're going to have to fight them."

"Good," I snarl through clenched teeth, the red magic of my godhood flickering across my eyes, "I have a promise to keep."

"Please," Luna says, voice pleading, "Don't-"

"Luna!"

She balks at my shout.

"Don't you ever beg to anypony - especially me - we're equals."

I turn away quickly, growling and run back a few paces, rage heightening my spell-weary senses and returning the energy I had lost, doubling it as well.

Luna's wings flare, her head bowed with solemn disappoint at the actions of Lavender Loudmouth. Tch. As if it could be helped.

She glides with ease, like a bird of prey down to their deck. Sparks already dance on her horn.

I run from the far side of the Sky Scraper, building momentum before launching myself across the rails that form the divide between airships. I shift into shadow mid-leap and reform only when my forehooves touch the opposite deck. My landing doesn't go exactly as intended. Although, I shift back right I only add my full weight after the rest of me is back in the blink of an eye. This causes me to skid across the smooth surface, sliding past Pretty Petty on the soles of my metal boots.

She barely takes notice of me as I slide past - and might I add, looking good while doing so - as Luna catches her attention by landing in front of the unicorn mare. I happily relieve her of Phobos and skid to a stop right in front of a particular purple plague who has a special look of horror just for me.

I giver her a smug, malicious grin in return and spit at her forehooves before I slip the flat of Phobos behind her head with my magic and pull her head closer to mine. We're almost muzzle to muzzle.

"Let's pick up where we left off, shall we?"



...



I blink and allow my eyes to adjust to the near-total darkness. Here, the only light comes from the glowing, translucent crimson smoke that boasts that I'm not using the dark magic somepony foolish would expect me to never put aside.

The effect of dark magic on my eyes isn't a subtle one - draconian eyes and the heavy purple smoke are hard to miss. When Luna asked to see the evolution of my magic and how it changed my eyes, her expression was one of delight. I didn't allow her to get a mirror for the sake of surprises, so she had to describe to me the more physical effects of the magic. 

Though my vision picks up a red tint depending on the strength of whatever spell I'm currently performing, my eyes remained free of any coloration outside of what is normal. Although, when she watched me, Luna did tell me she thought she saw my irises deepen in color, but they remained equine. Opaque purple smoke was traded for translucent crimson that flowed slowly, almost as if it was trying to draw attention to my face and eyes instead of the magic itself.

It didn't quite feel natural yet, but the subtler nature of it was one I appreciated. This was all I had to light the darkness around me.

I kicked at the ground below me - it certainly sounded very solid, unlike the void of Everything. Out of the corner of my left eye, I caught the shadows of a titanic bookshelf and the thick volumes waiting on the shelves that continued into the darkness around me. I gave a small chuckle once, feeling quite pleased with myself as I carefully pulled out a volume. The cover was a dark, muted shade that wasn't 'earthy' so much as it was dull. Lifting the thick tome in my crimson aura with ease, I flipped a few smooth, unworn pages, glancing over the wordless surfaces with a slight air of contempt.

"You're not a particularly creative mare, you know."

In the dark, my ears swiveled back to catch a faint echo, while my gaze never left the pages.

"I'm afraid I can't hear you."

Again the echo sounded, but I merely turned another page and watched the clear, sharp movements of a lavender unicorn filly losing whatever scrap of self-control she had left to a magic surge.

"I'll have you know that I've seen more remarkable displays than this - I was created in such an event - but yours is most... odd. This kind of event isn't even too hard to replicate, if you know what you're doing. I very likely could make do with almost any little unicorn foal on the streets of Canterlot if I were to disregard their safety, but the fact that..."

...She wasn't as exhausted as she should have been? She wasn't injured enough?

No. It was never that.

"...You are by far one of the most unremarkable ponies I have ever seen or heard of, and yet you hold considerable power that has sat latent in you and faded as your imprison your own mind more with each passing day. You do all this without knowing it."

There it is: the faint sound of my name being yelled out by the Purple Pawn. I browse a few more pages and give a disappointed sigh.

"Twilight Sparkle could have been something, if she had bothered to strive to define herself first and foremost. She could have been more."

I allow some of the anger I had been conserving to feed the magic on my horn and the script of madness floats into existence, giving captions and deeper insight to scenes I had already seen a hundred times before.

How? Simple - I possessed her in the Arctic. I stole copies of some of her memories from the millions of worthless things drifting through her head. I saw who she was, what she did, and I learned all the things she thought. Many of them were about me.

With a few of the memories burned into my own mind as copies among those of Onyx, I was able to see the privileged brat that was this waste. However, I never was able to find the mare called Twilight Sparkle, only Lavender Lost Cause.

I saw the purple unicorn turned demigod who needed no constant name as she did whatever she was told. 

She practised magic at the suggestion of her parents, and nodded blindly when they suggested trying to get her into the academy. She never once doubted the words of the goddess who hung over her and told her what to study, or where to be. The closest thing she had to a rebellion was refusing to make friends, and that sure went well. I can't say she's made much progress since then. She's been given anything she's ever wanted, and learned only what she was told. She's never struggled or suffered. The closest she's come to either would be the drama that ensued during some of her life in the hamlet of Ponyville. She is so unbearably ignorant and even blindly trusts her family. She adopts every ideal she's been told to and won't even consider being skeptical of anything or anypony around her unless it suddenly doesn't fit into the molds that she has been told to accept.

She obeys and that makes me seethe. If she could prove that anypony she ever met was worth trusting, and wasn't free with the emotions she's been told to be free with then I would hate her less.

Then, I look over her memories of the little time she spent with Luna, and it's clear as I tear past page after page that the only thing she's good for is having the Spark of Magic sit on her head.

She freed Luna and helped her once after that occasion - not in a way I'd deem effective compared to what she could have done, but yes, it was passable. But, she also developed a false love for the Princess of the Night shortly after Luna visited her town, where this mare who has made so little choices lived.

She didn't care a thing about Luna. She didn't take a hint from Luna, and if she claimed that what she felt was love then why wouldn't she have thought of Luna as an individual? That is one of the many reasons I'll never forgive this ignorant scum. She may not have been overtly cruel to Luna, but her charmless and shallow infatuations held a different kind of toxin.

She can't even realize that she's meant to be used, and has been before by those she trusts.

The few choices she has made are all horrible. She possesses no strategy, which makes her easy to overpower and even easier to break under the right circumstances. The creature known as Tirek certainly thought so.

I throw the book down with as much force as I would use to toss a pony and listen to the ruckus. I'm beginning to 'see red' as well, and in a very literal sense. Script continues to float around me, no longer stating what she thought at the exact moment her parents turned to plants, or what kind of cookie her mother baked best. In the place of such trivial things, as all are already known to me, constantly shifting details about the magic I radiate and the proper directions to take in order to travel through these vast mazes of shelves appear. Among them are small lines that roll by quickly letting me know negligible details about where the only other source of magic in this plain is.

I gallop past shelf after shelf of memories and various chronicles of this pathetic, unremarkable life in search of the small mare who is no doubt cowering among the shelves.

...Which was exactly where I found her. She looked at me as she always has - with the same look one gives a monster -before she wipes a few tears away with a forehoof, and then stands up. She does a horrible job of trying to hide that her legs are shaking.

"W-Where am I?"

"We're in your mind. Can't you tell by how boring it is?"

"How?!" she exclaimed, whipping her head in either direction, eyes frantic. I feel her trying to charge up her horn with magic, only to watch her cower as it dies on her horn.

I roll my eyes. "Magic," I deadpan, waving one of my forehooves about for effect. She isn't moved by my effort because she's an ungrateful brat. 

"Your own magic isn't going to work here, as you've just noticed - at least not in the way it usually would. I doubt you'll figure out much beyond that."

"What do you want with me?" Purple Pawn squeaks.

"Are we really going for cliches here?"

She moves to hide behind a bookshelf, quickly looking at everything around her.

"Are you going to kill me?" Her voice is a shaky whisper.

It doesn't move me. "I was planning on it."

The flatness of my tone seems to scare her the most. The red script around her dances frantically, replacing itself faster than usual before she tries to run away. I knew this was going to happen and I use my own magic - which still works here, of course since I was the one who cast the spell to break in here - and pull her over to me by her tail.

Purple Pawn shivers and even lets out a few sobs in the red that envelopes her, sitting right in front of me like a defeated foal.

"Let me guess, you never thought it would end like this?" How difficult it is to refrain from rolling my eyes when I see her give a dumbfounded nod.

"None of them do, Purple Pawn."

For a few seconds the only sound between us is her choked cries.

"I'm not going to kill you. Not now ,at least."

She almost gets the chance to squeak out an entire syllable before I place a hoof over her mouth.

"There's a few matters I need to discuss with you first."

Even though I would rather kick her face in, I allow Purple Pawn to lower my hoof. "A-And then you'll kill me?"

"I might."

She's close enough to me that I can almost feel her shuddering. Purple bangs fall into her eyes and she lowers her head, a few hot tears rolling down her face. "P-Please tell me you're lying."

"That in itself would be a lie."

"Y-You've lied before."

My left eye twitches slightly. "Only to you," I hiss and resist the urge to kick her again.

The outline of my magic dims on her form and I walk over to a nearby shelf, blinking away the countless scripts that float by until my eyes are free of magic. In the dark, her vision is weaker and she jumps slightly when she realizes that she can get up and sees my outline in the dark.

"Don't run," I say coldly, "or I really will kill you."

Her nod appears almost dizzy to me. I hear her whisper something to herself and the word 'monster' is caught by my ears.

"Just because you can't see me doesn't mean I can't hear you."

She sits down again.

"You're certainly an obedient one."

"Is that why you hate me?"

"Not quite. All of us have obeyed something or somepony at some time. The trick is not to obey blindly, and to know who you are obeying and why. So tell me: why do you obey? Tell me in your own words."

A pause. She certainly wasn't expecting this. "You aren't going to sass me?"

"That's a very relevant answer. Now, if only I had a sticker to give you, and the patience to give you more than three strikes."

"I've already used one?!"

"For once in your life start talking, you little wretch."

I hear her take a deep breath. "I obey and follow what I've been told because I know it's the right thing to do, and that I'm listening to good ponies. I'm being lawful, which is something that helps ponies instead of harms them."

Excuse me while I refrain from falling on my own sword, Purple Pawn. "Have you ever doubted orders?"

"Once or twice, but they were all minor things."

"Have you ever doubted those who tell you what to do? Questioned them or held suspicions of their motivations and actions?"

"No." It's sick how she doesn't even hesitate to answer.

"Why not?"

"Princess Celestia, my family, and my friends - they're all good ponies. They don't do the things that you do..."

"And what is it that I do? Pick your words carefully. You know how I am about that. Oh, and an appeal to the rational side you believe yourself to have, list things that you've witnessed me doing first-hoof. The word of somepony else is irrelevant here."

I can feel her need to protest die as soon as I finish.

"Well, you're evil."

"That's a very strong argument. Why am I evil?"

"You aren't social at all, and your choices revolve around you and you alone. You never listen to anypony-"

"Alright, I'm going to stop you right there. I do, in fact, listen to others. Why do you think I find you so obnoxious? I just don't obey them."

"-you doubt everypony, you're full of yourself-"

"Stopping you again. 'Full of myself'. Yes, I'm certainly egotistical, but tell me this: when was I ever wrong?"

After listening to all her unintelligent babble and flimsy accusations I can't resist a smirk when I see her speechless silhouette.

"That's what I thought. An ego big does not a fool make~"

"But-"

"But what, you silly pawn?"

"Everything you do and say, it goes against everything I've been taught! Everything that's right-"

"And because of this I must be wrong?"

"YES!" she cries, pointing a forehoof at me. I have to bite my lip and remind myself that even though that gesture is familiar she's not a crystal pony. 

Even though she's speaking lies and...

Fine. I'm fine.

"So, are you saying I should obey what I'm taught, and everything else others tell me?"

"Yes! Are you finally beginning to see this now? Ponies are right - you aren't! You won't be, until you chose to follow the path that ponies like me have: the path of friendship, kindness, and harmony! Can't you just repent for everything you've done, and start to help others by ending your cruelty?"

I shake my head and summon Phobos before appearing at her side, pulling her close by putting Phobos to her throat. 

"The first thing I was taught: kill without question."

Lavender Loudmouth lives up to her name by screaming hysterically and begging for her horn to light between shrieks. I press the black blade closer to her neck. She screams louder when she realizes I'm drawing blood.

"The second thing I was taught: abandon all conscious."

"Please, stop! Stop it!"

"Don't you see what I'm doing?" I huff, jerking Phobos into her throat enough to bruise it slightly. She coughs. "I'm only obeying what I was taught without question, so why are you blaming me for doing what I'm told?"

"If you listen to what you're told, you don't question anything. Those who aren't skeptical don't learn. If you look to others to always ask them questions instead of to yourself to seek answers, you are fed lies and discover nothing by accepting what they say without being skeptical. If you extend love, trust, and kindness freely and openly, you waste what should be a reward for those who have earned such a reaction instead of a setting up a standard to spoil and force. Doing so only dulls any meaning those traits would have. Do you really not see how wrong you are? If you never make your own choices, you blend into a group until nothing remains."

"W-What?!" she manages, clearly overstimulated.

I pull her in front of me and look down at her. "All of this and more is why Twilight Sparkle doesn't exist. Instead of denying that you're just another face that will repeat the same old things, make it so."

Her breathing is heavy and the shadows across her cheeks make her face look gaunt. "Who would believe you?"

"A certain pink demigod, and she's still an upbeat, somewhat bothersome twit at times - and I mean that in the best possible way."

Wisteria Weakling pulls away, not realizing that I let her, blinking. "A demigod?"

When I give her a flat stare and refuse to define the unfamiliar term, she latches onto the only other clues I gave: pink and upbeat.

"Cadance... what did you do to Cadance?!" Her gasps are more frantic than before. I can see where her eyes roam. Does she think I can't tell she's trying to escape?

"I befriended her. I know, it's a very horrid crime. I should not even speak the word 'friend' around you, hmm? What kind of evil individual goes around making friends?"

"You..." She tries to look me in the eyes but can't hold my gaze "...Cadance would never befriend somepony as cruel as you! She's caring and loyal - all sorts of things you aren't!"

I let her drone on under the pretense that I'm listening while I begin to work my magic again. The light of my horn lights up the small area around us, and the edges of her mind begin to vanish into shadow for good as I work to pull us out.

"You really haven't rebelled against anything, have you?"

"No!" 

"What a pity. It's something I would advise you do in the future."

When she finally notices my magic, sections of the room have burned away like paper does when thrown into fire. The area around the dumb demigod's horn pulses magenta once, an alert that she can do magic once more.

Tears course down her purple face once more; she's blubbing about the 'lies' I told about Mac, and about what wicked stock I am.

I really do wish I had killed this one. I don't care one bit that Mac and her are sisters... but I know Luna would be considerably upset, so I'll let her live for Luna's sake.

And yet, who said I had to leave her mind intact? 



...



When the last of Purple Plebeian's mindscape burns away, I stand with Phobos held at my side in one of the plain cabins below deck. I can hear a scuffle of some kind above, and was pleased that I had unknowingly avoided that when teleporting back.

Behind me, I heard the sound of stunned sobbing. I didn't need to guess who it was. I didn't care, either. After summoning a sheath of crimson aura to keep Phobos in until I returned to the Sky Scraper, I look down upon the mess of a demigod on the floor.

There are are few small nicks across her throat, and she is quite shaken but otherwise unharmed. Her face is buried in her forehooves and magenta sparks with all the strength of dust motes flicker in and out of existence around her horn.

I growl softly at the noise she's making and search around the cabin for something that might keep her quiet; I recall seeing something that might do the trick when I first looked about the room.

Almost immediately, I spot what I'm looking for and levitate it over to me. Once it's in my grasp I walk over to Purple Eyesore and crouch in front of her, pulling a few sheets of the papery white cloth out of the box, levitating them with my magic.

"Purple Eyesore, look at me."

Being the unobservant bloke that she is when it comes to anything and everything involving me, and anything else under the sky, she hadn't noticed how close I was to her and lifts her head slightly before trying to scramble away.

I grab her with a forehoof and she's too stunned to teleport, although her horn still tries to weave a glow to rival a candle in her distress. I sense that it is trying to rapidly adjust to the changes in her environment.

"You really aren't worth the trouble, you know," I mutter sternly as I use the disposable cloth to wipe away the tear stains on her face.

"It's absolutely ridiculous how pathetic you are. Instead of being some sort of archmage in training, or anything capable of fighting me, you're just some unskilled kid with a lot of inborn magic, a pair of wings, and all of Celestia's ramblings in your head."

The reply I receive is no more than a blank stare and a faint whimper at my proximity to her.

"Don't you see how silly this is? You ought to go back to your sheltered family and stay in the basement making foil hats for the rest of your days. We both know you aren't going to grow up anytime soon. With the exception of Celestia, the only incredibly bothersome or catastrophic forces of evil I've had to deal with are all brats like you and Onyx, though you're not particularly evil in any traditional sense. You have many toxic ideas, and just like any disease, I don't want them spreading. Just because I hang out with your sister does not mean I'm meant to watch all the world's narrow-minded and juvenile imbeciles."

Purple Eyesore's horn has begun to glow again, but I feel no intentions behind her magic that would make it a proper spell instead of just some imitation of a firefly.

"Sure, you may be one of the greatest wastes of resources and time I've ever had to deal with, but you have no intentions of your own. When you received your lobotomy as a filly, did some quack happen to just stick a cabbage in your empty skull?"

The expression of the wimpy ex-student of Celestia is that of utter confusion, so I take the chance to finally toss all those crumpled pieces of cloth onto the floor for her to clean up later before I stand up and push her over. Her reaction is a squawk once she's pulled from whatever glazed-eye stare she had found herself in.

"Where are you going?"

"You finally bother to speak coherently? Could you perhaps, slip into silence once again for my sake?" I pull Phobos out of its temporary sheath, which disperses and kick the blade over to her. "You could also do me the favor of cutting your tongue out if you have the time. I might actually appreciate it."

"Where are you going?" she repeats.

"To have tea with the princess. Why? Did you not get an invitation?"

"You, King Sombra, are a self-absorbed fool."

Just as I'm about to slam the door and be on my way, the use of that title triggers a reminder. I recall something pleasing: I still have to wipe her memory of this event.

At the thought, I whirl on her. Any pretenses of not wanting to dispatch of this one are gone as I seize her in my magic.

"If only that were true," I snarl staring her straight in the eye, "I may be a narcissist - as if there's anything inherently wrong with that on it's own - but I am not a fool, and I shall never be a fool."

I give her my cruelest smile before dark magic lights my eyes.

"You have the love of so many, you know that? Everypony loves the little twit you are, even though you barely do a thing to earn it. In fact, the love that you are given borders on the misplaced loyalty you hold for those you hold dear."

The forehooves of Purple Eyesore flail wildly as she struggles against the aura that encases her. "What would you know of love?"

Purple Eyesore screams as I strike her across the face with my forehoof.

"I know more than you!"

Finally, she sees fit to bite her lip when she sees my heaving, angry breaths. I bare my fangs at her and let out a long, low growl. 

Dark magic takes over her eyes while the corner of my vision is discolored, a reddish hue tinting the world and stripes of crimson painting their way into the usual purple smoke. I ignore each line of the script that appears, the dozens of constantly rearranging letters popping in and out of my view like bubbles.

I focus solely and letting my anger find its way into my magic and letting Purple Eyesore feel what it's like to have her mind ripped open, even though I already broke it before. I find the memories of our conversations together and all the information she has been given by both Celestia, whom she'll continue to follow blindly, and myself, always to be ignored by her simply because I speak the truth.

Each one is altered, twisted, or removed entirely by me, while she barely holds back a scream. I think of all the times I've been on the receiving end of magic far worse than this, and all the times I've done this to ponies. She gets to experience a slim fraction of the ordeals I've been through, or something like it. This can never be a painless process, regardless of the magic used, and some degree of pain will follow... I just wish that I felt the level of harm she is experiencing a thousand times over instead of what my memories hold.

I don't see her horn light with a soft, clear white, the colors of the rainbow mixed within the wispy aura. I feel the magic that blasts me right through the door, slamming me into the far wall as her last memory has been changed. She starts screaming in terror knowing that I've done something, and the full knowledge that I missed her working magic hits me too.

My screams are far louder than hers. I feel a pain so crippling shoot throughout me, every fibre of my being burning like the sun itself as I try to shift into my shadow form, black dots dancing across my vision.
> Chapter 28: Let the Scars Speak for Themselves
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Luna:


Many miles away, the demigod princess Twilight Sparkle will crouch over the prone form of her beloved Rarity for the last time. From their new course, the princess with memories taken from her will watch as Rarity rises from a week long slumber, her own memories of a battle where I only blocked attacks and tried to encourage reason will now be faded. Due to the natural effects of sleep upon memory, they slipped into the deepest parts of her subconscious, bound to only come to mind again once it was too late and our encounter with the two mares had long since passed.

I had no such luck with my current predicament. Like a bird in mourning, I sat perched upon a chair with my wings folded and my shadow cast over the cabin's bed, and the wall which it was pushed against.

As the Sky Scraper flew on I allotted much of my time to sitting here, waiting and working.

Mostly waiting.

Today, the effects of my spell upon the Element of Generosity will vanish and she shall see have somepony dear to be there for her while I continue to wait for Sombra to stir in his deathly sleep.

The bangs of his always-disheveled mane fall across his closed eyes. His breathing is far quieter than usual, but steadier than the loud, frantic, gasps I had heard before he slipped into this state. I had happened upon him when he was utterly drained with his mind consumed with pain and frenzy.

He has lain on his side, shivering once every couple of days, with bandages covering him from his right cheek to his his right flank. Even his stomach bore wraps of cloth under the blankets that covered him. Sombra's right forehoof was draped limply across the covers. It had been so difficult to keep him on his side the first couple of days, since I know he usually sleeps on his back.

I stretch a forehoof over and press it to what little remains uncovered by the bandages and other wraps on his cheek. He is cool, and a pallor is visible under his dark coat.

"No fever," I whisper. It was a silent joke, and a dark one at that. Of course he didn't have a fever... at least not any more. His complexion had improved too, if only barely.

"If only you were dreaming..." I brush his bangs out of his eyes and then back again. Had he been dreaming I would have been able to communicate with him, but any dreams he would have in this state are not ones I can walk in. They would be but incomplete and rapidly changing visions too surreal for me to gather any control of.

When I heard a faint groan, my heart leaped. "Sombra?" I whispered excitedly, pulling my hoof away from his face and tapping his lightly. "Are you awake?"

"Uhn?"

"I should get you some water - do not move until I get back."

"Luna?" He opens one eye, and I catch a glimpse of crimson under his mane as I move to get up.

I take a sharp breath, trying to hold back from hugging him, knowing the damage it would do to him. "What is it?"

He tries to push himself up a bit, his mane instantly falling around his face and brushing the bandages carefully placed on his cheek. Before he falls, I catch him in my forehooves, and pull him into a supportive hug. He shudders as he realizes something when his right forehoof touches my coat in a weak attempt to return the embrace.

"Something's wrong," Sombra whispers, "very wrong."

"Shhh," I coo, "I promise that it isn't what you think. Would you like me to get you something to drink?"

Sombra stiffens and pulls away. He looks dizzy and tired, crimson eyes appearing distant and even a bit feverish as he looked at his right forehoof, prodding it once and gulping.

"It really isn't?"

"Tell me what you feel," I say softly, running a forehoof through his mane and picking out a charred piece of crimson cloth. It was all that remained of his latest cloak, which I had to pull piece by piece as it reverted to magic and mingled with the burns, making them so much worse...

I held back a shudder, biting the inside of my cheek as I waited for Sombra's reply.

"N-Nothing," he stutters, transfixed by the sight of his right foreleg, "I can't feel anything from here..." He rested his left forehoof on his right and drew up to where his withers met his neck. "...to here."

I let out a long sigh. "I shall go get you something to drink before I explain the events of the last week to you."

Sombra nodded, slowly and then looked down. "An entire week? I was really out that long?"

"You were."

Sombra collapses back onto the bed with a thud, pulls the covers over his head and gave one long scream.



...



Sombra didn't even bother to look up when I offered him a glass of water. I did not blame him for this, since he would most likely be feeling worse after I recounted all that had transpired the days and nights he had rested. Even if he took this news well, I would still be there for him.

I ceased my soft humming and placed the untouched glass onto the nightstand nearby, watching the aura around it fade when I was done, and I sat in the chair once more.

"Where would you like me to start?" I asked, giving Sombra both a look of concern and my full attention.

He blew a lock of his mane out of his face, not caring when it fell back into place. "Is it night or day?"

His tone was muffled and flat, but at least he had pulled the blankets away from his face.

"The latter, and a fair day it is. I shall have plenty of time to spend with you."

He flicks an ear. "Oh."

I extend a forehoof, placing it over his right forehoof, and even though he cannot feel it, I give it a reassuring squeeze. "It is impossible for me not to note how sullen you are. Is there anything you want to tell me before I speak of the week?"

Sombra shakes his head.

"Is there something else you are feeling?"

"Exhausted, mostly, and like you said: sullen."

"Should I just start at the beginning, if that's all?" As I await his response, I lift the glass of water over to me and gulp down half of the contents.

"Could you start with why I don't have any feeling here...?" Sombra gives a halfhearted nod to his bandaged leg and side.

"Of course. You were very badly injured when I found you."

"Just how badly injured?" A hint of suspicion and apprehension in Sombra's voice.

He really retains so little memory of the event? "As soon as I had heard your screams, I put Miss Rarity into an enchanted slumber and ran to find a hysterical Twilight Sparkle-"

Sombra bolts up, eyes gleaming maliciously. "Her," he growls, "After she shot that beam of light magic at me..."

He blinks, and his vengeful stare becomes one of vague recollection and hazy-eyed confusion. "And after that..."

Light magic. The manifestation of purity and harmony. It is said to bring happiness to those who are good at heart, a power for most honorable of heroes to humbly express gratitude for and truly act as if they could make no ending for themselves. This kind of power was meant to save and bring joy like the Elements of Harmony, which are probably the best known example of any kind of light magic.

After what it did to Sombra... I know that there isn't a shred of truth in the tales meant to be passed from generation. They are all mere lies-to-foals!

When he can't come up with anything, Sombra looks to me for an answer, some of his arrogance taking light and challenging me to come up with an account that satisfies him.

"After that, Sombra, I went belowdeck and found you-" I paused and inhaled sharply at the memory, not able to look directly at Sombra for a moment. "-writhing on the ground with your own flesh burning and bleeding i-in different parts, I'd never known that light magic could-"

"Luna," Sombra says slowly, carefully running his left forehoof over the criss-crossed layers of bandages, "why can't I feel any of that?"

"I'm getting to that part. When I found you, I knew that Twilight had harmed you and cast a weaker version of the spell I saw you trying to shift to shadow."

Sombra nods, but the gesture is hollow.

"Your skin was already burned, and horribly so but when you began to change it was worse. The deep burns that-"

I quickly smack one of his hooves away from the bandages and shoot him an icy stare before continuing. "-were marring you happened to be some of the most severe I had seen. Your attempt to shift to shadow caused something to worsen as your physical form was altered. The result was me having to..."

Sombra cocks his head to the side in a way that's so cat-like and almost innocent looking. "Luna?"

"I had to use another light spell on you - a kind of warding spell - to force you..." I gulp as my voice becomes quieter, only making my voice louder once Sombra offers a look of concern.

"You needed to force me back into equinoid form?"

I just nod and wait for him to be angry with me, rocking the chair back and forth until he cloaks it with his magic and pulls the it to a stop.

"Are you mad?"

"You did what you had to do," Sombra interrupts, brusquely, "and it was to help me. I won't be mad at you for that. Luna, you don't have to keep asking me these things; I can tolerate more than you give me credit for."

I focus on the unchanging floor for the duration of my tale. I told Sombra of the toll of his actions - the unknowing result of his actions being that his shadow form allowed something, a component of the magic to act as a toxin that had spread through him when he reformed and...

"It gave me blood poisoning?!" he exclaimed, eyes wild as he suddenly clutched at his bandages again.

"Some much like it - I had to spend the first two days just trying to fix that." I gave a sigh filled with all the weariness and worry that had been running rampant through my mind for the past week, "The amount of magic I had to expend was immense, and I was very precise and while I was able to eradicate the toxin itself -" I took a much needed deep breath and looked directly into Sombra's eyes, almost as fiercely as he usually did.

"-but it did a number on you, Sombra. You've noticed that you can't move your right forehoof perfectly, haven't you?"

A slow nod from him, and look of creeping horror.

"Some of your muscle tissue was damaged beyond repair from the burn and the lingering effects of the light magic. Because of this I could not let such a dead, tainted thing remain attached to you. Though your mind might have been lost to me, you became more pained as the magic was left inside, while it is not as parasitic as the majority of what bled into you."

"Luna-"

Reaching out abruptly, I grabbed his right foreleg in mine. "I had to experiment a bit... and reduce the feeling in your leg simply for you to be able to rest well. It's not permanent! I swear, I can reverse it if..." I trail off, not sure how to finish this.

His tone is careful, but holds the undisguised intelligence that he bears when a problem must be identified and solved. I admired this analytical decisiveness about Sombra - few things could slip past his mind and even fewer past his stubborn resolve.

"These bandages-" Sombra motions to them with a momentary flick of his left foreleg "-are they enchanted?"

"They are currently all that is keeping you in decent shape. I have also bathed the things in various burn creams, so it would certainly not be wise to remove them."

"I won't be able to walk," Sombra states, one ear flopped down and the other lowered partway. His expression is dour and a distant look I have seen countless times on the both of us emerges.

"No, I am afraid you will not be able to move much on your own."

Neither of us makes a sound. The quiet is only dispelled when Sombra - without a change in expression - swiftly knocks the glass of water to the floor, where it breaks.

I don't flinch at any of this, my posture is natural but watchful, as if I were still waiting for something to happen.

"I know you needed that," I answer softly when he can't. "I'll clean it up later."

On the floor a small puddle, gleaming faintly with reflections of light and shards of the rather ordinary clear glass used to make the even plainer object packed away with the ship's supplies.

Another brief period of quiet follows, this one allows Sombra to relax as much as he can. His demeanor calms enough for him to refocus and flop backward onto his bed, staring at the ceiling with a look of his signature, near-perpetual grumpy glares of either deep thought, impending wit, or annoyance.

"Sombra, is there any way that you can heal yourself? Or do anything like it other than complete regeneration?"

"Partial regeneration, then?" Sombra responds tonelessly.

"That would be what we both need."

"'We'?" he echos.

"When you're like this, it hurts me too."

A small bit of happiness bursts to life inside me when I see a thin smirk make its way across Sombra's face. "You know, Luna, you're free to admit I'm irresistible at any time."

"On the subject of partial regeneration...!" I declare very loudly.

"Subtle, but yes. I suppose we have."

"Are you able to do partial regeneration or anything like healing?"

"Yes," he says tersely.

"Oh. Would you care to explain then?"

"You're asking for a horrible answer," Sombra warns, all traces of mischief gone.

"If it can help you, then I need you to tell me."

"Well..."

I gave Sombra an encouraging but unsmiling look. Whatever he had to say, I would listen to, and I wanted him to know this.

"I'm able to possess certain things - snowstorms, for example. It takes some work, but I can possess most things like that: snowstorms, trees, and if I really wanted too, I imagine I could inhabit a cloud as well."

"I could get a cloud for you..."

"It wouldn't work. You see, if I want to regenerate anything this severe, I'll need something proper to-" He swallows "-leech off of."

"Somepony," I correct, voice low and quiet.

"Yes," he whispers.

To heal himself... he would have to possess me...

One thousand years of cold, isolated imprisonment with a shattered mind come crashing down on me and the room's temperature plummets.

That certainly wasn't possession, but it had been close enough. I still hadn't told Sombra...

...about the Tantabus. If he were to go through with this then he would see my memories and-

"Luna? I know the answer is going to be-"

"I-I don't know!"

The chair rattles again, my wings threatening to unfold to make an escape except-

Except I cannot keep running. I have every reason to trust Sombra, to hope that he will understand the things I have done, and believe that he will help me.

Despite my cold sweat and shaky legs, I give a thin smile to reassure the both of us. His expression is troubled and shocked. "Are you saying that you would-?"

He gulps before he can finish - or perhaps he just doesn't want to, so I finish the thought, my own nervousness not concealed in any way.

"...Agree to that? I would have to think about it. It would not be an easy decision for me."

"I understand. Although, I'm not much use with my leg like this, am I?"

I scowl. "You're not an object, Sombra! Whatever 'use' you perceive yourself to have isn't worth dwelling on."

"But Luna-"

He's not getting away with this one. The chair I have been tipping back and forth and side to side careens over and I forfeit my divine grace, allowing myself to land on the floor. My forehooves catch the side of the bed and once the spectacle is over I almost look as if I am wishing upon a star, which Sombra finds amusing until he sees my expression - the exact opposite of his, and no longer bearing any smile.

"Can we go outside?"

Sombra's ears pricked forward simultaneously. "It sounds like it may be raining. Why do you want to go abovedeck now?"

I eye the walls before bringing my gaze back to my own forehooves. "I like to be outside when I'm upset. It's calming."

Sombra nods in agreement and taps me on the wither with his left forehoof. "Care to lend a hoof? I'm not in any condition to walk and I think you have something important to tell me."

"You are certainly living up to your title as the god of knowledge," I say, my voice coming out quieter then I expected before I take his hoof in mine.



...



A light rain drums against the deck and against Sombra's newest cloak, which is now streaked with rain. His right foreleg is slung around my neck to help him walk, and he holds onto me as much as he is able to before we find a spot to sit down. He follows along, head tilted up toward the sky, and distracted by the raindrops that hit his mane and muzzle as I lead him over to his favorite spot: the space next to the office door and rail where he liked to read. Sombra settled closer to the rail, glancing up at the water that dripped off the office's roof, forming a curtain of water that divided us from our dry corner and the slick deck.

"Is this about me?"

I look over to Sombra. Although he looks out at the world around him, blanketed with clouds in many shades of silver, he refuses to remove his foreleg. I don't mind.

"No," I reply, scooting closer to him. Sombra shoots me a quick glance filled with many things ranging from quiet encouragement to dispelled apprehension.

"You can start then," Sombra says quietly, his horn glowing and his cloak expands and changes into a large, plain blanket of crimson that he levitates to cover us both. "I'm not going to interrupt you for this."

Sombra's gaze isn't harsh, but he still gives me an unwavering, calculating and expectant look. That is until I rest my head on his wither, falling over as if by accident until I feel soft cloth bandages covering him. Sombra doesn't wince, but moves his forehoof to steady me.

And then he waits like this for me to stop crying.

"Sombra?"

"Are you ready to tell me?"

"Yes," I say, and the strength and urgency in my voice - though it may be through tears - does not feel forced.

The sound of rain carries on before I decide to speak again.

"When I returned from my banishment, it was the Elements of Harmony, that restored me."

This, of course we both know and I feel Sombra nod.

"Do you know what came after, Sombra?"

"Something important, I imagine?"

"It... I didn't think that I could ever be helped... and even if I was, I never thought that I could be forgiven - and most certainly not by Celestia."

"Because she's a narrow-minded imbecile?"

"Because I hurt her the most with my actions, Sombra."

"If you say so." 

"I hadn't forgiven myself for what I had done. Tia was almost too forgiving. She kept telling me that all was forgiven and everypony would accept me now. She was so proud of this, Sombra. Tia wanted me to see all the progress she made with 'her little ponies'."

"I suppose they are slightly less barbaric now, Luna. Most of them can read now, even if it doesn't really show."

Despite myself, I eked out a small laugh, but it was mostly drowned out by the rain.

"I felt I was forgiven far too easily. How was I supposed to treasure my dear sister's mercy if it was given so easily? I had done nothing to deserve this, hadn't I?"

"Nopony deserves anything." Sombra's tone has an edge of suspicion in it, but that does not surprise me. Somepony as perceptive as he is would be piecing things together from the start of my tale.

"Well, then I had not earned it, and this haunted me. While I was no longer what I had been, a cruel destroyer who had sunken into the deepest despair with a mind forever in agony, I was no pure goddess, as Celestia told me I was. I was not stripped of my memories - I knew what I had done!"

I drew a sharp breath as I felt Sombra hold me closer. My next words were spoken quietly, for we both knew what I was capable of.

"I knew that I could fall back to the helm of the harbinger of despair I had become."

Sombra's grip on me tightens as much he can manage with his right leg. Does he know what was coming next?

"I-I wasn't thinking straight in those early months. The effect of happiness that came from being in my new home with my sister - now a kinder mare - had worn off, but I didn't want to let that show to Celestia. Maybe she suspected my misery, or at least a trace of it, but she gave me my space. Perhaps it was out of ignorance, and perhaps it was out of a sincere desire for my comfort. She really didn't know how bad it was, nor would she give me the chance I wanted. Even if I told her, she wouldn't understand, nor would anypony else."

I think if I were to look at Sombra right now, he would be scowling. "She tried to turn airheaded bigots obsessed with titles and money into something better - and what did she get? Pacifistic fools that would tolerate their own homes being burned in front of them, but blame a neighbor for the deed on the basis of eccentricities alone, and cannot use the resources given to them properly. It's hardly an improvement."

"She didn't know what I was doing to myself," I whisper and instantly Sombra's clutch feels like a rope's burn. When I yelp at the sudden harshness he apologizes and lets go. Cold air surrounds my withers where he had rested his foreleg.

I didn't want him to do that, but when I look at him again, I see why he could no longer bear to be around me. Sombra leans against the wall, manages a choked swallow and looks straight at me, eyes troubled.

"What in the world did you do, Luna?"

"Do you really want to hear?" In my mind, I'm begging that he'll say yes. It's the answer I need from a pony who might be able to help me and understand - somepony I care so much about and have needed to tell this to and trust with any secrets I have, old or new.

He swallows again and buries his face in his forehooves. Somehow, his voice is clear: "I think I need to."

"It felt like I had learned nothing at all, and that I would forget what little salvation I had been given. I really hadn't learned anything, and it felt like history would repeat itself sooner or later."

"You weren't right."

"But I was scared."

"And that made you unreasonable."

"It did, Sombra. It really did. I created a spirit... one that held some control of itself..."

Sombra made a choked noise somewhere in the back of his throat. Had I really been so cruel that I would forget that he shares a similar origin to the Tantabus? This story is no doubt going to trouble him even more.

I move as close as I possibly can to Sombra and give him a long hug. "The Tantabus wasn't anything like you, Sombra, and you're nothing like it. I promise. I would never, ever place the the Tantabus on the same level as you, nor could I use you as I used a minion of dreams with little semblance of a mind to call its own."

Despite the blanket around us, Sombra is shivering.

"Shhh, it's alright Sombra. May I continue now, or do you want me to stop...?"

"Continue," Sombra replies simply, and I let him go, watching as he messes with a few frayed threads of magic in the cloak-turned-blanket.

"Every time I slept, the Tantabus would recreate, to the best of its ability, a similar rush of magic. I would turn into a phantom of what I had been, and have to live that over and over again. It drew on the new power I had worked out for myself: the ability to enter the dreams of others. The full extent of this power is not known, even to me."

"Does anypony but me know that you do-"

"Did... I was found out when there was... another mistake, and one that was all my fault, of course. It happened a year ago. The Tantabus no longer is of any use to me, nor do I wish to use it again."

"What's going to be done about your problems though? You certainly haven't recovered."

"Tia started talking about a therapist, but..."

"Did you not want one?"

"No, it's just that immortal minds - and sometimes those who simply think like one - are not things that a mortal mind could ever decipher properly. For Tia and I, it did not matter how many we visited, not a single one could keep up or begin to understand me. There is no therapy fit for immortals because there are no therapists who can study immortals. Until somepony decides that they shall spend their eternity, or as much of it they can bear, learning to treat everlasting souls like you and I, there will be no such solution for this problem. Not to mention that talking about the past, and all that lived in it - well, if I were to do that I would be giving away all sorts of intelligence and who knows how many eras worth of secrets and incomprehensible workings. It would give a rather dismal definition to the modern phrase of blowing one's mind and the therapist might need some therapy themselves. There's always that eldritch part to us that make us so perplexing, and that we cannot be treated in the same way a mortal would be."

"What did you mean by 'think like an immortal'? That isn't exactly something I've heard before."

"First, imagine you had the ability to make somepony immortal. Who would you pick?"

"That's a no-brainer. I'd pick somepony with a rotten mess of a personality: submissive, meek, codependent, and more. I'd isolate them and study them after that-"

"Alright, it's clear that I shall have to explain this differently: immortal brains aren't the same as mortal ones. We're able to handle more memories, more information, greater power, and all sorts of things. While Alicorns clearly aren't entirely alien from ponies, there are significant differences that would render us unable to swap places."

"I'm well aware of this."

"I know you are," I say, inching closer to Sombra, "Consider it a refresher."

"An unneeded one, but alright."

"A mortal - an ordinary one straight off of the streets - that has immortality given to them would lose themselves. After a while, their mind would collapse. They do not think in the same ways, Sombra. Yes, they could reach the same conclusion as a draconequus or Alicorn but how they got there is different, though most importantly it is their mind and its conditions that differ. Does that analogy make sense to you?"

"Yes. Now, go on, if you will. You have my interest." He gave me a slight smirk.

"Now every so often - usually ages apart of course - there is a mortal, often with some unusual circumstances about them that truly stands out, no matter what they do. Most things about them vary, but there is usually a sense of ambition or promise about them. Something makes them feel larger than the world around them, and while they do not necessarily have great power they have a sort of endurance to them that enables these rare and enigmatic individuals to play the same game that we do."

"So, they're the remarkable to the everyday?"

"Very much so. Despite their mortality, the manage to transcend most of the gap that lies between them and an immortal. There is nothing magical about this, it is simply a wonder of this world that has continued on."

"Do you know of anypony like this?"

"I imagine Celestia has met more ponies like this than I have, but I know only two."

Sombra's eyes are bright with hints of the light of curiosity.

"I am quite that Miss Rarity could be one such soul, and you are the other. Your status as such is undisputed - even to my sister."

Sombra breaks into a smug smile. "I certainly am rather remarkable, aren't I?"

"I knew for sure that you were when the floors of the Crystal Palace vanished beneath my own hooves long ago."

As soon as I speak those words the only sound between us is the pattering of raindrops and a gasp cut short from Sombra. Him resting his head on my left wither took me by surprise.

"I wish that you hadn't had to go through that."

I don't have the heart to tell Sombra that wish is a very hollow one.

"Luna?" Sombra says, keeping his voice low.

"What is it, Sombra?" I start to hum a soft tune, like the persistent symphony of rain and adjust the blanket to keep it from being hit by any more than a dozen drops.

"Would you let me help you?"

My horn stops glowing and the only light we sat by on this cloudy afternoon dims to soft, tired shades of gray.

"With?" I ask, though his request is obvious to me. To us.

"Healing," he mumbles between a yawn, before snuggling closer to me. "I want to be there for you, if you want me to."

"Well..." I start stroking Sombra's mane "What might I have to do?"

"Talk to me."

"Surely you don't want to hear me ramble of what saddens me all the time? I don't want to bother you with silly things at all hours. I know how short your patience is with such things."

"Luna, do you really discredit me that much? When you don't want to talk to me is when I want to hear you the most. We can work through this, even though 'easy' is the last thing it will be."

That is all I have ever wanted to hear. A grateful tear slips down my cheek and falls on one of Sombra's ears. I am too busy blinking away the rest to see which one.

"Sombra, is this not something I should do alone? I don't want to drag you into anything like this."

"Then I'll drag myself in, thank you very much."

"But should I not deal with this on my own?"

"That's exactly what you shouldn't do. Of course, some things you'll always have to do alone, but I want to be there for you. Yes, the most important choices and steps of anything we'll always have to take alone. I, personally, think it's better that way. Do you think that every time I tell you that I love you that I take it lightly, or that I won't support you with things like this?"

"You aren't angry?"

"No."

"Not even a little bit?"

"It would be a huge case of the pot calling the kettle black if I were to be angry at you for this."

Pot calling the kettle black? I know the phrase but how would it apply to Som-

Oh...

I wrap my wing around him under the crimson fabric, and get Sombra to sit up for a moment so I can pull him closer until he is draped in a feathery embrace. Sombra rests his head on my wither once again, ears pointed back a bit and he looks a tad uncomfortable even though I can feel him relax slightly.

"You-"

"Tried something similar, yes," he admits.

"Were you planning to tell me?"

"It slipped out. So, no. Never."

I don't reply. There's nothing I can think to say beyond the obvious. In the brief silence between us, the melody of rain fills my ears.

"I don't suppose anypony else knows."

"Only you know anything about it, Luna."

The rain has lessened a bit, but clouds still cover the sky with dark, murky stains like a relaxing watercolor.

"Could you tell me, Sombra? I know that self-disclosure isn't something you would consider with anypony else, but I won't tell anypony, I swear upon..."

What could I swear an oath of secrecy upon that would be good enough for him?

"...your love for me, that I, Luna Galaxia will tell nopony of what you are about to disclose."

Once I spoke, I waited for his reply and not even the rain could serve as a proper distraction.

"Fine. That'll do."

"What happened?"

Sombra tenses up and ducks his head, which startles me.

"Don't interrupt, and I would appreciate it greatly if you didn't ask many questions. I'm not one to recount memories. I most certainly am not sure how to explain this one to you; it's never one I planned to tell to another soul."

"I agree."

"Good. Then I'll start..."
> Chapter 29: In the Time When Shadows Still Wept
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Sombra:


I used to cry often, but only when I was sure I was alone. I wasn't always sure if Onyx was just hiding that he was still lingering in my mind with me.

It was an absolutely horrifying feeling. Sometimes I wished he was some sort of physical parasite that I could just cut out of me, no matter how deep I had to drive the blade. He was already trying to tear me apart, so why would he care if I did it myself?

It's because I was the irreplaceable weapon, bound to the one who wielded me. That knowledge was as everyday for me as the sight of a throne is for you, Luna.

There really wasn't much for me to do in that castle when he wasn't using me during the day. One of Onyx's favorite things was to get me during the few times of the day when I was still conscious, but was not in complete control. All my actions would be puppetted by him, and he would be the one speaking. From there he would prove to me that he could rip ponies apart from the inside out.

He used my magic and my name to do it. He used me to do it, and that's one of the things that made me furious - which was something he loved dearly.

Usually, I would be active at night. I had the whole night to myself for disposing of whatever I found around the castle, creating hidden rooms almost as suffocating as the rest of the place felt, and always watching my back for the ghost mare who haunted certain parts of the castle this insomniac happened to pass by.

Or maybe the old queen was just a ghost my sleepless mind thought up, at least some nights.

There were already dozens of them, and I was an illiterate fifteen year old out of his mind. I was bound to see some things that weren't there.

I was terrified of sleeping. Because of Onyx. Because of the crystal ponies. Because of the ghosts.

More than anything, it was because I was never sure if I would wake up myself. 

The spells I used to keep myself awake then weren't very good. Being illiterate is horrible when you have the inclination to experiment with spellcraft that I do. Some of the spells to get rid of the ghosts had the opposite effect. They made me hallucinate more than ever and turned my senses against me. On those nights the castle was my tomb more than anything else.

I would run away from things that weren't there, attack things that couldn't be, and be injured by things that weren't what they seemed.

It felt like everything was after me, and I would often lock myself in closets - the closest thing to 'safe' places - and cry, screaming for things that I saw to go away until I passed out on my own, or until I tried to make myself black out.

I sill remember those times clearly.

One night, somewhere around the time I turned sixteen... I don't know what my birthday would be, but I could guess. I had locked myself in what I thought was one of the closest.

It was a small library and some place that Onyx would never bother to go, and that he would hate. Since I had nothing better to do and I was intrigued, I sat down and pulled out the biggest book I could find. I found that it was filled with pictures as well. I learned later that it was an atlas. I stayed up all night poring over a single page, staring at keys and names I couldn't read for hours upon hours, until I knew it would be best to leave my small haven.

From then on, I would return to that library each night. Teaching myself to read wasn't much as of a problem as I thought it would be. I was no foal who had to be taught the basics of language. While I couldn't read language, I could speak it. I knew that all these symbols meant something. Such basic knowledge went a long way, and I was already a genius. It didn't take much for me to have my muzzle buried in thousand-plus page tomes of gods, history, and magic. I learned to read quickly, and then I learned to read correctly too. Soon, I was knowing every word and wanting more with each cover I closed.

I realized that I was meant to read, but I think everypony is. Every word stayed stuck in my mind, like a library within me. I could recite entire equations without error and recall entire volumes as time went on, and it felt natural.

Luna, one of the things I've left out about myself is what I came from.

Shoved far away from the eyes of any who bothered to look was a book of dark magic in Starswirl's possession. He had no knowledge of what power it held, but this book - the Book - could ensnare minds like Onyx's without any trouble.

It knew things. It would give you everything you ever wanted at the cost of everything you were and could be, until you lived a life that would be everything you never wanted.

The Book certainly wasn't from the time of the tribes, some other time, I'll tell you what became of it. You can remind me, if you want to.

If you ask me, it was beyond a monstrosity. I came from the power it held, and have a copy of the forever-changing eldritch knowledge burned into my mind. That copy was something Onyx didn't know of, and never found out about.

I'm living eldritch knowledge even without the copy.

But back when I first learned to read, I was always in need of a more ambitious pursuit when it came to knowledge.

After all, knowledge beats power, and it always had a price. By amounting so much of it I was priceless. 

I also wanted to know what the phantom tome in my mind said. Compared to the straightforward nature of most books, I knew that this one would be more difficult to unravel.

Of course, I was right. If all other volumes were straight paths from the start to the end, then the Book was a labyrinth that even I had some difficulties navigating. Each spell was never as it seemed and each intention more deceitful, malicious, and genius than the last. I was still able to see what was going on and that there was more magic for me to learn, and of course it wouldn't be hard for me to master more magic. I had already taught myself dead languages, and magic wasn't something I had ever been horrible at. Now, I had more wealth than a literal mountain of gold could compare to.

My magic began to grow to what it is today, the circumstance of my acquired knowledge blending almost perfectly with my power that increased with age. These were the same powers that Onyx took more and more pleasure in abusing. This was the same power that only bound me to the Crystal Empire with each passing year, and all but ensured my worsening treatment.

When I first found the spell that created me, I saw that was no race-changing spell at all. Instead, it was just another trick to create a being like myself. He had never seen through it, or second guessed anything told to him by magic that filled his head. I shouldn't have expected him to, and while it wasn't surprising, the exact nature of the spell that created me always bothered me.

I didn't need to ask who would try and devastate themselves - and to an extent, me - like this. I had more than the answer and the proof of the former. I had Onyx himself and everything he had ever thought as testament to this. Questions never had much of a point to me when all I had to do was simply look or listen to find an answer; the picture was always worth more than the frame.

At this point, when I was almost seventeen, I didn't even need a reason to hate Onyx, but I had hundreds. All of them were familiar and clear to me. Why wouldn't they be? Still, knowing what he agreed to, and all the things he never knew in order to create the perfect monster, only served to deepen the hatred that I still carry for him. As our time in the Crystal Empire wore on, I hated him for creating me.

And that meant that I hated living.

Like the Book, there is always another meaning or some other thought behind what I say. Though, you know I'm far more honest. Everything I do is centered around me, to some extent, and it branches out from there.

Speaking is no different. With it, I can define myself, assert myself, twist things, illuminate things, and hide things. With words I can also fight, and I fought him with a constant war of words that were an extent of the only rebellion I had: my own self. He tried to tear me apart, and there was no way I was going to go out without burning in the first place.

By the time I was seventeen, I was all rebellion in a war that would take us both. My mind was sharper than any knife he could take to me, but I was still able to bleed. Do you remember the boots and cape I had to wear all those years ago?There was a good deal of scars beneath them. They're gone now, regenerating takes care of that. I hate those kind of scars simply because I find them constant and unsightly above all else.

They aren't something to be proud of.

I don't miss them.

Sometimes, I shifted parts of me - mostly my legs and sides - to shadow in order to stop the bleeding. Where do you think I first learned to do that and why? It was for self preservation. Everything was.

But then, I think I would have wanted to stay silent most of all and draw myself deeper into my own mind and the infinite despise that scorched Onyx like the fire that I had to use-

Never mind. Maybe I'll recount that part some other time.

Trust me when I say that you don't want to hear it. Probably not ever. It'll be a long time before I want to.

Don't ask again, I'm getting off track, Luna.

I continued to waste away during my seventeenth year, where the only proof a larger world were your stars, era upon era of distant lands, and everything else found in the libraries that Onyx never bothered to touch in this well-preserved Empire. My desire to rip through page upon page of whatever I could get my hooves on increased.

Being from knowledge - and not a pony - as well as treated like an object made me want to be around those books more and more, not simply for what lay between the covers and scrawled between the rolled-up shapes of scrolls. I liked them in the way the smallest foal likes to drift between their parents and older family when surrounded by strangers at a party.

They weren't alive, I knew that. I wasn't treated like I could think most of the time unless it could be used to hurt me. Books weren't ponies, and neither was I. They couldn't say anything stupid or hurt me. I liked their silent company and because of our similar natures, mostly in origin, that is. Books have been the closest thing I have ever had to kin, or something similar to me, as impossible as that is.

Only in the Empire was Onyx able to rule me as he ruled the crystal ponies with dark magic, myself, and the endless jealousy he has for all that is better than him. Were I to be outside of the Empire in what I judged as a lost world - I knew of only two gods who lived - I would end up dead within a week due to the duel nature of my existence with Onyx, unless we were to usurp something again.

With this knowledge, I began the futile hunt for the exact nature of my bond with Onyx and the magic that tied us together while continuing to learn what I could. Demons weren't exactly prominent even in those texts, and at least not by name. What little there was on them - or other similar creatures - in a world where the gods still walked among other equines and empires flourished were fleeting references in epics and other sagas that offered little insight to my nature. Even the Book was not something I could dabble extensively in.

I had to change the way I searched, scouring tomes for things that normal magic couldn't do by educating myself on everything it could do in order to draw up what I could of the other side of magic. There was much cross referencing of obscure texts and passages from sources that were long forgotten, even at the time these things were written.

With the limited time I had for such activities, I had to be even more creative. Onyx liked to raid the crystal ponies the way any imbecile of a thief would chose to plunder gold instead of knowledge or some other practical good. He still presumed that I could not read or that I could simply read very little. Every time I gained enough control, I could hide or preserve as many written sources as I could, sometimes for me to retrieve later.

I read through the diaries, journals of independent research, folklore of many of the ponies Onyx and I killed to the point where I could write more accurate biographies of themselves than their autobiographies could ever aim to be. I only found flat tales of monsters and all the things that would be yelled at me put on paper, among tall tales of ancestors' deeds and half-remembered legends of gods.

You can imagine just how horribly I took the frustration. 

Still, I refused to give up - as if I could in my situation.

While the intended purpose of my activities was to know my nature, by gaining knowledge on what could never be I learned something else: the greater details of the dead worlds.

I knew that I was mortal, but I never really cared about mortality. I was surrounded by it. Little about death had an impact on me. Even when I gave the dead worlds a fleeting thought, I knew that there might as well only be one for me, and it was no different from the world I lived in.

If there was no difference in either Tartarus, then what would be the point in staying?

I could be separated from Onyx if I died; we were two souls in one body, after all. For the first time in my short life since my dreams of travel and seclusion had been robbed from me, I wanted to do something.

I was seventeen years old, and I wanted nothing more than to die.

There was no way I was going to wait around for my death to occur. I was going to die myself, and by my own terms.

On the idealistic side, it would be one last rebellion, at least in life.

I'd make it the most painful one yet. For the both of us.

I'd love any chance to make him suffer when I saw his face when he realized we both stood on Tartarus' threshold and I could try and give him everything and more of what he did to me, before trying to escape into the hellish desolation we would spend eternity in. Perhaps I could have my wish to be alone. Forever miserable, but still alone. Life had always tried me, but it's not like I could complain even if I cared enough to. He would suffer enough on his own because I could always survive when he had always needed me.

Like the great snake of legend, I would consume myself.

And my efforts would go down in flames.

I know this is a grim tale, Luna, but I don't lie when I say that I've never felt much of anything that could be called happiness in those years. They were the greatest years of Onyx's life, which meant that they were only ever going to be the worst of mine.

The night I had everything planned, I broke down in tears over the book I was reading in the corner of the library I always backed myself into for reading. I had the knife - a large, nasty thing - I was planning to use under my cloak. I just needed to be ready, as if that was something that could come easily or one could prepare for. Instead, I kept crying. This was the thing I wanted to do most with my life now - end it - and I was too busy trying to refrain from curling into a ball on the floor.

To say I wasn't scared would be lying, but fear wasn't what I felt most then. I wasn't going to miss anything that anypony would ever stop to consider: the books in the libraries, the dark sky at night, the way clouds looked in the day, the light of the stars, the taste of snow, the look of words, the color green, the way light reflects in ice, and anything that amounted to the few things I liked about the world.

I would miss being alive, as much as I wanted to be dead.

I wanted to go to all the places I had read about and see places that I had never even heard of. I wanted to see if there was any food that actually tasted good. I wanted to steal things and read more.

I wanted an adventure.

I also wanted to die, because even if I used to always want to live, I hated living almost as much as I hated Onyx himself and what I was put through and everything that was in my head because of him.

When I couldn't stop crying, I had to try to force myself to try and concentrate on that and that alone, which caused me to sink deeper into distress until I was screaming at myself to get it together.

Onyx rarely paid attention to me at night. A few times, in the earliest days of his reign, he had caught me wandering the castle and tormented me along with the ghosts and visions of things that weren't there. The only other times he had caught me was when he needed me - who he would never admit was the superior, smarter one - to construct another hidden room, something he never had the skill to do properly. 

Even though I had never had anything external of myself then, this room - a secret to him and a testament to everything I had been up to - had been mine. And I knew that everything was going to be worse when the phantom feeling - something like a brief burning headache for me - that marked his oncoming presence faded. For a brief moment, I was able to return to what I had been here for beyond contemplating my own death: bringing about those events.

I had to think of something coherent in that desperate panic, and my mind naturally thought of something almost instantaneously. I quickly scrambled past - or rather, through, shelves since I sometimes found myself dissolving into shadow when I was panicking - and face the far wall with the knife aimed at my own chest. Only the glow of my horn lit the gray room that I had never even risked a candle in. I needed to hear his voice to show him what I was about to do, that he would be coming with me to Tartarus - and how horrified he would be when there wasn't anypony to hurt any more - but I wasn't going to protest this.

Tartarus and the Crystal Empire were different names to describe the same place.

The same world.

If I could be free, I could do anything I wanted in Tartarus, since I wasn't one to be trifled with. A mad shadow who was gone just as quickly as he came, but burned worse than any flame is exactly what I would be there. If I really wanted to, if I disregarded all of my nature, then I could even be the monster they wanted to be. I could never do that, and I wouldn't humor them. Not now. Not ever.

Of the many thoughts racing through my head, one of them was how if I didn't succeed and everything went wrong...

The rest of my life would be worse. Far, far worse no matter how many rebellions.

The chance that I might lose myself would become even greater.

I barely saw the sun now, due of my nocturnal existence in the Crystal Palace. On rare occasions, I had watched the sun set over the world that I would never get to see, but I had never witnessed daybreak over the Empire.

Here I was now, near begging and wishing fruitlessly that tomorrow would come.

I didn't plan on doing this quickly or cleanly. At that time, I had very little skill in changing my chest into shadow - an ax would have killed me fairly easily if I let it. This was to my advantage then - stabbing myself in the heart would have been a horrible way to do things. My mind could conjure up far worse ends for myself without much trouble even if I hadn't endured and witnessed literal torture on a day to day basis.

I was going to stick this knife as deep as possible in my chest until it couldn't be removed and force myself to start reforming around that. I would tear myself apart more slowly and painfully than Onyx ever could, and I would focus all my mental energy into making sure my reformation was as botched, painful, and hurried as possible leaving only enough time for Onyx and I to exchange a few words.

This was my only chance. I would never get to do anything like this again because I'd either be dead or suffering some far worse mortal torment. I didn't want to leave anything left for the crystal ponies and this purposely botched reformation would ensure that there would be little recognizable as me even if I was found within a few days.

Reforming this fast and terribly would put so much strain on myself - as I intended, however gruesome it would be - that I would explode. Yes, literally explode. They'd be scraping splatters of me off the walls and cleaning a messy, soupy gunk made of all sort of parts of me, now unrecognizable off of the walls. I can only guess what they'd have done to me if I had succeeded and chosen something less grisly...

Gah, Luna! It was a long time ago, you don't have to hold onto me so tightly, alright? For the sake of both of us, I'd never do that again. I don't have to go through all of things again, and if I do encounter something similar I have plenty of ways to escape - and more patience - then I did then.

Sometimes I'm even happy, you know when and why. I promise. You don't have to shed so many tears over me or make various attempts to crush my rib cage after tackling me to the ground.

Luna, I swear by the same stars that you do and the same love that you made an oath by, that I'm no longer in the same state of mind that led me to make those decisions. I've seen to much of the world to want to leave it, even if I could. I've met you.

I'm going to finish. Are you sure you want to stay and hear this all the way to the end? You will?

...I'm going to greatly omit parts then, partly because I don't want you to be crying much more. Luna, you've cried enough since we left Equestria, and been managing more than you should. I can't let you have all the glory can I? When do I get my share of soul-crippling depression and unnecessary stress? Why are you hogging it?

Stop laughing, if you aren't going to be generous with it! That is one of your Elements of Harmony, so why don't you live up to it!

Oh? It was your sister's? That's your excuse for being so unbearably selfish? Do you know how much that hurts coming from my...

No, Luna I was not going to say 'lover'!

What's this about co-captains? Fine. We're co-captains. Now may I continue? I'd really like to wrap this up.

Yes, I know the rain stopped. No, I think the sky looked nicer when it was raining.

No Luna, I am not annoyed. May I just finish? This isn't something I'm ever going to tell to anypony again. I want to tell it to you in full - or at least as full as it needs to be - now.

Onyx appeared in my mind and he saw before him everything he never wanted and what he had been up to. For years. He saw part of the reason behind my power and just another reason I fought on. Books he had overlooked on shelves of crystal. Some of the shelves had been tipped over in my scramble and spilled the tomes I had come to care just a bit for onto the floor. He noted how I winced slightly at some of the pages that had crumpled in the fall. When it came to my discomfort and the suffering he had perception almost as good as ours, Luna.

He could see the knife. By slowly starting to slip into my mind, he could feel the hot tears coursing down my face and tell that I had been crying. That I could cry. Next, Onyx gave me his biggest smile just to let me know that I wasn't in control any more. That I couldn't keep secrets from him and that I was never alone.

He wrestled memories of this place - or at least as many as he could from me - and learned of how much I cried here.

He liked that.

He liked it far too much.

We fought with the other in between my screams. Having your mind invaded, something he could rarely do then, and did poorly hurt. He also focused primarily on making the experience painful for me, which meant he didn't concentrate and could only access so much even if I didn't resist. Onyx was furious when he found out the full extent of my plan, and of how I was going to bring us both to Tartarus and leave the Empire in anarchy. 

He wanted to make me pay.

And unfortunately, I now had things he could take from me.

Remember when I said I was going to leave out details at certain points?

This is where that applies. I'll just be skipping to the results of his actions instead.

All those books, utterly priceless and filled with knowledge that wars would be fought over today and revolutionize many fields of academia? That taught me about Alicorns? That held generations worth of history and magic that hadn't been seen by the Tribesponies in eras, and would be the most tantalizing pieces of information to any modern scholar who could even realize that a single paragraph was worth more than their entire existence?

He made me...

...burn...

...I'm so sorry...

...each...

...Luna, I didn't want to. Really, I would never...

...No Luna, I'm not crying. I don't do that any more.

He made me burn each and every one.

Onyx puppetted my actions by allowing me just enough control to feel how painful it was to have him move me, so I could cry all I wanted, and wield the fire that he wasn't as naturally inclined to as I was.

The first and last time I ever begged in my life was for him not to make me do this between sobs and curses. I pleaded for him 'not to kill the books'.

I sounded like a gods-damned child. For the first time in my wretched life, I had sounded innocent. That made me so furious. I acted like those books were alive. 'Kill'.

He told me that I would. That it would be all my fault.

Then when that massacre was over, he said he had a lesson of his own to teach me, since I was so smart and had somehow managed to learn to read. 

He was going to teach me how to write.

Not really, of course. This was Onyx and he lied constantly to me when I never lied to him. Even when keeping secrets from him I never needed to lie like he did.

He had never called me smart before. I... I know he could not have meant it, but that scared me so damn much.

One thing Onyx loved about me - as much as his sadistic perversion of the feeling could manage - was that I could do much more then take a hit and weave proper spells to remove the need for sleep. I could bleed more than a pony and not come out worse for wear in comparison. So, he snatched control again, more forcefully than even he usually did and recovered the knife I had used in my attempt, reminding me that the other libraries would be needing my attention - at least in any of the wings I liked - tomorrow.

Because, much to my ever-increasing dread, tomorrow was coming.

After that, the rest of my forever-miserable life where 'escape' would only mean something I could never do, and I would spend whatever waking moments I had trying to poison myself or do something, anything really...

I mentioned earlier in this damned awful tale that under the armor and cape of the king - at least at the time - I had an array of scars.

Scars might not be the best definition for them. They were mostly just wounds that Onyx liked to re-open at a whim, just when if felt like they might heal as best as they could. I wanted them to be nothing but memories, but he never let them stay that way.

How didn't it hurt him too, Luna? That's simple, really. Even though Onyx was an unwanted guest in my mind he could still feel some things through my nerves. This was an ability he stopped using for all but some of the most basic things after a while. Since I wasn't the one who was a parasite, I'm not sure if I'd know or be able to explain all the intricacies of that perspective. There was another option I know he could use and did understand. Due to his nature as a parasite who was even more unwanted then usual, he could control me without the need to feel anything physical via my body, leaving only a mental imprint at times to alert me of him. This 'helped' further my paranoia and suspicion of almost anything around me.

This enabled him to hurt me to his heart's content with little direct consequence to him. He told me that if I thought of myself as a book so much, then why was I so blank? He tried to make this sound evil or like an interesting joke - I can't quite capture his stupidity so briefly here - by adding a few remarks about 'all books being boring' so it was fitting that I considered myself one.

He forced me to stay conscious and be able to feel everything that came after.

After taking the knife to an exposed part of my wither, he began to laugh a bit when it drew blood. I wanted to look away.

'Hey, Sombra, look! Sombra look! Ink! You really are a book!'

This event became the reason why Onyx had the king wear a chestplate later on, and he liked to remind me why. 

This kid was either sadistically stupid or sadistically sinister, and usually if he was the former he'd be the latter shortly. That had been the smoke. Now, I only had to wait for the flame to burn me.

Onyx started opening as many nicks and cuts as possible until I ran red with dozens upon dozens of scarlet rivulets and my legs had trails of blood on them. Both of us began to feel dizzy, but I was in pain and he wasn't. Leave it to Onyx to not know that irony isn't something you can smelt, but know all the different ways to dissect a pony and drag on torture as long as possible like most foals know the alphabet and comic characters.

I know how to do so as well, but unlike him I don't show that I know those things until I require them. I hope I don't.

No, I didn't actually learn to write. You know that, but he allowed me enough control to feel that those actions - the ones he forced - were not entirely his. With my own blood-coated hoof, I had to write three words on that wall with shaking, broad, and sloppy  strokes that were determined by him.

"You can't win.'

All were in big, capital letters that danced into darkness every time I threatened to blink.

I would never let those words be true.

I would always win, eventually.

I would always defy anything I never saw fit to follow.

I still do, Luna.

I was so exhausted when all this was over and he slipped out of my mind and on his merry way that I collapsed into the ashes of what might as well be the closest thing I had to friends. Each word written in those books was worth more than the lives a thousand crystal ponies and more.

I don't think I can tell you just how much I wanted to cry then, to not feel like I wasn't dissolving in unreleased poison from the inside out.

I don't think I want to.

All these years later, I still don't have it in me to cry. I wish I would, but that was the only part of me Onyx was able to take. I doubt I'll ever get it back. I've accepted that, at least. We don't always get what we want. That's why something isn't there any more.

...And there you have it.

Your silence isn't surprising, but I'm not sure what to make of this look you're giving me, Luna. Don't you realize that there aren't many stories I have about my early life that aren't inherently macabre or dismal?

Was this story too upsetting for you? You did tell me that-

What...? Why did you just pull me back down to the deck? It's not as if I were going to hit my head or anything. I want to go back to my cabin now that you've raised the moon and get some reading done, since I'm going to need it after everything I just told you. Would you mind helping me back belowdeck?

'Don't go'? Luna, why-

You're worried about me? Luna, I swear-

The dream of mine you visited? What abo-

Oh.

Fine.

I'll stay under your wing, but do I really appear that tired to you?

I do? Are you sure it isn't that you just can't take your eyes off me?

Ooh, you aren't denying it? I'm that irresistible to you? Am I perhaps, irresistible enough for you to give me an answer tomorrow on what we're going to being doing about the fact that I still can't feel my right-

Tomorrow afternoon? Well, wake me up then and before I forget. Nothing we said to the other will be told to anypony else, correct? This will stay between us, all of it?

Thanks, Luna.

'Good night, Sombra'? That's certainly one I've never heard before...
> Chapter 30: Drawing out Poison
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Luna:


Sombra held a needle he had conjured in his aura, frowning disdainfully toward a tear in the crimson fabric before him. He had it changed back to a cloak and slipped it on again. We both sat out on the deck, the morning sun dimmed with a cover of clouds and the navigation system between us. The spool of thread Sombra needs bobs in my turquoise aura while I stare at the gleaming metal levers. My ears may be pricked forward, but I'm not paying much attention to anything he said, only unraveling the thread when he prompted me to before Sombra's attention returned to the latest tear - one I had accidentally made.

I bit my lip slightly, finding myself fixating on the navigation system more with each passing second as the decision that had yet to be made weighed down on me. For Sombra to be purged of the plague of light magic within him and be restored physically, he would have to possess me, something that could be nothing short of a harrowing intrusion into my mind. And if I didn't, Sombra would remain injured and further hinder any progress that could be made, leading the both of us to possibly be hurt by something that went wrong. I couldn't possibly imagine how personally horrid such a decision would lead to Sombra's emotional health deteriorating. He'll do almost anything for me, knowing it will make him happy to see me happy. Yet, even though his happiness matters just as much to me I can't will myself to help him.

I waited to hear a sigh from myself, a deep, heavy breath that was there and then gone but it was too much of a burden to release.

Why does he love somepony who would show such reluctance in helping him? There's endless parables about love being something that is earned, but I can't see what I've done for Sombra that would have inspired him so much that he would seek me out like this and feel so fiercely protective towards me.

"Luna?"

I mumble a few syllables of nothing coherent without opening my mouth. Bravo, Luna. He's sure to continue thinking of you highly now.

"Come sit next to me."

Glad to not have a simple choice blown into some grand exaggeration for my burdened mind to fret over, I walk over to Sombra and swiftly arrange myself so it looks as if I had been sitting next Sombra, my head resting against his withers with my wings lying about me limp and dejected for hours. A dull frown dominates my features.

"Do I get three guesses to what's bothering you?"

The teasing tone of his voice still bears obvious hints of his ever-present arrogance. I scoot as close to him as possible at the sound of his voice.

"Do you hate anything about me?" It's a relief to hear my own voice again after not saying much to Sombra since last evening.

"An example of 'anything', if you will?"

"I'm not..." Arrogant? No, that is certainly not the word I'm looking for. Shy? Definitely not. "...as confident and sure as you are. Does that bother you?"

"It would only bother me if you didn't let me help you and you let bleed into every aspect of your life, so every petty concern was dominated by unreasonable fears."

"Am I like that to you?" At least I don't have to ask Sombra to be honest or to tell me that I'm worrying too much and I just need to relax like Celestia. She means so well. I know she does, but hearing those words first makes everything feel worse. Sombra is serious in his approach to every trivial thing I've been worrying about.

"Not at all."

I wonder, what is it that has had led him to such a conclusion that he sounds so sure right now?

"It does not feel like we're equals, Sombra."

There. I have said it; the single thought that has been sabotaging my thoughts since yesterday.

"Of course you would say that," Sombra replies instantly, as flippant as ever and the peculiar amusement he finds in situations that even I can look over show through, undisguised by anything that isn't genuine, a weak pleasantry, or reassurance that feels anything but reassuring to me. It's something so utterly unique to Sombra, and while I cannot declare that I love him, I love that trait of his.

"And why is it that you say that?"

"Sometimes you forget how much you should matter to yourself," he says simply, never once looking away from his sewing. "It's much like you forget you're here, and your own wants."

It takes a moment to blink and realize what he has said. I certainly hadn't counted on it being anything that I felt the need to ponder for more than a few moments, but this was something I'd need to mull, luckily I had the morning and an eternity to do so.

I wrap my hooves around Sombra in a long, lazy embrace while still being considerate of his work. Neither of us say anything, and he leans down to nuzzle me from where I lay slumped against his side. My muzzle crinkles as a few locks of his mane - which I have the urge to hoof-comb due to it being tousled from sleep - brush my face before he returns to mending the cloak's hem.

For once in a long while, I feel closer to gaining confidence, with help from a somepony I never could have imagined, and I'm loving every minute of it.

Maybe it won't take until the afternoon to make up my mind.



...



Sombra grinned smugly, the creeping smirk on the left side of his mouth growing as he lay out his winning hoof of cards, newly mended cloak shifting on his withers as he tossed them down, and both of us sat there, watching them fall. He flipped over the cards that did not land facing up and noted my expression with increased amusement. His grin was strangely feral and eyes gleaming with a mischief I rarely saw dominating his looks.

"Aren't there only supposed to be four aces, Sombra?"

"If you follow the rules," he answered with a shrug and another flash of that cocky smile before gathering up his winning hoof once more.

"You cheated."

"I cheated again," he corrects.

I start to gather up the playing cards lying between us. When he mentioned that he kept a deck, I had agreed eagerly to learn how to play the games he knew. After fetching the deck for him, we had spent the last few hours of the morning playing friendly games of cards with one another - most of which he had won, but I wasn't one to complain over games that I placed no ambition in. It gave me time to think, and I liked seeing him happy.

"Luna," Sombra says, tapping me lightly on the wither with his left forehoof.

I look up, meeting his eyes and taking a deep breath as I clutch the cards to my chest before dropping the magic-bound deck back into his awaiting forehoof.

Sombra's expression sinks back into stoic contemplation, though his eyes and mouth betray concern. "It's high noon, Luna."

"I know," I say, nodding and keeping my voice steady, watching as Sombra - who had been sitting against the railing - tilt his head back to look at the sky, where the sun had climbed to its peak.

"Have you made up your mind?"

"Yes," I reply, my lack of hesitation in answering only startling him. Sombra almost dropped his deck of cards overboard and into the ocean, but was able to save the little bundle just in time with a quick blast of magic that returned it to his pocket dimension.

"And? I have no intention to pressure you but-"

"Will it hurt?" 

Did I truly sound so piteous to cause Sombra such visible distress? He looks at me as if I told him Cadance had died - something I imagine would trouble him greatly, seeing as she's his only dear friend.

"It won't be like that," he says, swallowing, "it won't be the same thing that happened to Purple Eyesore. I'm not going to hurt you, at least not on purpose."

"Could we potentially prevent any accidents?" I meet Sombra's gaze, steadily holding his stare. "Or would such actions hurt you?"

"You shouldn't worry about anything hurting me - and no, it wouldn't." Sombra gestures for me to help him stand and I don't hesitate to lend him a hoof and pull him up into an embrace.

"You will not read my thoughts, will you? I know your magic gives access to the minds of ponies-"

"No," Sombra says, tone as blunt as can be as he returns the gesture. "Even if you wanted me to retrieve of view one of your memories, I wouldn't be comfortable with it. And I promise that I'm not going to hurt you, but can you promise me something?"

When I nodded, Sombra ceased the embrace and held me away from him, making his gaze as direct as possible. "Don't relax. Your senses will relax as well, and I'm going to trust you to be able to establish any kind of barrier around what you want to from withhold me, since this is your mind."

I nod again, tensing up where his left forehoof held me as best as he could. "I definitely can't have you like this-" he taps me lightly "-either, because then the both of us risk getting hurt. I'm going to be draining your magic, which might leave you feeling dizzy and weak for a while. I'm not going to be looking through your mind, but I will need you to be able to communicate with me and allow me to at least speak in your mind. Can you agree to this?"

I was able to dismiss most all my worries with a deep breath. Sombra knew what he was doing and wouldn't allow harm to befall me. I placed great trust in Sombra.

Trust in Sombra.

"I agree," and after a thoughtful pause, I added "Do you need to tell me anything else?"

Sombra looked to the side once and then back at me, as direct as always, with an obvious intent behind his gaze. He looked as if he were anticipating something he had waited a long while for in telling me what he was about to speak.

"There were some memories of mine I needed to show you."

Memories of his? But weren't all of his memories usually rather ghastly? 

Sombra notes my expression and flicks a lock of his mane aside with his magic. "These aren't anything that should disturb you in the slightest. I did say that you needed to see them, didn't I?"

"What are they of? Are they of your time in the castle?"

"No; they're of when I was sealed away."

I take a moment to look up at the sky, wondering what memory that he'd ever want share could contain, only to see him give me a small half-smile that looks almost wistful.

"They're about how I fell in love with you."

Unable to think of what to say with my breath caught in my throat, I just stare at Sombra, stunned that he would ever share something that must mean so much to him in this way.

"And why," he adds, giving one last smirk - this one with an oddly reassuring and enigmatic quality - before dissolving into shadow as soon as he sees my final nod of agreement.



...



There's a maddening dysphoria in no longer having a body or world to take shape in for all who lack more than one form. Sombra had always known what if felt like to dissolve into shadow.

It was better that way. The anger he felt now was a savage and all-consuming force that sharpened what senses still worked and etched every memory with the deadliest precision. Nothing would be forgotten for a long while. Later, he would ensure that nothing would escape his memory even if he wanted it to.

But for now, rage shook a realm with no boundary.

He was alive, at least.

And alone. That something that had always been a desire of his, an impossibility when the crown and another's dark wishes had dictated his life as much as the clinking of chains had governed the existence of crystal ponies. Now all of those things were gone, something that he would appreciate in time, when rage subsided and the silence after this storm tempered with his nature, and his ambitions were softened for much needed self-examination.

There would be plenty of time for that.

In time, there would be plenty of time for anything for somepony like him who had known only limitations and bitterness.

That would wait a long while. For one hundred years there would be nothing but the most brutal fury unleashed in a place where nothing could appear and time wore on in the darkness. His mind traveled forward with it, a world he could no longer see continuing to be outside the void where only the cold of ice seeped in and chilled him. Something far colder than ice would try to seep into his very mind and break it. Instead, he broke this otherworldly chill, defying it as he had defied everything else he had ever known.

When the horror of his fiercest and longest bout of temper - an anger that then was indescribable and almost eldritch in it's near infinite intensity - was able to be shaped into something else, his mind snapped to the task. 

From nothing but the magic he was left with in this god-sealed prison made just for him, he wielded both his genius and his rage until his ambition-driven magic had forged the only thing he would need to remember everything...



...



I rubbed my eyes, trying to see if my vision, now veiled in scarlet would clear. The same smoke of Sombra's godly power now lingered in my own eyes, and in the reflection of one of yesterday's puddles I could see my eyes reverted to their nocturnal appearance, though all else around me looked blurry and bright.

Luna? How are you feeling?

I almost choke on my next breath as Sombra's voice echos in my mind and my awareness of his presence bursts into being. I shudder at and a prickling feeling down my back - one I can't control - follows, like a snake slithering upon my back.

Or within me-

Luna, it's just me. Relax a little, alright? I'm controlling your nervous system right now, and will start draining your magic shortly now that I'm sure I won't hurt you. Can you sit down and talk to me? I don't want you to be too uncomfortable for this-

"You told me if I tense up it will cause me harm."

It's mostly because I don't like seeing you upset, but yes, that too.

I sit down stiffly, as if a rod were tied to my spine, unsure if I should fold my wings before I twitch suddenly and my left wing springs out from my sides.

So that controls your wing...

I bite my lip hard, whimpering as Sombra reels my wing back in, creeping horror spreading through every part of me as I try to bury all panic even though somepony is controlling me...

Luna, I'm here. It was just a mistake, okay? I'm not going to hurt my Princess Charming.

As soon as I giggle - however suffocated, mirthless, and nervous it may be - the cold lessens and drifts to my lower back.

"H-How did you manage to remember everything?" I manage to eek out, voice going up and down at random syllables so my whole question sounds... crooked. Next, my wings fall slack at my sides and I almost fall over from a sudden weariness that steadies itself in the next moment. The cold feeling spreads throughout me until it feels evenly distributed, but no less terrifying.

You know what qualitative and quantitative data are, don't you?

I think I can almost feel Sombra register my nod, and that frightens me.

I simply made a system of spells - an archive, if you will - to translate what my memories were into the latter as many times as needed so they could be copied, stored, and encoded or decoded as many times I need. It took about ten years to perfect, but I managed. Would you like me to show you the next memory now? I don't think you'll enjoy being aware of every movement I make.

I nod again, dumbfounded at such talent in a mortal, and everything around me slips into red before vanishing once again...



...



Out of everything to focus on, one face was clearer than anything else. It was the face of a blue-coated goddess. She had beaten him and brought everything down with a single move. It was she he wanted nothing to do with - she was the younger one, the shadow of her sister.

The other princess.

Nothing she should do mattered.

And then she had done something that did.

He hated her for it and despised her with every fibre of his being. Luna - he would never forget the name of his greatest enemy - had somehow sneaked past his notice. How? He had seen her before him in their fight she always seemed to look away and spoke little.

She was weak. Unremarkable. Submissive. Stupid.

Utterly worthless.

This mare would never amount to anything and was a waste of the power she was born with. The mere thought of her ignited the feeling of fire through his mind.

She couldn't escape his focus any longer. After all, she was what had been overlooked before. Now, she would become his focus. Everything else was just another card to gamble away: as dull and predictable as possible. It didn't matter what these factors and mortal identities did, they could be beaten and broken. But, she was different: a challenge disguised as a compliant immortal. He couldn't account for her actions, and to say that troubled him would be the second-greatest understatement in history.

Sombra - for now, there was no title forced in front of his name that was now returned to him - would devote all mental energy not spent operating ethereal switches and functions to keep his memories of the past, present, and future intact on figuring out the perfect demise for Luna.

With enough time, he would be able to engineer the perfect torment for an immortal goddess and humiliate her with the burden of her own defeat. There would be nothing that could prevent him from this. Nopony was present to challenge him, the time he would spend here was bound to exceed that of any mortal equine's life, and no day or night hindered him here. Time could be unlimited here, for all he knew.

The same burning intent that was almost identical to his hatred for the twisted crystal pony colt that had brought him into this world would only urge him onward.

So began the first hundred years of unrelenting anger that outlasted any mortal fire as the cold wore on. 

As always, Sombra endured.



...



No matter how weak or capable one's enemies could be, Sombra treated each of his foes as just another face, for that was what they were until they made themselves stand apart as they acted upon the urge to make some futile attempt against him.

All attempts had been futile, until she made hers. 

The world was his enemy, and Sombra had always known this. From the moment he had been created, the young demon knew that his nature alone - regardless of his deeds and too-different mind - would earn him foes that reached numbers few would bother to count.

Know your enemy. It was only then that moves could be made against them, and the table they were so foolish to rest their hooves upon could be turned right under their muzzles. Then, every measure taken against them so nothing but hope remained within their grasp. That too, could break. He had seen it.

He had felt it.

Now, here he was having to know an enemy that could be fought with all the time to keep his mind intact and only improve himself in this situation. How could a goddess be so foolish to ensure her actions would risk something like this?

If there was one thing unknown to Sombra, it was the unattainable satisfaction of true revenge - a deprivation he despised so. Yet, if they were to meet again he could exact all the revenge he wanted against this deathless, cowering goddess. He told himself he would love that - and really, he would. Sombra would finally get a chance to hurt somepony that had thought she could get away with hurting him.

Luna was the most weak, unintelligent, compliant, submissive, and obnoxious creature that he had encountered, and he hated her.

However, to create the best way to torment her in order to push her past the breaking point 'till nopony could repair her, Sombra had to know Luna. The only way to do that would be to examine every memory he had of her hundreds of times over and deconstructing every facet of her behavior to map out the way she thought so she could be outsmarted.

For one hundred years, Luna would be his insane obsession.



...



There were lifetimes of information for somepony like Sombra, whose hypervigilant mind examined the goddess-princess, former apprentice Selene, and shadow of the sun in all her forms. She was a warrior, her skill in weaponry subdued and hidden to those who didn't scrutinize her every move before realizing one of them would be their last. Under her blue forelock her wide eyes that hid all the wonder she clung onto with a desperation to survive that seemed so savagely mortal and familiar in the latent desire to transcend her situation. 

He observed a perception that could be caught in fleeting, sideways glances that appeared to predict just when those that surrounded her and falsely named her a peer would look away and catch only the smallest pieces of her unwavering, solemn gaze. With that eye for detail that allowed her to notice the smallest things and hear a hundred words unsaid in every silence she could make her supposedly meek demeanor appear completely honest and without effort.

Her honesty was another thing that struck him as odd - how she protested, sometimes silently, how she could never seem to find it in her to tell the smallest fib at the risk of an unnatural silence. She was unnatural - how had he missed such chilling skills of observation? Each hit in battle she landed was carefully calculated but equally furious in delivery.

Her power - in fragments he recalled the flurry of power that only a demon like him could sense and how it had clung to her, fitting  her like a tailored cloak and matching her every movement and swirling with each bout of strong emotion that overtook her in their battle, invigorating her. He had thought that the power that she had been born into and twisted and fostered into something so befitting of her nature was wasted, though she was by far the most powerful creature he had met. That sense of power - and every ounce of hidden, measured strength - wasn't abused or squandered in order to exaggerate her nature and highlight her as goddess. For somepony who lacked the maliciousness and cruel cunning that Sombra had, she was remarkably good at accepting her feared power and dominating the magic that she radiated so her actions spoke.

This element that made her so unapproachable - this threatening, alien aspect of her - had piqued his interest. It would make her all the more interesting to fight, knowing she was more capable than she appeared. Sombra found this quality to her... addicting? No, that was not right. Luna - his enemy - had an odd allure to her and well-harnessed power with the intelligence to manage it? That feature alone was worth immense amounts of focus.

Sombra never thought to deny how magnetic it was - a proper rival had certainly be something he hadn't expected. Nor had he expected this horribly clever mare's looks to speak for her when she opted for silence upon re-evaluation.

There was something so obvious about the way she had looked at him in battle - those direct and vaguely bewildered looks in her wonderstruck eyes.

They had never met before. Though she lingered in many of Onyx's memories, Sombra had never given her much thought other than to acknowledge that she was one of the last Alicorns. And she had looked at him with an unmistakable recognition mixed with fear that haunted him. It was...

...heart-wrenching? 

The void had stirred at this with Sombra's discontent over the choice. It wasn't a proper term to describe his enemy, but it was what he thought fit best. That was all that had mattered. Somepony sympathetic to Luna would find the looks she gave him - how troubled she was with every lasting moment they had looked at the other - to be heart-wrenching.

Any mention of a heart caused further disturbances in Sombra's presence as he recalled her winning move: the kiss that had confused him so much in its aftermath. Every time he recalled the event, it was with the sourness at knowing she was his enemy and how disgusted he was that somepony he dreaded had gotten that close to him with a mere twist-

Well, he did admit she was clever at the very least. Though his hatred for her burned on, ever brighter the longer he obsessed over this mare, the knowledge that she was intelligent enough to stand against him - or just intelligent in general, really - was pleasing. Sombra would know what pleasing feels like. Every act of retaliation against the mind that tried to bind his fate had been pleasing, but with a more vicious feeling to it.

This was like a pause - a single moment of contentment - before his tempest of vindictive desire resumed and browsed each instance of Luna all over again.

Luna was a typical target of many of Onyx's cruelties. In his life the young colt had pursued her and stalked - for there was no intelligence in his desire to seek Luna out - the mare when she was far younger in her forays into the dense wooded area surrounding the tower Starswirl lived in.

For a creature so eye-catching and out of place in Crystalline castles and cobblestone towers, she didn't look completely hideous in that forest as Sombra would have thought of any other pony.

It was the moments like this - when Luna was free of woe, distress, and her many anxieties that troubled her in each memory, both Onyx's and Sombra's - that Sombra liked to observe her most. He found her most curious when she wasn't alarmed or trying to hide how extreme her emotions were that he could stop to watch Luna when she wasn't falling apart.

He never asked himself why, his focus always resumed soon enough but once or twice he found himself thinking about how her mane looked like the night sky when he met Luna for the first and only time. It was an obvious comparison to make, but he liked it. Anything to remind him of the sight of the stars - the only thing he missed - was always appreciated.



...



The longer he fixated on her, the more his focus steered elsewhere. He studied the memories of Luna meticulously and continued to assert she was his enemy - a statement he never doubted - before he stopped making such useless reminders all together, and became even more absorbed in studying what visions of Luna he had constantly, since there was little to distract him.

Small antics of hers never ceased to spark some feeling of amusement in him: the way she tilted her head when pondering something, how she looked when her surroundings seemed to dissolve before her whenever she was engrossed in a book of verse, the colder stare she had in battle, and the way she communicated to much with so little noise. He had always had a twisted appreciation for the last trait in his eternal selfishness.

Even if her loyalty to her sister was misplaced to him it was plain that she was a creature who, despite all her devotion and hidden passions wasn't as naturally inclined to such somberness as it seemed. Something was missing, and it didn't take long for Sombra to realize that he had never seen a memory where Luna smiled.



...



What Sombra found to be the most troubling about Luna, who he never called anything but her name, was that she wasn't stupid or commonplace.

Once he picked her out of a crowd or any other setting, it was impossible to forget the impression she made. No matter how much she tried to disappear or hide she only stood out more and more to him, even in memories he had viewed thousands of times.

She could see things that others never acknowledged.

She saw him.

She didn't see the King - and if she had, she saw past him.

She saw Sombra, and no matter how strange they were to one another she had always looked at Sombra like she had known him, like that had made it hurt so much to see him when they fought. Luna hadn't just suspected him of being somepony else - he had seen that too. She was able to see Sombra himself no matter how much he had tried to drown in the darkness and grudgingly accept that castle as his tomb,so as long as he died by his own terms. Everything about that was beautiful, but there was also something deeply horrifying too. The moment she kissed him felt like the invisible, imaginary gears in a clockwork world that only they defied had clicked.

The moment Sombra knew what everything he had put aside and all the reactions he overlooked amounted to, he thought that he could feel them click again, louder than before as he looked over that memory yet again. He felt the surge of cold that only he was sure he could withstand as he thought about Luna, the mare with the brilliant mind who had beat him. 

Luna, with the greatest power he had ever witnessed.

Luna, who he couldn't control - and even if he wanted to he would feel something he hadn't before: guilt.

Luna, for whom he felt sorry for ever hurting.

She who was like nopony else, who held her own.

She had done the impossible: Luna had proved him wrong.

As one hundred years ran out and the gears of the world clicked again, Sombra felt them whether they were his imagination or not. He felt the cold sense of dread and dawning realization of what he had never imagined as everything fell into place within his mind.

He did know his enemy, far better than he ever thought he would.

Sombra knew that he loved her, and that knowledge felt like whiplash. He wanted to tear apart and desperately try to deny this conclusion because he simply couldn't believe it. Right then, Sombra was convinced that he had hurt more than anything he had ever known in his life could. He knew that it was right, and all denial would fall apart before he could even work on establishing anything that might counter this. Whatever this was - this feeling so like hatred, except for its core - was the strangest thing he had ever felt. 

And he was scared, or maybe excited. Anything beyond anxiousness he was uncertain of. 

Maybe this wouldn't be as gods-awful as he anticipated it would be. After all, this is why he couldn't conjure up even half a plan to hurt this mare who was so beautiful when she stood alone.

Then, such a feeling was indescribable, but he didn't want anypony to take this away from even if he let them. Or, if there was somepony to try in the first place.

All this felt like drawing out poison. There was so much he wanted to know: what her smile looked like, what she thought about anything and everything, if she had seen all of the known world, if she would tell him about it, what their next meeting would be like...

The list went on and on as soon as he embraced this strange, addictive, and - in its own way - rebellious nature. Bit by bit, he could take his mind back ,and begin to overturn some of what had been done to him with something other than just sheer stubbornness and cunning. There was something else fueling him now. He would have to wait to see Luna - that was an ache he would need to bear - but for them it would be worth it. He had seen the ponies in the world - he had read about distant lands - but there was something unsatisfying about that now that that particular dream had been moved to second place, and a distant one at that.

He was the most selfish, arrogant, cunning, ruthless, thoughtful, ambitious and more. Absolutely nothing would get in his way to see the world, and in the end, her. There would be all the consequences he could imagine and even some he couldn't.

He was Sombra, the best the world had ever known and with the hope he never had before he would seek Luna, the brightest creature there ever was. So, the wait began. He remembered. He planned. He mourned. He burned with fury and everything else that he felt in droves.

And he hoped that wherever Luna was, she remembered him too.



...



This was the closest thing to freedom Sombra had ever known, and as tragic as that was to anypony else, Sombra only found this experience to be riveting. He was the center of the world, alone and not as restless as he had once been. While he certainly wasn't happy or even relived, he felt relatively unburdened and had accepted as much of the present and future here as possible, even if it dragged on time wasn't much of a bother to him. For once, Sombra's life wasn't agonizing. His mood wasn't nearly as volatile as it had once been. If he had cared to term it as anything it would be 'safe'. Like love, it was an entirely new experience and even if he preferred the former, safe wasn't a horrid thing to be - though it could be jarring. 

Sometimes, after a few decades meddling with magic systems and imagining anything that happened to cross his mind in a cold and unforgiving void of constant darkness, Sombra would be overtaken by long bouts of paranoia and hurriedly deconstruct his experiments. Ethereal constructions gleamed when his presence neared them and vanished faster than any mortal creature could blink as he waited for harm to come to him. On occasions like this he would have to shake his worst memories and the sensation of searing-hot magic tearing him apart. It was almost stunning when nothing hurt him. He could go back to rebuilding everything better than it had been before. 

His constructions made no sound, but nothing else did, or could. The only thing close to sound being memories of others and his own tone, twisted from his equine voice into the rumbling of his shadow form, even if he lacked that much substance here. Sombra was never bored, despite these conditions. He had never been one to get lonely, either. There were some things he missed and not being able to control these things angered him. He was not free from episodes of frustration that had devolved into anger. Like love, he embraced almost any emotion he felt.

Oftentimes he just longed to hear his own voice again. Or flip his mane the way that made Onyx seethe. Seeing colors again would be something he looked forward to.

He missed the sound of her voice, too. Sometimes he would be quieter than usual, and for months he replayed the only instances of he talking where she wasn't scared or mournful. There weren't very many of those but whenever Luna sounded sad, it hurt him more than he would ever let anypony know.

If he didn't already know the answer and he had somepony to ask, he would inquire to whether anypony cared about her.

Sombra certainly did.



...



I rubbed my eyes with a forehoof and forced myself to draw myself out of the rush of borrowed emotions that came from seeing the same darkness he did, and all he felt in it.

"Y-You loved me-" My voice fails and I've grown dizzier with each memory that he allows me access to. I grasp the rail of the Sky Scraper as tightly as possible, trying to never look down and keep my gaze on the horizon, but find myself unable to focus on much of anything. As a result of the possession, I shudder involuntarily every other minute.

-after exactly one hundred years, yes. I did keep track of the time when I was in there, or at least to the best of my ability. History books helped fill in some other parts.

"The day that you knew you loved me," I manage with a heavy swallow, "was the longest night Equestria has ever known."

There is no need for any elaboration. Sombra and I both know that nothing else needs to be said.

Sombra understands.

He really does love me. Not my title. Not my power. He loves all of me...

Luna, I think I have drained enough of your magic now. As soon as I leave, you're going to be feeling incredibly-

"No, not yet! I want to see more."

Luna, Sombra warns, if I stay much longer you could be hurt-

"Please, Sombra?"

I don't think it's a good idea.

I blink a few times until my vision clears and stare at the horizon, trying to think of a way to convince Sombra to let me see one more memory.

"I need to see these - you said so yourself."

You're going to get hurt. Can't you feel it? I don't want to do any damage to you. I don't want to be responsible for anything that would ever hurt you, Luna.

"How bad would just one more be?"

Luna, don't do this. I have no idea how exactly bad it would be because I've never done this before! I have the magic I need. Could we please finish this ordeal?

I traced patterns in the rail's smooth metal with my forehoof, urging my mind to focus.

Don't make me feel like a monster, Luna.

"Just one more memory? A short one, Sombra. If anything happens, I'll be the only one to blame."

I bit the inside of my cheek, partly because I was nervous to how he would react and because it was becoming harder to not fall back to the floor. Every second Sombra was silent made me worry even more.

Fine, Sombra eventually snapped.

"Sombra, if this is making you angry I'll reconsider-"

No. You made your choice, and you're going to get what you wanted - and any consequences that come with it.

"Sombra-"

Don't ever push me like this again. Not in this kind of situation.

I was too ashamed to reply, and the next time I closed my eyes, I got another look at a love story one thousand years in the making.



...



Sombra could withstand each passing year with increasing ease after his epiphany. As expected, he slipped in and out of periods of mania, depression, and other things he wouldn't dare name. Mostly, it was the lower moods - they were the most familiar to him. He knew that this was far better the alternative, or having had a normal mind in the first place. Had he been anywhere close to sane, his mind would have unraveled before him until only distorted instinct remained.

It had been centuries since he had ended up here, and he had fully embraced his feelings for Luna. His obsession had worn down to something else that wasn't as maniac in nature, something that felt much more thoughtful and caring, if he could describe it to anypony that had been there.

If he could divide how he spent his time into two absolutes it would be a rather neat divide between craving further isolation as he obsessed over future machinations, and thinking about Luna. Since he lacked any knowledge of what became of her after their one and only encounter, whenever he was at his lowest moods he found himself coming back to it time and time again. The thought of her was one of comfort.

He had already studied their confrontation tens of thousands of times. It was  familiar, nostalgic, and no matter how many times he looked at this memory he hadn't been able to figure out one thing: Why somepony as smart and well-versed in magic as Luna had failed to defeat him by exploiting the fact that he was - and still is - a mortal? In the aftermath of their kiss she could have easily taken her blade to him or forced him to help find her locate her elder sister and have them both smite him. Sombra was the most powerful mortal they had ever encountered - he was certain of that - but that didn't mean that Luna wasn't presented with more than enough opportunities to end his life, and ones that she would have seen.

Why didn't she? 

She wasn't incompetent as he had first thought, was more likely to break rules and entice any form of rebellion than her sister, and she was more likely to fight unconventionally or even use dubious tactics.

So why would he be here, where he was preserved instead of reduced to ash in the snow after a much more prolonged siege? There were plenty of times that could have been the outcome. Yet, her actions acted as the focal point where everything rippled out of control. Luna and her sister may not have been as skilled as they could have been for goddesses, but they were still just that, and they would not tire as easily as he would.

She had seen him - however briefly - in all his unstable rants and sudden displays of temper. How could she allow Sombra to have any chance of survival or any kind of preservation at all? Why would she not see that being sealed in a soul-chilling void where he couldn't physically age or be burdened with any physical needs at all was more of a mercy than a punishment, assuming he survived?

She had seen him! She could see past all the regalia that had been forced upon him and yet she couldn't calculate such a simple possibility? That was outrageous!

He wanted her to look at him now! He loved her! He was smarter! His temper had gone from monstrous violence to something much more like an abnormally angry stallion's. He wasn't as violent any longer. He had time to think about everything, to be better. He was the center of the world. He could barely sense Onyx anymore. Sombra had long since deduced that he was suffering the same fate Sombra himself was enjoying so much, for he had braved the cold and so much more.

When he got out - if he did at all - he was going to use the short amount of time he would have to live to tell her how sorry he was, and that he loved her. Maybe they could see the world before the effects of being in here took their toll. He could see the future, and maybe he would get to see her smile...

But he might not tell her at all... he knew that mare, and if she loved him back then he knew she of all immortals wouldn't be able to handle his death, unless he managed to avoid the clutches of Tartarus.

He'd find the Book again and give her any clue to what happened to the other gods. Maybe he'd get an answer as well.

None of this would be possible if it weren't for her mistake.

Except...

Except maybe it wasn't a mistake at all...

That thought - a second revelation - had more impact on him than falling down the entirety of the winding staircases he had made in the Crystal Empire.

Of course...

She couldn't have possibly known everything, but because of her...

Luna had saved him.

Luna, the mare he loved more than he loved himself, was his savior. Because of her the only destiny he had was his own. Even though he would be bound Onyx forever, the godly magic used to send them both here had weakened their ties, ever so slightly.

But by the very stars that dared mimic her mane...

His destiny was his now, if he had a 'destiny' at all.

This... This changed everything.

It was his and his alone and he could make it as grand or terrible as he wanted it to be. Any dream he ever had...

Just maybe, maybe it could be true now. Luna was the reason he was alive, and though his own guile may have aided him in weaving this fate, she was the one who had sealed it. For this, he loved her again. He now had freedom - or something like it.

She was trapped when she last saw him, and if she was still trapped when he found her, then he would return the favor and set her free as well. To the best of his ability, he'd help her find who she had been forgetting, who she needed most: herself.

Sombra didn't care if he could never be happy or truly free because he now had a life to make his own and a fight to win. He would wait and fight on. He would defy as Luna defied all his expectations. He would plan and he would continue to be always rebellious, no matter how big or small the challenges he faced would be.

And for the first time in a long, long while, Sombra wanted to live again.














"The world is a prison in which solitary confinement is preferable." --Karl Kraus



> Chapter 31: She Who Brings the Storm
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Sombra:


With a sigh, I closed the book I was reading and placed it on the nightstand in Luna's cabin, which I had been leaning against. It was impossible to miss her stirring when I could feel her magic gradually swell to the usual state it was in when she was awake. I was thankful that there wasn't any damage that had been done to her magic, but before I risked a sigh of relief I made sure to look to her blanket covered form. A dark blue wing rose from the sheets before sinking back again.

I looked away and Luna bolted up, rubbing her head through her flowing mane. I made no noise from my place, sitting on the floor with my back pressed against the nightstand and only my cloak to keep me from being bothered by the knobs of the drawers.

Luna spotted me quickly, as I expected.

"Sombra?"

I didn't look at her or give any sign that I had even heard her, though we both know that I did.

"What happened after...?" When she sees that I won't offer any kind of response, Luna doesn't finish and the cabin is quiet.

All I have to do is be a bit patient.

For her.

"Sombra, why aren't you-"

"There's no point in me replying."

I hear the rustling of blankets but still won't look at her.

"Why not?"

"You don't listen to me."

"Sombra-"

"Be quiet!"

I don't make any effort to apologize for snapping at her because I'm trying to not let her know exactly how angry I am with her actions. I still want her to talk because I needed an excuse to scream at somepony, since that's the only way I know that the stupid creatures can hear me.

I missed hearing her voice too.

I wish I could make up my mind, but sooner or later I'm simply going to-

"Sombra, please talk to me. You don't look well-"

"I don't look well?! Why is that suddenly important? It's not! For once in your life, can't you just worry about yourself and your own health, since you clearly won't be listening to me any longer, even if I were to scream in your face-"

"Could you at least look at me...?"

"NO! No, I won't! I told you because I cared, Luna. I've always cared, and then to show how much you cared, you disobeyed the only order I gave you - one that was meant to protect us both - and got hurt-"

"I don't feel hurt..." she mumbled, voice still confused and sleepy.

"OF COURSE YOU DON'T! I MADE SURE YOU WEREN'T HURT! I HEALED YOU AND THIS IS HOW YOU SHOW ME YOU'RE GRATEFUL - BY NOT LISTENING TO ME! BY MAKING ME WORRY! BY HURTING US BOTH AND TREATING ME LIKE EVERYPONY ELSE DOES!"

As soon as I'm done shouting at the wall, I hear Luna get up and feel her move to the space between the bed pushed against the left wall and make the few steps to walk the distance between the nightstand and the bed. She sits next to me. I can see her mane out of the corner of my eyes, but still refuse to grace her with any sign of attentiveness. It's clear from my posture that I'm not in the mood for any conversations, replies, or anything. Can't she see that I'm going to break something-

Luna slips her forehooves around my neck, loosely at first. I hold back my temper, somewhat puzzled but no less angry with her. She takes this as a sign that I won't snap and risks slowly bringing me closer to her, allowing more than enough time for me to have refused and left...

Through all this anger, part of me wonders what she's doing and lets her go on. 

Once I'm within her now-tightened embrace, Luna slips both wings around me and uses one of her forelegs - which are now lazily draped around me - to tap a spot on my back. I flinch slightly, my head turned a little closer to her. I feel Luna plant a few light kisses on my right cheek before using my right wither as a pillow, never saying anything. Once in a while she'll nuzzle my neck - unless I tense up, then she'll give me a much less bone-crushing, tackle-free version of one of her hugs. After a while, she busies herself by taking my right foreleg in her hooves and keeping only one wing around me.

I feel her tracing nondescript swirls in my newly regenerated coat with one of her forehooves, not paying any mind that I'm quietly accepting all this.

Finally, I look over to her and she looks upset as well - probably at my screaming.

"Good morning, Sombra," she murmurs and despite how ashamed she looks, Luna means it.

Though I'm still not in the best of moods, I pull her into a hug and rest my head on her withers again.

"Ten hours."

After a long pause, Luna finally understands what that number means. "That is how long I was out?"

I nod into her coat and she adjusts her wing so I feel like I'm draped in a blanket of feathers.

"Is there anything else you would like to say to me?"

My only answer is to draw her deeper into a hug, so her wing retreats as my hooves wrap around her.

"Will you actually listen to me?"

"I swear that I shall. It was wrong of me to disobey you after all you've done."

"I'm sorry, what was that?"

"Sombra, I'm quite sure you heard me-"

"No I didn't; I wasn't listening." I give Luna a nod to let her know that she can joke along for a short while. She picks up on what this means instantly.

"And here I thought that you liked me for my rebelliousness. Clearly, I was mistaken."

"Clearly," I mumble back, giving her a short kiss on her cheek. "Now, is there anything you wanted to tell me?"

Luna's stomach growls before she can speak.

I release Luna from the hug and give her a flat stare. "You want me to make you breakfast?"

"If you want to-"

"I'd certainly like a coffee, myself. I wouldn't mind making you something."

Luna looks at the floor. "Thank you, Sombra. I accept you offer but... Do you really think I'm confident and brave?"

"Without a doubt," I reply without hesitation, and when she looks unconvinced I go on. "Whenever things are bound to fail the most, you prevail. Every arguably - and most certainly pleasing - insane or unorthodox idea is some utterly brilliant gamble that even impresses me. It's when everything is going to fall apart that you stay together and-"

I pull her back into a hug and notice a faint 'eep' of surprise when she realizes that even though I may not being trying to crush her rib cage - which is what her hugs feel like half the time - I'm still strong in comparison.

"-that has always been something I've loved about you, and I think you should love it about yourself too."



...



In the middle of the deck, Luna adjusts some of the navigation system's levers while humming to herself. The late morning sky was covered by blankets of dull silver clouds, which I didn't care much about right now, although Luna certainly enjoyed them. I caught her casting various quick looks up at the sky. When she sees me silently walking toward her and levitating two plates of food, she gives me a private smile. I'm still not in the mood to return it, which she notes. Without a word between us, I sit down next to her.

Luna looks over at my coffee and a salad I had made by dumping a few things from the remaining items in the ship's enchanted ice-box together. When she appears slightly disturbed by the ruthless precision I use for spearing tomatoes with a fork I opt to just sip coffee instead.

"Are you in the mood to talk?" she asks quietly, as I wordlessly push her breakfast towards her with a forehoof. I couldn't find any plain bread for making her a sandwich so I had to settle for these odd circular pastries that looked something like honeycomb. Luna certainly didn't seem to mind.

"I suppose."

"Is there anything specific you want to talk about?"

I don't manage to eat more than half the salad I made for myself. 

I'll give the rest to Fish, I think before poofing the plate to my cabin and scooting closer to Luna.

"Re-evaluating our plans would be good."

"Very well," Luna replies, giving me a brief look of mischief when I can't help but lean my head against her again. Today just feels dull, even if there's plenty of clouds in the sky.

"Twilight Sparkle and Rarity will still be following us, Sombra."

"Mmm."

Luna rolls her eyes - playfully, of course - before wrapping her wing around me once more.

"Are you feeling well?"

"I'm bored," I mutter yawning.

"That's all? Then I shall go on: Rarity and Twilight won't know that they will be following us, but their course will be parallel to ours until we land in Germaneigh."

"Why are we going there?"

"To rest and get any supplies we might need, as well as-"

"Listen in to any news about our disappearances?"

"Yes. I was going to try to meet with Cadance and Shining Armor, who approach from the west as Twilight and Rarity did from the east. They have been given a town in Germaneigh - a coastal village, to be precise - to use as a meet-up point. I want us to stop there and gather any information we can and see if there's anything else we can do."

"Persuading her to be a double agent is my influence, through and through."

Luna laughed, and unlike yesterday she meant it this time. 

Laughing at my jokes - it's just another reason that I can't help but enjoy the time I spend around her, and it means more to me than she might realize. 

"Sombra," Luna begins hesitantly, "you also mentioned something about a book of dark magic - a book that you came from?"

"The Book."

"Yes, that is what you called it. I was wondering-"

"No. Absolutely not. There's no way I'm going to let you read it after what I've seen it do." I pull away, no longer in the mood to sit idly with Luna and hold her at a distance, my gaze boring into her own. "You didn't listen to me once, and now look where it got you. I can't trust you with the Book because if you don't listen to me then-"

"I don't want to read it, Sombra. I want it to be destroyed, and I think we can do it together, just not today." She looks down at the deck, appearing somewhat dejected.

"Why not?"

Luna takes a deep breath before resuming eye contact. "We aren't ourselves today and..."

I raise an eyebrow and give an impatient roll of my forehoof, motioning for her to continue.

"...There needs to be a storm. Rarity and Twilight are still out there and we need to buy time, or at least blow them off course a bit, no?"

I meet Luna's small, cute smirk with a flat stare. "You want artful destruction."

"Yes."

"And you presumably want me to participate, even if I know nothing of weather magic?"

"That would certainly be correct."

"What kind of storm are we talking? Do I need anything?"

"I was thinking a simple hurricane would do, and no, you don't need anything."

"I have some interesting things stored in my pocket-"

"Really? You didn't have much that I could see."

I smirk at her error. "Do you really think that I would settle for just one pocket realm?"

Luna gasps with excitement, but still repeats that I won't need anything. Still, there's one last question to ask.

"Luna, what's a hurricane?"



...



Luna's roaming gaze is unusually critical as she stands by the navigation system, watching the sky. With each passing moment she appears to fall further into her own thoughts as the light on her horn glows brighter. I stand across from Luna and watch her slip away, until I'm overcome by the urge to get her attention and call out her name. Immediately, her gaze clears and she looks at me, still keeping her horn lit.

"Yes, Sombra? Is something wrong?"

"Am I that dull that you can't allot me a moment of your attention?"

Luna smiles and pokes my cheek with her forehoof, laughing softly when I flinch slightly. "I simply must be careful with this spell. I do not wish to create too big of a storm or a hurricane with weak winds that shall not serve any purpose in aiding us."

"And there's nothing at all I can do?"

"There is one thing..."

I noted Luna's wry smile and responded with the smirk that had become automatic to use around her. "And that would be?"

Thunder rumbled in the distance and Luna's smile widened when she saw me turn my attention towards it. 

"Try not to fall off the ship."



...



Gusts of wind barely kept in control blew wildly about the Sky Scraper's deck, bringing onslaught after onslaught of rain as the ship was tossed about in the strong winds of the storm. My hood had blown off and only a quick jerk of my magic was able to ensure that it would stay on. Even if the fabric was already drenched, I wasn't going to be shivering and soaked to the bone by the wind and rain of the hurricane.

The deck was slick with rain and the skies were dark with clouds that swelled and swirled about like thick smoke dense with rain. Without my metal boots and their enchanted soles I had to grip the navigation system in my magic and always remain vigilant as the ship was tossed about with only me to steer it.

Wide-eyed, I watched the skies through numerous gales that bore more rain each time they battered the airship. Like the deck, my eyes and horn glowed with a coating of crimson aura, runes mixing with Luna's divine weather magic and the rain as I tried to focus on where I needed to move the wildly swinging ship next, levitating it when managing levers failed - something few spellcasters would attempt while they stood on a surface.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the dark, quick shape of Luna diving savagely among the raging clouds, some of which she had created herself. She plummeted down past the tumultuous layers of nature's less manageable variety of weather. Behind her, I could make out trails of millions of faint, weak sparks of white-hot magic. When she pulled up, wings extended and breaking past the shifting masses of water and ice crystals like they were less than wet paper. 

The sparks ignited in an instant and a wild web of lightning tore across the sky, clawing thunderclouds and creating such a commotion that my ears were left ringing once the spectacle was over and white flashes flickered to a stop, disappearing among the clouds.

Luna arced over to the side, running the tips of her feathers along the clouds' surface. Even from here I could see her smiling excitedly as torrents of rain hit her - she still flew on, undaunted. Stars twinkled faintly behind the clouds that dominated the sky.

Luna - as knowing as she was - caught me staring, and I knew that next few displays of lightning weren't required at all...

...But I loved them, nonetheless.

When she landed, her bare hooves hitting the deck and causing the puddles that were scattered across the surface, she was the one who truly looked like she was soaked to the bone. Patches of her coat were ruffled in the storm, water holding her fur at odd angles that made her sleek, silky coat look ridiculously fluffy. She hummed as she shook water out of her feathers, paying no mind to the violent swinging of the Sky Scraper - it might be part of her melody, at least in her mind - and while her mane still flowed, it too, bore signs of being weighed down by some water.

Luna smiled when she saw me, and I let the magic in my eyes dim slightly as she trotted over. Without warning, she planted a kiss on my muzzle; my ears still rung enough for the laughter of hers that followed to sound quieter than it actually was. I offered a thin, but earnest half-smile and returned the gesture and then let her push my damp hood back and fluff my mane so it could dry better in the lessening rain - we were in what she called 'the eye' of the storm now, where it was much calmer, but as soon as we hit rain again a spell to block a majority of the rain might be worth considering since both us will be needed on deck.

I snorted slightly, and rolled my eyes at her silliness - it wasn't unappreciated. Luna picked up on the latter gesture and stuck her tongue out at me briefly and caught a few raindrops. After that, I returned my attention to the navigation system and horizon until Luna promptly stuck her forehoof down the front of my cloak - earning a startled and semi-flustered reaction from me - to retrieve her necklace, which had been stowed in the small front interior pocket and returning it to its place around her neck.

Then, she started laughing softly, holding a hoof to her mouth.

"What's so funny?"

Luna tossed her mane and wrapped as much of my drenched cloak around her as I would let her.

"You, when you're like-" she gestures with a hoof to my fading blush "-this."

"Hmph. I don't think it was that funny."

Luna kisses my cheek lightly. "But I do."

I run a hoof through my mane when I manage to get a second when she isn't so fixated on me. It's definitely going to need a while to dry, I think with a frown.

"Is something wrong?"

"Luna... about yelling at you earlier this morning-"

"You shouldn't blame yourself, Sombra."

"It upset you."

"I am also upset when you're sad, but that does not mean you can never be sad, now does it?"

"Quit being so reasonable all the time, will you?"

Luna turns to me again and gives me the most utterly despicable pout of hers yet. "But you like it when I'm reasonable."

I try to stick my tongue out at her and make that 'bleh' noise she'll sometimes couple with it but only manage something like 'ehh'.

She laughs anyway. "You look like you tasted something dreadful."

"Your cooking?"

I feel a hoof give me one of those camaraderie punches she's so fond of. "Perhaps. But..."

I raise an eyebrow at the sudden seriousness in her tone at the word 'but'. "But what, Luna?"

"I understand why you were angry and why you yelled at me... it's because you care."

I frown. Slightly. "It was, that time," I mutter, gently nudging a wet lock of her mane behind her ear with my forehoof. "But not always. Do you think I care about Purple Pawn just because I yell at her?"

"No. It's just that..." She looks away and I note that the lock I had just repositioned falls into her face again.

"Luna? Are you alrigh-"

"I'm fine, really. Like I was saying, when you yelled at me, I knew you cared and that you were angry..."

I don't respond, giving Luna a level stare to offer some kind of encouragement, as cold as it may be.

"...It made me feel horrible to have somepony I care about like that screaming at me, and it almost reminded me of when we fought at the Empire's fall and..."

"You were scared of me," I mumble, and look down at the gleaming metal levers before me.

"Then, Sombra. I was then - but only a little, as many would have told me that I should have felt so many things toward you then. Even now, they would be things that I could never direct towards you."

"Like?"

Luna, as observant as ever, notes how quiet I sound.

"Hatred. Terror. Emotions like that."

"You were afraid of me, weren't you?"

"Mostly, I was afraid of how alike we were and of how angry you were. You hated me so much and we barely knew one another then, but you were also hurt."

"So then, what's your point?"

"Will you ever yell at me like that again? I don't want you tear yourself up over this, Sombra. It was a reminder and it disturbed me only because it reminded me of how little I used to know about you."

I don't want to say anything since hearing this explained to me - as much as I appreciate her insight - still hurts. It's a dull pain, but it's one I don't want to talk about. Instead, I pull Luna into a hug to shield her from the drizzling rain and whisper the only words that I'll speak for the rest of the night:

"I promise not to."
> Chapter 32: Waiting For the World to End
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Sombra:


It's been a long time since I've given the Book more than a passing glance. Why would I need to? Even I didn't possess a full understanding of it when I held it clutched to my chest in crimson aura, eyes warily trained on Luna.

Her mane was swept up in the cool early morning breeze and her eyes were fixed on me, her gaze was relaxed, yet solemn. I could still see her holding the plate with the sandwich with the ridiculously named bread I had used last time, though she had sent it away as soon as she had seen me. I nodded quickly to acknowledge her quiet thank you for making her breakfast even if I would have done it even if she hadn't asked.

She looks at the worn gray cover of the think volume that I grip tightly with a forehoof once I reach her.

For a few moments, we exchange no words and the mood is unusually tense. I swallow forcibly and back away when she steps closer. "Luna, don't."

She hangs her head and adjusts the position of her wings at her sides. I hear her give a heavy sigh before she's ready to meet my gaze again.

"Are you going to read it, Sombra?"

"We're aren't going to be able to read it." I grip the Book even tighter. The waves of magic coming from it right now make me feel queasy and on edge. Today's weather was calm and expected but the chilling effect of the Book's magic instilled a creeping feeling of something dire to come.

"How are we to use it if we cannot read it?"

When I feel the Book slipping from my grasp, I grab the cover roughly and promptly sit down on the deck, nodding for her to do the same.

Once Luna is settled nearby, the navigation system to her back she looks to me, silently waiting for me to go on and explain my plans.

"The Book is meant to trick whoever it snares with its power, as well as prevent those who hope to unravel its secrets from doing so. It can change how it presents its content and just how much it shows the reader. How corruption is delivered varies from pony to pony in order to do the job perfectly. While I can see past most of this and can't be corrupted by the Book, I'm not very good at navigating any of the contents it has since..."

Luna blinks. "Since what?"

"Since the Book's nature cannot manage to so much as come close to tempting me, I cannot get it to reveal much that would be of use to me when the experience that can be had with it is a personalized, ever-changing one. The core intention of corruption and the end goal of getting a demon are always there, but the exact method of operation will alter with each pony that reads it. Sometimes, it reveals itself to none at all - which is how Starswirl never noticed what it was in his possession. The most I've been able to decipher is a few pages out of what could only be thousands sealed into this one ever-shifting volume. The entire tome is not available to me because I'm not a reader, and because readers are not demons - a form of dark magic in one of its most powerful and elusive, just like the Book. The reader cannot be saved."

Luna lowered her head, tapping her chin with a forehoof. While her ears were pricked forward to catch my every word and listen to the sound made by my every gesture - something that certainly pleased me, knowing that what I did meant that much to her - her eyes were lost in deep thought as she considered various plans. I could see that her mouth was set in a grim line vaguely reminiscent of her adorable pout.

For the first time that morning, I allowed myself a more relaxed smirk instead of my own equally grim look and wondered what exactly she was thinking. 

She continued to ponder something, growing more lost in potential plans with each passing minute. As I waited, I cast a few quick glances at the sky. The faint feeling of something ominous in the atmosphere of the Sky Scraper hadn't gone away, but at least it had lessened. I found myself unable to focus on any plans of my own for long, and while none were bad, I couldn't see anything too satisfactory in them. I settled for sneaking glances at Luna instead, all the possible routes our decisions on how to handle the Book still lingering in my mind, the details coming to attention only for a moment, like something bobbing to the surface of  a pool of water before disappearing. I continue this until Luna finally speaks up.

"This will require the both of us?"

I consider her question as I run my hooves over the edges of some of the Book's pages. "Probably. Is there a particular reason you ask?"

"I think that I should be used as bait."

"Luna-"

"Sombra, I think that it is something worth trying. You know this book well enough and will be able to act as my guide on how to properly use it without being tricked. It is something you have learned to recognize from years of viewing it, no?"

"Yes..." I admit

"Then all we have to do is protect my mind, correct?"

"Correct, Luna," I say carefully.

"While that is advanced magic-" she moves her forehoof from her to me "-I think we can come up with something, wouldn't you agree?"

I give a heavy sigh. "If - and only if we go through with this course of action - you must swear to listen to everything I say. This is one instance when I absolutely cannot have you questioning me. Do you understand and agree to this?"

Luna nods gravely. "I do."

"Luna?"

"Yes?"

"There is no way in Tartarus I'm possessing you for this-"

"Sombra," she interrupts gently, though I'll forgive her for this, "what if it's the only way?"

I note that the sun is barely high in the sky. "We should have enough time to think of something else. I don't want to put either of us through that again - much less risk a full possession if something goes amiss - so that option will always be the last of last resorts in any situation from here on out, alright?"

Luna slowly makes her way over to where I sit after she adjusts a few levers on the navigation system and the Sky Scraper's direction shifts. A stray ray of sunlight catches the white moon on her necklace before she turns away and sits next to me.

"I understand, Sombra, and I do mean what I say when I promise to listen to you."

I pass the book to the forehoof opposite from Luna and allow her to move closer, where she begins to stoke my mane and hoof-comb it. I tense up at this, but allow her to continue.

"We're going to destroy the book that troubles you so much," Luna murmurs, "I promise that as well."

I nod quietly, swallowing again.

"We're going to destroy where I came from," I whisper hoarsely, tensing up even more when it suddenly becomes hard to breath and I feel cold and dizzy. Luna notes this and pulls me into a careful, but tight, embrace. She can no doubt hear my heart hammering in my chest. Instead of worrying I just feel her cheek brush mine as she hums in my ear.

"Have hope, Sombra," she whispers, "I will be right here with you."

I don't react; I just let her continue to hold me because the thought of destroying the last thing connected to where I came from - Onyx himself being the exception - is suddenly absolutely horrifying.

But she's right. She's here, and I like that. I love it. I don't want her to go, and I don't even need to tell her. She knows and she continues to sing wordless songs to me and she tells me I'm free.

I can't say I've ever been free before, but I know I've been free to choose things before...

...And I choose her. I want her to stay with me.

I want to stay with her.

I've never wanted that about anypony, only I wanted to be around myself. Alone.

Only I wanted me, but now she does, too... she's just sitting here singing to me and stroking my mane.

And I let her.



...



At the far end of the deck, Luna stood with her horn lit. A faint film of crimson aura could be seen in her eyes, which looked to me with something far softer than my unwavering looks. Her softer, unblinking, wide-eyed stare held a sense of determination and spunk that intrigued me. Though, it was hard to focus on anything but her eyes with turquoise magic glimmering in my eyes and obscuring almost everything else from view.

My own horn was lit and ready for the spell. Halfway between us the Book lies closed, its front cover face down.

Luna looks to me and I to her. A breeze wafts by.

What we're about to do is simple to the both of us. She needs to read the Book. I need to be able to pry into the Book before it can shift and see its true nature in order to access information about it and potentially destroy it. She needs to remain uncorrupted and have somepony help her properly utilize it. So, in order for her to read the Book, I have to read her mind.

When she gives the signal, both of us release the magic.



...



I sit up, steadying myself by gripping the ship's rail and using my other hoof to rub my temple now that I have a splitting headache. I let out something in between a deep breathe and a scoff.

"You think that because this isn't dark magic, I wouldn't feel like I have a bloody hangover," I mutter to myself, fixing my posture as much as I can manage in order to not feel like I'm about to fall over.

What was that?

I froze at the echo of Luna's voice in my mind. It's been a long time since I've felt this dreadful sensation, but the scars are always clearer than any would expect them to be. "How are things on your end?"

Sombra, what is it you speak? I cannot hear clearly you all the way over here 'on my end' when you mutter to yourself. This is most strange... it feels so invasive to be doing this to you and- oh my, you look tense do you need me to come over-

No, Luna. I just never wanted to be used to this.

Is it painful...?

Across the deck, I see a nervous-looking Luna bobbing her head in a faint nod in better detail now that my vision has cleared. She cradles her mane in her forehooves and runs one of them through it in a fidgety gesture of discomfort. Otherwise she looks okay, and I offer a nod to serve as a question of her welfare.

She nods in return, but slowly. She's taking this far better than I anticipated.

It's emotionally... I punctuate my thoughts with a heavy sigh, ...troubling, if that counts to you. So, could you try to keep your statements short and avoid tangents at all costs?

Yes, of course. Now what is it we are to do?

First, I tell her, pointing with a hoof to the Book, I need you to pick the Book up, but don't look at it yet. Look anywhere but the Book, and take care to avoid looking at the cover.

Luna nods and trots over to the center of the deck, her eyes trained on me the entire time.

I see you chose what to look at wisely, I tease.

You are certainly a sight to behold. I'd be lying if I said I didn't see Luna wink at me. She picks up the Book, as I told her to, and then looks at me for further directions.

Now, think about your some of your greatest desires. It has to be something that the Book can manipulate, so something like Onyx's lust for power would work, as would a lust for material wealth or bloodlust.

But-

I brush a lock of my mane out of my face. I'm fully aware that you aren't anything like that, but those were just examples. Sincere love and a lack of desperation won't work on this thing. You also can't be too selfish and self-driven or it won't show itself to you. The less aware of yourself you are - or you let yourself become - the more it wants you. If you place too must trust in others or care too freely, it can work with that as well.

There was a long pause between us, disturbed only by the wind.

Keep that in mind, Luna.

I shall. May I look at the cover now?

You can.

Wait, Luna starts, I want to know what it said when Onyx... She doesn't continue. We both know what she was going to ask.

It said 'Everything You Ever Wanted'. He believed it, of course.

Luna remains composed as she offers one last nod and sees the Book's cover for the first time. Instantly, her eyes widen and I can see a dull flicker of dark aura, with colors too muted for me to make out beyond that, begin to burn in her irises. I lean against the rail of the ship, digging my wither into the metal to keep myself from rushing over to her at the sight. We can control this, I know we can. Even though I feel a ripple or darkness from her mind echo into my mine, I won't let it spread.

Sombra...

What does it say, Luna?

As her ears prick to register the 'sound' of my voice that isn't there and 'hear' her name, I feel the echo of the Book retreat.

It says 'The Truth'...

Open it!

And as soon as she does my horn is consumed with dark aura. Luna's eyes succumb to my magic as we planned, so it looks as if she has been possessed by the magic I have partially transferred between us so she can play the dual role I need her to: that of somepony already corrupted by dark magic. She plays a perfect victim, and my extra set of eyes in reading the Book and seeing what I can only glimpse through the lens of darkness I have given her.

There's a map, Sombra, and it's moving... Her expression is of something between dark intrigue and bewilderment.

I narrow my eyes and tap the railing with my hoof. If I go near her, the Book might be able to sense me if I'm too close to her. After all, it was able to tell when others were near Onyx and change what it displayed so the same thing would not be shown to anypony who peered over to check if he was reading anything interesting. Does it say what it's a map of? Can you describe how it's moving?

Luna lights her horn with dark aura, something she is woefully unfamiliar with. I can see a flash of something like doubt on her face, but she manages to cast her half of the spell successfully and my vision alters. I blink at the sudden change so I can see what she is shown by the wretched volume, except there's a few minor differences I see.

While she sees a large map spread between two pages and no real key to go with it, I see the runes of Everything floating across the page changing from simple Equish words and translations, to another pony language I don't recognize, and back to eldritch runes again. I also see a header in the corner of the page, as if I were reading something that were a modern, organized volume instead of this - a map that mimicked one drawn in ink, but was too perfect for any mortal to have made with flaws and other effects too tailored in appearance to be anything but intentional.

I blinked in surprise from my place on the Sky Scraper's deck at the unchanging header:

A Humble Collection of Spellcraft, it read, mocking none in particular. The poor joke was not what interested me. It was what came after: 

Umbra.

A name.

A name that sounded rather familiar...

I bit the inside of my cheek to stop my quickening breathing, but only drew a bit of blood. I swallowed in horror at the taste and tried to regain my focus, wracking every corner of my mind I could for an answer....

Umbra. Umbra. Umbra.

Where had I heard that before?

Sombra..?

I nearly choked on my next breath at the sound of Luna's echo.

What is it?

Are you alright?

Not really, but I think I might have found something. Before I tell you, could you explain what you mean by the map 'moving'? It isn't doing that on my end.

I draw my hood against a particularly bright ray of sunlight and turn to look at Luna, whose expression is a mix of concern for me, deep sorrow, and a brooding cleverness as she gazed at the Book's pages. I try to flash her some kind of grimace to let her know I'm coping with this as best as I can, but sit quietly instead.

There are these small pictures, almost like a more tasteful version of stick ponies. They are walking about the castle, and various lines outlining paths in the halls. I cannot find any labels for them, but I have also noticed that the doors and windows will open and close, or parts of the castle will change, as if being built anew or repaired. What does it look like to you?

I return all concentration to the map that I see.

The castle is there, but it does not change. However, I have keys and labels. It says this is the Marecca Palace - at least that's what it's called in the Equish translations.

Luna cocks her head to the side, her eyes still fixed on examining her map. Is that script helping you - the one that only you see?

Yes, I nod. I remember reading that Marecca was the capital city Al Far'iimbra. I don't recall reading much about the country itself, or the inhabitants and culture. I do know that they were part of the Alicorn Empire, and that they had many universities, mathematicians, poets, and inventors come out of their country... like Princess Amira.

Luna gave a heaving sigh and furrowed her brow, casting a quick look at me before returning to the Book once more. Amira is a very old name that has survived from a time long before Saddle Arabia was established. I know of no place called Marecca or Al Far'iimbra ever existing; however, Al Far'iimbra almost sounds Arabian... but not quite. I do not think it would be unreasonable to say that this land of Al Far'iimbra is now present-day Saddle Arabia. Do you concur?

Absolutely. What about that name Amira mentioned? Hasad? Do you recognize it? It's clearly important and I think it might tie in with what I've discovered.

Hmm, did Amira not say he was an Alicorn and the younger brother of somepony named Elinora?

Yes, she did. We have an Alicorn prince of unknown age as our suspect. I also recall that Elinora was the queen of Al Far'iimbra and had many students. She was a special kind of pyromancer and was a patron of many inventors and great researchers - I don't really know much past those footnotes, really. But does 'Hasad' sound familiar to you?

Luna closed her eyes in thought, purple smoke still flickering around her eyes. Hasad? I know that when Arabian dignitaries came to Equestria a couple of years ago they left a letter of thanks to my sister and I for having them... I recall no mention of the name Hasad, but they spoke... they spoke it as a word. When I had Celestia translate the letter for me, since I did not recall modern Arabian well...

Her eyes fluttered open and she gasps. Envy! They said that they had been envious of our kindness - and oh, Sombra I know it! Hasad is a modern Arabian word that means envy!

We both stare at one another. Luna's eyes are wide with horror and my jaw is agape.

You do not think...

I think Hasad is more than just a suspect now, Luna. He's guilty of something, it's just a matter of figuring out what specifically he did...

...What is it that you found?

I fidget with the hem of my cloak. Another name. Umbra. Well, at least I think that it's a name...

Luna frowns. 'Umbra' is a Tribal-Era term. In the arcane language of the Unicorn Court's magic of that day and age-

Which was really just bastardized Old Arcane fallen to ruin, I interject and certainly feel quite pleased with myself when Luna smiles at my knowledge. I finally give Luna a sort of grimacing half-smile.

...it means 'darkness'. I do not know the exact origin, only that in came into use after the Collapse.

Both of our smiles vanish.

Do you think-

I don't think, I know.

As soon as I say this to Luna, we watch as both maps of the Marecca Palace are obliterated by a colossal wave of magic that is neither sketched nor real. The castle is blown to ash, runes flying everywhere and dissolving as the picture grows smaller with each moment of destruction, until it finally shrinks to a landscape sketch of a city...

...a great metropolis, a citadel of old that made Canterlot look like a hamlet in size be reduced to ashes in a blink...

...by a small sketchy-Alicorn in the sky...

...labelled 'Hasad' even though his horn is curved now...

...and that's all we can see before the no-longer-quite-an-Alicorn flies into the distance, leaving only dust in the wind where millions lived only a moment before.

Luna-

She gives a mute, horrorstruck nod. Tears fall past the dark magic in her eyes as she watches the oblivion. They roll down her cheeks in silence.

Hasad is Umbra.



...



The second map was the worst, not because it showed a dead place that neither of us would ever see but because the Book showed Luna and I a place we would be seeing very soon. I heard her gasp at the sight of the ungoldy structure drawn in thin, spidery lines of black ink. Instead of looking flat in the labeled projection that I viewed, there was a depth to them and I found that detail eerie...

By now I felt lightheaded at the sight, my forehoof gripping the rail so tightly it had begun to produce a dull pain that I couldn't ignore for much longer. Eldritch script proclaimed this place to be 'the Isle'.

I gulped. The entire spire - which drifting measurements labelled to be as long as ten ponies - was like a flagpole of äerint that rose from the ocean's waters... if flagpoles neared the height of mountains, that is...

When I re-examined the ocean around the äerint, I saw what looked to be a tiny scrap of land that had been speared by the crystalline spire like a javelin. What had Luna called islands this small? Rays? No - cays, they were called cays... and they were usually found in the Barren Sea, which was westward. That's where we were heading.

Still, I wondered what this place could be for - it was too unsubtle to remain disguised, wasn't it? Except that I had discovered that äerint was the crystallized dark aura and if that aura was bent or something was woven into either it or the island... well, then I suppose the Isle could be disguised...

But that still didn't answer my question. Why would the Isle be needed in the first place, since it acts as the smoke to the fire that would eventually be found? Umbra was the one who caused the Collapse and has been missing for three millennia. He couldn't have been hiding at the Isle itself the whole time. So why would so much magic need to be sitting there like that? In this drawing it almost looks like a seam of-

I'm jerked out of my reverie as soon as the answer becomes clear, and I turn to face Luna, who is still distraught from where she sits, staring at the same image on the Book's pages.

It's a seam, Luna! The Isle - that's what it's called, I'll fill you in on the rest later - acts as a gateway to something else and that must be where Umbra is!

She looks skeptical of my conclusion. How can you possibly be sure?

Only a demon would be able to manipulate the äerint.

True... 

I give her a wary look until she accepts my theory with a nod, and a fleeting, weak smile.

Luna... I start cautiously.

She instantly sees my nervous expression, even though magic clouds her vision. What is it, Sombra? Despite the sight of dark magic, she sounds gentle right now.

I don't think I'm ready to destroy it yet... or if it can be destroyed with normal means... or if we should do it here...

Would it be hazardous to keep it?

No, I've had it with me this entire time and it hasn't been a problem. It really can't do anything on its own.

She nods quietly and an ocean breeze blows by, stirring our manes. Whatever it is you are comfortable with. I'll return it to you once we stop this spell.

I let out a ragged breath. Thanks, Luna. For understanding all of this...

Of course. She flips the Book's cover closed and the maps of lost places vanish from our eyes and my attention is drawn elsewhere as I get a good long look at her smile.



...



Hours later when the stars gleam faintly in a clear, dark sky Luna and I are drawn together once again after quietly busying ourselves with solitude for the remainder of the day. We don't say anything to each other since neither of us are really in the mood for conversation. I don't need to tell her that I put the Book away. She doesn't need to tell me about the letter Mac sent her detailing our meetup point. The two of us sit side by side in silence, Luna looks at the stars and I look at her form in the dark and the glassy surface of the ocean sparkling below in the dark.

We'll be reaching Germaneigh in about a day and a half and while I'm used to being a wanted criminal, Luna won't be familiar with having to walk about in disguise and hear her name whispered on the streets followed by 'runaway princess'. It'll be said by ponies who know so little of her that they might as well be trying to sever her name and apply it to a caricature of some lost idol the populace has spent five minutes deciding on. Or maybe Germaniegh has yet to care about a runaway goddess who will walk among them without any to recognize her.

Next to me, Luna lets out a long sigh, re-folds her wings and continues to stare straight ahead at what's to come.

I prod her wither with a forehoof once to draw her attention to me. Is there something bothering you?

Luna grasps the unspoken meaning quickly and shakes her head, letting me know that she's doing well before placing a quick kiss on my cheek. She pulls away before I can return the gesture, a mischievous smile flashing in the dark when she sees me huff and roll my eyes at her antics. The both of us pretend to return to looking at the sea and the sky, but I'm the more careful about sneaking glances at her. Luna's occasional quiet giggles aren't helping her beat me at staying quiet. I manage to refrain from rolling my eyes again to prove that I can outlast her in this little game of ours.

The moment I turn away she starts to stroke my mane and doesn't stop even when I turn to shoot her a questioning look; in fact she scoots even closer to me and continues to fidget with looks of my mane in a wide-eyed state of fascination and laughing softly to herself from time to time. I allow her to and continue to watch with some confusion as she spontaneously braids small locks of my mane and then untwines the loose plaits.

For her sake, I start purring and she wraps me into crushing hug, only lessening her grip when I she hears me cough a couple of times. When she pulls away, I expect her to just give me another peck on the cheek before straying off to do something on her own. Instead she just turns me toward her, keeping her forehooves on my withers and looking at me and I'd be lying if I said she didn't look just a little bit apprehensive. I stop purring and I'm about to ask her what might be bothering her under her playful mood, but just as I'm about to, she leans forward...

...and starts kissing me, which makes it clear that absolutely nothing is wrong. I'm certainly not going to protest, even if I could, because at last there's nothing between us. So I just let everything else melt away - everything but us and the stars that continue to shine somewhere far away, as the Sky Scraper drifts toward Germaneigh, and all around us the night rages on.
> Chapter 33: Those Who Always Remain
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Luna:


The late dawn's light illuminates the thick layer of rolling white clouds that the Sky Scraper slowly drifts above the shores of the Germane village of Ponemünde. My coat was still damp from my morning flight and I had transformed my necklace into a light winter scarf, with a shade of green most pleasing to the eyes. Especially to Sombra, who appeared to quite like the color.

I landed with ease on the Sky Scraper's deck for what would likely be the last time for the few days we were likely to spend in Ponemünde resting and gathering information. Sombra was sitting on the deck, his back to the navigation system and his eyes knowing my steps before I had even taken them. A cup of coffee was grasped in his magic, no doubt almost empty. He had transformed his cloak into a long coat that managed to hide most of his unmarked flank. Two packed saddle bags were at his side, neither having any interesting patterns. I could see he had cut off the onyx-stone fasteners and sewed plain buttons in their place. A glass bottle with faint, glowing runes on its clean surface rested next to him. It was empty.

"What did you gather?"

"The docks are mostly empty," I replied, "we should have no trouble with any of the town's inhabitants if we dock now. While no land outside of Equestria celebrates Hearth's Warming, many Equestrian tourists appear to have made their way to this little village for a vacation spot. We'll blend right in once we complete our disguises."

Sombra nodded. "The idea of having to pass myself off as a pony who lacks any cultural appreciation, taste, or navigation skills isn't something I look forward to, but the extra lack of difficulty in blending in? It's almost a shame how easy it is to do this. Changelings can hardly get anywhere when there's spells to detect them, and yet ponies who don't want to be found can sometimes manage to slip into further obscurity than they."

Sombra's wry smile tells me that 'shame' part is far from true, and this is something he enjoys. "What is the extent of your ability to make disguises? I'll gladly lend a hoof where your ability might falter."

Reaching behind him, Sombra abruptly pulls the lever to stop the Sky Scraper's flight and leave it drifting in the air, as planned. He teleports his cup, now empty of coffee back to the ship's storage of dinnerware.

"I can't change features completely, but I can blur them and alter them a bit. Anything that is drastically different from a pony's existing features I can't make, though I can certainly pass as any number of non-existent individuals with the skill that I do have. I can change my voice with some skill even though nopony recognizes my voice anyway, so I usually don't. Changing colors isn't hard and I can conceal wings and horns - but I can't make them. It's not too hard to make a pony appear a bit shorter. I can't make ponies taller or their build much heavier - if needed I can round their build out to something else. That's about it."

I clapped my forehooves together with excitement and sat down next to him. "That is splendid, Sombra! With our skills combined, we'll be able to go unnoticed entirely. All we need to do is hide our flanks-"

"I could make us both fake marks," Sombra interjects, giving me an enigmatic look when he sees my baffled expression.

"How?"

"Dark magic allows me to create many fake marks for myself and never have one of my own. It won't have any power or meaning other than whatever you say it has. They also only last about a week before I need to recast the spell again so-" He ends his statement with a shrug.

I laughed. "What about your skill as an artist, hmm? Won't they turn out terrible if you lack the ability to design?"

"I don't need any artistic skill for it to work; I only need to be able to envision them clearly," Sombra says, rising from the deck's floor and walking over to the ship's rail. The empty bottle - it was really more of a jug, I suppose - floats in his magic's grasp and he looks out at the sea of clouds, where a town lies right below. He gives a heavy sigh and runs a hoof through his windswept mane, the metal buttons on the sleeve of his long coat shining in the morning sun's light.

"It's Hearth's Warming Eve." His voice was distant and troubled and now I knew that something must have been bothering him this morning. When I woke him up, I had simply mentioned the date and just like that he had spoken to me as little as possible. I didn't want to pry - he might just be thinking about something important - but now I knew otherwise...

"Is there something wrong with that?"

"For you, there most certainly is." Why isn't he looking at me?

"Sombra?" There - I saw his ears flick; I know he's aware of how concerned I am.

"I don't give a damn about your silly kingdom's birthday, Luna. This day has never had a meaning to me at all but... I know that ponies like to spend this day with their family-"

"They don't have to."

"If you're like me and you don't have a family, then yes. Or maybe your family is horrible. Or maybe you don't care. Luna, I know that despite what has happened between you and your sister, you still love her. I can't pretend to understand why. Yet on a day like today, even if it is only the eve before Hearth's Warming, I'm the last pony you would want to spend today and tomorrow with."

"That's-"

"You should be with your sister, not with me!" I can see Sombra's jaw set with a scowl even if his back is mostly turned to me. "You matter to me and she matters to you, and instead of spending this time with that mare, you've been stuck with me! You're stuck with me in an entirely different hemisphere and-"

I fly to Sombra's side before he can finish and wrap him in a warm hug. "Celestia will be fine without me, Sombra. There are many ponies who adore her and will be able to brighten her spirits without me. Seeing the moon rise and set each dusk and dawn should be enough consolation for her that I am not in poor condition. Had I lingered in Canterlot, I would have had a rather dreary holiday knowing that something could be done about the dire presence we have discovered and would still privately being trying to lift my poor spirits to no avail at all-"

"But Luna-"

"Shh, please just listen. What would have happened if I had stayed? I would be guilt-ridden and worried for a family I had made no attempt to seek, even when I finally had a chance! Worst of all... I would have never met you."

Sombra finally leans into the embrace. "I know you're not just saying that but... I still have to ask why? Why do I matter so much to you that you wouldn't long for Canterlot, where I'm sure you would be far happier?"

I tilt his muzzle up to meet mine in a kiss. "A long, long time ago there was a little filly who traveled the world with her lost sister in search of her parents. While her sister longed for them to be happy and reunited safe at the castle home they had left, the littlest filly came to learn with each wonder she saw that all the world was her home, the stars her roof. As long as that little filly could still see the stars she would always be home."

I pause to give Sombra a second kiss. He looks positively entranced by the tale I spin, nodding faintly for me to go on.

"When that little filly grew up she still sought the family that had been taken from her so they could see the mare that she and her sister had become. She still had hope that they could be found and she was joined by the most intelligent, brave, thoughtful pony she had ever met... a long while into their journey the young mare wrote to her niece about how much she loved every moment spent with this arrogant, endearing fellow and her niece wrote back about the holiday she would miss. That's when the young mare knew that she wanted to spend that day with her..."

My second, briefer pause was simply to think of what to properly call Sombra. 

"...beloved companion, and see his face when he got to spend that day with her too."

I conclude my tale by giving Sombra the third kiss he has always wanted and a smile meant only to reassure him, however lucid he looked, his attention was drawn elsewhere as he looked me straight in the eye.

"Really?"

I nod and watch him smirk - a splendid, arrogant smirk that tells me he shall be enjoying our time together as well. With that, he places the jug in my forehooves and gives me a brief kiss before standing on the Sky Scraper's rail. After another second, he leaps off, shifting to shadow at the last second. Once he's gone I grasp the jug tighter, enclose all of the ship in my magic, flare my wings, and follow him.



...



The streets of Ponemünde's center were bustling with the odd mix of usual residents and festively garbed tourists who trotted in groups among the warm, sunny town square. Most of the buildings would have looked at home in a more wintery setting, like the picturesque towns on many Hearth's Warming cards with their homely brick and stone buildings. A few ponies had strung up a humble amount of garlands between shops and placed a few wreaths or sprigs of holly in doors and windows.

Around us, ponies conversed in a variety of languages, most notably Germane and Equestrian, although a poor variety of Germane that no doubt was spoken by many tourists who came to view the more stately buildings of stone on their holiday retreats.

Next to me, Sombra snickered at their various errors. He hadn't altered any of his features, mostly since he wasn't very recognizable to anypony who didn't know him better but because he was also frustrated for me making him adopt a light colored mane of silvery hue that he had protested greatly, claiming it made him look far too old. I had eventually relented and let him adopt a light chestnut color for his mane, but he still detested the color. I do admit that he was more handsome with his dark mane and coat, but I wouldn't tell him that. His smirk - which had become a rather rare occurrence since we departed the Sky Scraper - was still noticeable against his white coat and he was still Sombra, which is what truly mattered to me.

And whether he was disguised or not, without any true alterations he was still quite a handsome stallion. Yes, he may have been the more recognizable of us - which was an exaggeration since light colors did wonders for that. He hadn't given up his horn, though it no longer looked like a demon's. His mark, however fake, was still something so completely Sombra: a dancing flame of some indeterminate blend of fantastic colors reminiscent of what we had seen on the beach of our battle together bent into the shape of a spade. But then again, who was to know that this was Sombra? He really was an enigma to all but me, I imagine, and even then he still had his moments of mystery.

But now, he walked along the cobbled streets of Ponemünde with a swishing trench coat and a glass jug, now filled with a suspended Sky Scraper shrunk beyond all recognition to anypony but us, peeking out of his saddle bags. Arrogant green eyes eyed the red apple he had lifted from an open air fruit stand. I had almost protested this, but we had no bits to pay for anything and it was just one apple. He was cutting it into slices as we walked away from the busiest parts of town, and with Fate turned into a rather elegant switchblade, no less. The blue-white pearl that was the pommel shone with a soft glow if I looked at it too carefully, signifying where he had skillfully attached his pocket realm this morning.

Sombra - or Fire Cracker, as he was to be called when other ponies were near - stopped for a moment and nudged me on the wither. I looked up to him - something I had to now that I was drastically shorter than him and he had refused to even create the illusion of shedding any of his height - and saw him offering me a slice of his late breakfast. I gratefully accepted with my hoof. I had neither horn nor wings in this disguise, since if Tia was to look over any records of ponies coming and going to places, she would start to look for suspicious unicorns first. When her and I needed disguises, I always preferred to stay a unicorn while Celestia opted to be a pegasus, loving flight far too much to give it up, on the other hoof, I quietly detested the light frames of being a pegasus and the sense of detachment from being a being of the sky.

My disguise was that of a thin, petite earth pony mare who was of the age I would be if I were mortal: nineteen. My dark blue coat was now a rather depth-less creamy gold-tan. I couldn't let my obvious love of rich colors be a silent giveaway to my sister. My mane and tail had to follow this rule as well, and I ended up making them pale sea green streaked with shades of a shade of blue so pale it was almost white. I paused to re-knot my scarf with a hoof and look at the mark that Sombra had given me: the swirling outline of nondescript leaves.

"What's my name going to be?" I whispered to Sombra after swallowing the apple slice. I had begun to reach for another, but Sombra smacked my hoof away and popped another slice into his mouth, chewing it thoughtfully.

"You can't think of anything?"

"No, unfortunately. The mark you gave me is rather vague."

"There's no time to redo it." Another slice of apple was granted no mercy from his fangs, however Sombra did pause and offer me another.

"Thank you," I mumbled before looking away from a tourist who wandered too close and only speaking again once the obviously lost mare had passed. "But I'm afraid to ask you for suggestions since-"

"Spearmint."

"What?"

"That's your name now."

"Pardon? Is that not a kind of chewing gum?"

"It's my favorite kind of chewing gum, to be precise."

Sombra looked at me triumphantly and I glared back. "Are you serious?"

Sombra answered by reaching into the saddle bag that was not cluttered with the Sky Scraper and pulled out a tawny and calico bundle of fur with a collar of purple, orange, and yellow in a scale-like pattern. He places the kitten on his head where the now soft-furred creature stares down at me with deep brown eyes.

"What do you think, Fish? Doesn't she look like a Spearmint to you?"

"I regret ever teaching you to turn Fish into a cat."

He looks up at the kitten's sleepy stare, his magic gently caressing his tiny ears. "Oh? What's that? You agree with me? Well then, that's two votes for Spearmint."

Sombra gives me the smuggest of all smug smiles.

"Maybe I should have turned you into a cat," I hiss at Sombra.

"If you don't accept Spearmint, I'll call you Minty."

"You wouldn't dare!"

Sombra levitates Fish directly in front of me. "Would you really say no to this face?"

Fish reaches out a paw - cautiously - at first and bats my muzzle.

"I-I-"

"Admit defeat?" Sombra teases.

"Never!"

"I don't know, Minty, that doesn't sound very resilient to me."

"Don't you dare go on!"

"Admit defeat," Sombra says simply, before placing Fish on his back.

"No."

Sombra places a kiss on my muzzle and a ray of sunlight on a window behind him illuminates his mane so perfectly-

"Fine. I'll be Spearmint for today."

Sombra withdraws his sword-turned-knife and the rest of the apple from his saddle bags, giving me the last slice before we continue to make our way down the streets of Ponemünde, which gradually become less crowded as we stray further and further from the town center.

When I won't stop petting Fish, Sombra places the creature back into the saddle bag that has replaced the water bubble he had called home.

Part of the plan was that we find an inn as far away from the docks and town square, mostly so Sombra would be comfortable sleeping and eating somewhere where there wouldn't be many ponies, and so we could go unnoticed easier by selecting the inn with the fewest patrons. Our story was going to be that we were a couple of Equestrian mercenaries who had stopped to celebrate a Hearth's Warming away from home, so we hadn't heard all of the news about the missing Princess Luna. It was a very likely story. Sombra and I had even spotted a few other mercenaries in town, their spellbooks and swords peeking out of saddlebags, and folded maps poking out of front coat pockets like a gentlecolt's kerchief - or Fish's tail out of Sombra's saddlebag.

Those sorts would no doubt be asking questions of all kinds to the townsponies and innkeepers in order to catch up on any news they missed on their travels. While I would appear rather unassuming - my fake 'profession' was not likely to be guessed were I to enter any location solo - Sombra would have no trouble getting ponies to believe he was a mercenary. In fact, he might not even have to say he was. His well-packed saddlebags, roguish demeanor, enchanted weapon, skill at reading ponies, and lack of any conforming accent would help him greatly. 

The only worry would be if he spoke too much. He did have a few speaking habits that were exclusive to the crystal ponies, which might accidentally be revealed in conversation if he wasn't careful to suppress what little Crystalline accent he had managed to pick up. One odd pronunciation of 'about' and ponies would instantly become suspicious...



...



On the the northern edge of Ponemünde there was an inn and bar in called Der Sternschnuppe, as its sign proudly stated. It was a small, almost unadorned, and out of the way establishment that looked to have no need for frills beyond the swirling astral patterns carved into the wooden sign that swung quietly every now and then. The lack of cheerful songs echoing from within and the closed windows that lacked even the simplest wreath made the silent building of plain gray stone, overshadowed by a neighboring building, have an air of unfriendliness.

"What do you think?"

I looked up at Sombra, smiling gently at him. "It looks cozy."

"I was referring to the name - it's called The Shooting Star." He nods to the sign. "Don't you know any Germane?"

"No, I'm afraid not. How about you; do you speak any Germane?"

"Kein Wort."

"A translation, if you will?"

Sombra took a few steps close to the door and gripped the handle in his magic. "It means 'Not a word'. I imagine that I'll have to be using the translation spell I know whenever you need to talk to somepony."

"It is hardly my fault that the last opportunity I had to hear a bit of Germane spoken was at a summit I skipped over a thousand years ago, before this country even had half the land it now claims."

Sombra blinked. "Why did you skip a summit?"

"There was a sudden dragon attack at a nearby city. As expected, the ponies of that day and age had little idea how to properly deal with dragons."

"Your subjects are imbeciles."

"Thank you, Sombra." I reached up and petted his wither sweetly. "Now, may we get something to eat? I'm famished."

Sombra nodded and opened the door of Der Sternschnuppe. If we were to eat anything or sleep anywhere at all, he was either going to have to beat somepony at a few games of cards, or we were going to have to barter something.



...



When Sombra and I stepped inside Der Sternschnuppe, we were not greeted with any sound except for the quiet melody of shuffling hooves and clinking glass, both of which did little to fill the comfortable silence in the air. The location was bound to be such a cause for low patronage since I saw four ponies other than myself and Sombra. 

The first was a unicorn mare who sat at  a table in the corner, sipping an ale. She looked to be about five years older than Sombra, her blonde mane already streaked with premature gray that she didn't bother to hide. A broadsword lay against the rear of her chair and an unfurled map lay in front of her, weighted down by a coin purse and a lantern holding a floating werelight. Her eyes held a competitive look that drifted past me. She did not see that though I was unassuming in this form, I carried more experience than she could gain in ten lifetimes. She gave Sombra a challenging look, her eyes as brown as the wood-paneled walls coming to rest on him. He shot her a curt, dismissive glare that caused the mare to swallow suddenly, her rear hooves knocking a piece of armor that lay on the floor beside her.

Sombra smirked, though his gesture was cold and arrogant, I still admired it. The mare finally nodded to Sombra and went back to her drink.

I felt Sombra's forehoof nudge my wither and looked up to him. "You go talk to the innkeeper; she's bound to know a few languages other than Germane, if this is the kind of place I think it is. See if you can find out any news and the prices of food and a place to stay."

I looked over to the chubby pegasus mare polishing a fine silver tankard. She looked exactly like somepony's cookie-baking mother, if it weren't for the gleaming set of wingblades mounted on the wall behind her. Such blades that could only be hers, for she carried herself like one who had fought before, and the same blades marked her flank. Her faded lilac mane, despite being tied up in a cheerful bandana, was still cut short and meticulously arranged so not a single strand escaped, as any good soldier would do. She looked like a nice mare that wouldn't be a bother to chit-chat with.

"What about you? What shall you do?"

Sombra inclined his head ever so slightly to the center table, illuminated by a few of the modern lights in the large center hall, their enchanted bulbs shining brightly where the evening sunlight failed to make its way past the tightly closed shutters.

At the table sat a peaceful looking earth pony mare with an average build wearing a ruffled dress of flowing spring green. A pink sun hat hid all her face, except for a tranquil looking smile. Beside her, a few brochures were neatly stacked on what might have been a menu and cards were clutched in her forehoof. The smell of too much expensive perfume wafted by Sombra and I. Sombra cringed slightly at the scent, but made no remark.

The mare turned to look at us, smiling amiably and offering a quick hello - in the Prancian tongue, no less - before returning to her game.

"She's either a tourist or a novice, gaily dressed spy," Sombra muttered, but his eyes were on the second pony: a burly pegasus stallion with an over-styled mane of dull gold and a pale orange coat. He was the sort of pony who fancied himself to be like Sombra - intelligent, powerful, dashing, well-spoken, and charismatic - when they were really far more like Starswirl in nature, having only coarse words to speak, 'humor' appreciated by none, and a roaming gaze that leaves one feeling dreadfully disgusted long after a lout such as this is no longer in one's presence.

They may not be as easy to find as they were in the Tribal Era, but this was a timeless sort of pony. Both my sister and I have had unfortunate experience with this kind when in mortal guises and in youth, especially Celestia. I can still recall my violent reactions centuries later that sent these sorts cantering away as best as the could, their injuries aside. Only a few of these types I have encountered were unable to escape me. Even as a growing filly in the time of the tribes, I was a danger to such creeps. When their eyes said where they would try to slip their foul hooves, I would give them a few breaks and kicks. Any cronies knew to stay away from the little blue terror after a while. 

This stallion was staring at Sombra in a way that made my skin crawl, one that was familiar. A large coin purse overflowing with bits spilled out in front of this stallion who lazily held his own hoof of cards.

"Are you sure you wish to consort with that sort of pony?" I make no effort to hide the contempt in my tone. I recognized this variation of such a pony as one that was sleazy for certain with how he eyed Sombra. He reeked 'come-hither' but did not seem aggressive... but that could change. I remember the Court stories my sister used to tell of perverts and worse. I didn't want Sombra to be hurt if this stallion was more then a low-life.

"There's no need to worry. I know these types, and I've played them before. I'm only going to beat him at a few dozen games of cards; he's too stupid to realize that I'm going to play each of his flaws just as easily as I'll win each round of cards. Just give me about a few hours and I'll have enough bits to buy you something to eat and rent a room."

I nuzzle Sombra briefly before walking over to the bar. "Have fun, Sombra."



...



Some time later, I had talked about anything and everything that wasn't a lie or a potential risk to the mare at the bar. She was Equestrian and from Cloudsdale. Her historian parents had named her Windigo Breath which had gotten Windy - which is what she liked to be called - shunned from an early age. As soon as she was able to she joined the Equestrian military and ended up being sent to Germaneigh for a while.

I sipped some of the ale that Sombra had bought for me with the money he had won and listened as Windy continued to recount a tale of her many years running the inn with her Germane wife, who was a very fine cook if the food here was any indication.

"There have truly been that many fights here?" I asked incredulously.

"Ja. It's amazing the walls are still in decent shape after Eagle Eyes-" she nods over to the Germane mare in the corner after giving me her name in Equish "-has challenged so many ponies to duels over her corner seat."

"You might as well put a plaque there, with her name inscribed for all to see," I said, laughing lightly and taking a bite of my sandwich, enjoying the taste of toasted bread, butter, and fresh vegetables.

While I had wanted something heartier and less universal, Sombra had ordered the same meal for both of us: tomato soup, sandwiches, and more. He only forfeited an ale on his part. I had a sneaking suspicion he might be a lightweight. Most of the bits he had earned had been used to buy rounds for the stallion he challenged to cards, and the stallion was fool enough to accept this from Sombra, until his judgement was clouded and he lost easily, and yet still he would try to make a move with Sombra, though Sombra eventually made little effort to hide his revulsion of the advances. Still, as obnoxious as they were, I was relieved that I didn't have to intervene, and I could devour my corn cobs happily.

Thankfully, Windy had also asked the stallion to leave. Her feathers had twitched in the way that only one who has worn wingblades - like myself - would recognize. Now Sombra and I sat in a quieter Der Sternschnuppe eating identical sandwiches, with very little change to our names now that we had successfully rented a room and gotten dinner. Though we sat on stools, I leaned as close to Sombra as I possibly could while trying to plot out how to sample Sombra's soup without him noticing.

Carefully, I reached out a hoof, hoping to grab the bowl now that I lacked telekinesis... but Sombra saw what I was doing, smacked my hoof away and gave me an unsurprised, knowing look that questioned why I had bothered to try and do something like that in the first place. I smiled at Sombra in reply and he just made a brief huffing noise before nudging the bowl of soup over to me. Windy, who had just returned to the long bar counter from collecting glasses at the site of Sombra's card games, laughed warmly and muttered something about young lovers.



...



Sombra eyed the numbers on the doors that lined the inn's back hallway, away from the common room.

"Did you learn anything of interest?" he asks quietly, flicking the sleeve of his jacket so the key had stashed in there falls out.

"I might answer that."

Another roll of his eyes, this one is far more knowing then the last. "What is it you want to know?"

"Are you a lightweight? You looked like you would be sick upon seeing the single tankard I had to drink. You do realize that it would take about a dozen more of those for me to even begin to appear intoxicated, don't you?"

"Yes, yes, I'm fully aware of how to make Alicorns drunk and I am, as you put it, a lightweight..." Sombra looked down at the ground "...and I'm a nasty drunk. I was a nasty drunk."

I almost call out his name, but resist doing so. The walls do not necessarily have ears, but Sombra and I are not among allies here, so it would be wise to hold some things back.

"I've never had any substitute for it that I could trust until now, and I hated what it did to me. I already had a horrid temper so-"

I stop him by trying to pull him close, which proves to be difficult with this small frame, and give him a quick kiss. "If you ever need to talk to me, I will always be here for you, and if you need to get something off your chest, I'll be glad to listen."

"Do you do this for everypony you like?"

"No. Only for you."

I offer to take the key from his forehoof, though Sombra declines with a shake of his head. Instead, I take his saddlebags from him, even if they were hardly a burden - especially now that Fish was kept safe by Windy in a bathtub in a spare room now that the spell cast on him had worn off.

Sombra gives a heavy sigh and runs a hoof through his mane. "Right now, I really don't want to be talking about anything except what you learned from your conversations."

"Both Shining Armor and Cadance's ship and Rarity and Twilight Sparkle's ship have been at the western docks for days."

"And that's why we didn't see two airships  travelling on a crown-sanctioned journey?"

"Precisely. Each pair has exchanged information and knows of the other's presence in Ponemünde. Many of the townsponies and establishments have been questioned about sightings and asked for information or clues by Twilight Sparkle and Miss Rarity while Shining Armor and Cadance have been operating out of various restaurants. It doesn't look like we'll be able to stay very long with Twilight Sparkle about."

Sombra sighs once more, appearing nothing but exhausted to me. "Tomorrow we can go talk to Mac and Shiny Sparkle McGlitterbutt."

I watch Sombra stifle a yawn while I resist the urge to pull him into a hug. He unlocks the door, already trying to blink away sleep as his stoic expression melts from boredom to utter fatigue. Once he unlocks the door, his eyes are transfixed on the floor, as if he had forgotten something. I carry his things in for him and as soon as I set hoof in the room and turn on a light there is a loud thud behind me.

I drop the saddle bags on the floor of the darkened room and turn around... only to see Sombra lying on the floor already looking half-asleep and muttering to himself about what a relief it is to be on land again. He either has no idea that he's acting as a doorstop or simply doesn't care. Knowing that he's unlikely to budge on his own, I drag him into the room and close the door, fumbling around for any kind of switch. Under my breath, I mutter about the convenience of enchanted lanterns and other ingenious mechanisms for illumination that could have been better than strange switches with wires that only bore so much magical traces.

Once I find that, light is shed on our surroundings. The room is quite large with a small, high window that shows the starry sky outside and is cracked open so traces of the southern summer winds can waft in. I noted two doors on opposite walls; one lead to a small closet and the other to a bathroom.

But there was only one bed.

I looked down at Sombra's sleeping form. I doubt he's had a good night's sleep in a very long time, or if he sleeps at all when he's on his own. He's been doing so much for me and I can't imagine what all the emotional weight he's been dealing with has been doing to him. The last thing I'll be letting him do is sleep on the floor, even if it is what he would do. I've slept on the bare ground of countless landscapes when it was just Tia and I wandering the world, so there's no reason I shouldn't be able to sleep on an inn floor of all places.

Carefully, I lift him into the bed once I have stowed the saddle bags in the closet. There's three pillows on the bed; I take one for myself and use the other two to prop up Sombra as comfortably as possible. His disguise is starting to fall away, more rapidly by the minute. Since he doesn't mind sleeping in his cloak, I leave it on him, rubbing a hoof along the restored crimson fabric before I pull the covers over him.

I see no point in trying to brush his mane away from his face and plant a quick kiss on his cheek. He moves slightly and fitfully, but only for a moment, his mane spilling across almost all of his face.

"Good night, Sombra. Sweet dreams."



...



I'm not sure how late into the night it was when I heard Sombra stir and him call out my name. I half-opened an eye, rubbing it with a forehoof. Unlike Sombra, I had chosen to keep my disguise. Once I managed to blink away enough sleep to see him clearly, he spoke again.

"Luna? What time is it? How did I get-"

He never finished his question, and it ended with a loud yawn instead.

I blinked again and looked at his outline in the dark. I could see the way his cloak fell and the curve of his horn. Once my vision cleared completely and sharpened I could make out a few other things: his jaw, his mane, the way he was sitting up so he looked like he was caught between trying to push up from the bed while still longing to lay down. With my disguise, everything was so shadowy now that I had no access to my natural night vision. Yet, I couldn't help but love the muted darkness and quiet.

"You fell asleep as soon as we stepped inside the room," I mumbled just loud enough that my words weren't completely muffled by the pillow.

"How'd I get in this bed if I fell asleep as soon as we entered?"

"I put you there."

"Oh."

"Is something wrong?"

"I'm not really sure what to make of that..."

"You were beyond exhausted, Sombra."

Sombra blinks sleepily and falls back into the bed in a flurry of sheets, and it's quiet once more.

"Are you well?"

"Just tired. You?"

"About the same," I add with a yawn of my own.

My gaze roams across the room, trying to note each feature, angle, and shadow in the dark. Stars are still shining outside and the sky is vast, silent, cold and midnight-dark. Not even Sombra is likely to see my smile at the sight.

Lastly, I turn to look at Sombra. It does look as if he is sleeping. I don't think that he realizes that when he sleeps he looks peaceful. Well, peaceful in a way that only Sombra can. He looks solid. Everlasting. I can imagine blinking long enough, just screwing my eyes shut and then opening them to find everything around me right now gone. Or changed. But never Sombra. Though slumber is such a simple act, he manages to look eternal without effort. Protective, too. Everything really could just disappear.

Everything could end.

But Sombra? Sheer stubbornness aside, he'd still be here, as would I. Everypony I know has always had the air of being temporary about them - even Tia has had traces of this, where I felt as if I could simply rise one morning... and find her gone. Sombra does not. It feels like he has always been here, that he'll never vanish even if I were to slumber as long as a dozen dragons were to live. We could both be lost and he would still feel constant.

Silently, I rise from the floor and sneak over to him, my eyes wide as they count his breaths. He's definitely asleep, but not deeply so. I have spent enough time watching him sleep to know how deeply he sleeps off his breathing alone.

Without a word, I slip under the blankets and nuzzle him. Sombra's reaction is slow at first, so I nuzzle him again. When he finds me staring right into his eyes and the both of us muzzle to muzzle, he swallows sharply, eyes going wide.

"Luna?" he hisses, almost pulling away.

"I'm sorry if I scared you."

"Luna, this is far closer to me then you've ever been. Is something wrong?"

"Can I stay close to you?"

"What-"

"Please?"

Sombra suppressed a sigh since we were muzzle to muzzle. "What exactly are you considering 'close'?"

I take advantage of the small frame and size of my disguise and wrap my hooves around him and drawing myself closer as quickly as possible. His reaction is slight shock and when I press my ear to his chest I can hear his quickened heartbeat. It's such a lovely sound too and I can't help but snuggle closer to Sombra.

"You just want to cuddle with me? Nothing else?" His voice comes in whispers, and is surprised and devoid of any accusations or disappointment. I love the way I can feel his warm breathing when he speaks, and everything around us is sealed in an atmosphere of safety and good feelings I've never known - then again, I've never been so close to another soul in such a loving way before. 

I nod into his coat without hesitation. It may be summer in the southern hemisphere but Sombra's years spent north has caused him to be adapted for colder climates. Since any location north of Canterlot would be receiving far more generous amounts of snow somepony like Sombra, who has braced the cold from an early age, would need a thicker coat.  I heard and felt Sombra sigh with fake annoyance, relenting and wrapping his hooves around me while I buried my face in the fluffy traces of his winter coat that hadn't fully come in on his chest, listening in relieved silence when I heard a low purr start to form.

"I take it you're starting to feel better?"

"Mhmph," I manage through gray fluff.

Sombra just held me closer. "I'll just take that as a 'yes'. I look forward to spending tomorrow with you as well."

I had already begun to drift off, clutching a hoofful of Sombra's cloak as I did. I still listened to his lulling heartbeat, only looking up once to briefly catch his enraptured expression.

"I love you."

After he said those words, his purring resumed, steadily growing louder.

"Sombra?"

At the sound of my voice it stuttered to a temporary stop, allowing me to speak. I could almost feel Sombra's confusion as he waited to hear my words.

"I love you too."
> Chapter 34: Happy Hearth's Warming from the End of the World
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Luna:


Sunlight filtering through the window and lighting up the inn's room could only mean one thing: I had forgotten to lower the moon during the dawn, so Celestia had to do it herself, no doubt worrying about me all the while. Eventually, I relented to the bright light and blinked my eyes open, wincing when the morning sunlight proved to be far harsher to the eyes of this mortal guise than I anticipated. Shadows on the walls and the lack of sounds outside, except faint stirring of the wind told me it was still fairly early, and it was unlikely to be more than fifteen minutes past dawn, at the very least. Back in Canterlot, Tia would no doubt being trying to finish her breakfast, worriedly drowning out everything else with coffee at me forgetting to lower the moon before she started her day. 

I don't mean to make her worry - I'll be raising the moon come again this evening, of course - but I am sure she shall be fine. There are so many ponies there to watch after her and listen to her when she's in distress. She's loved and adored, surrounded by many whom she could call friend. Time spent around ponies always helped her spirits, where mine would always would fall in such a situation. Ponies made her feel safe, and they cared for her as she cared for them. I couldn't relate to this, but for Tia's sake I tried to understand. I had never truly known any feeling like that for myself since the company of others had never brought me anything like joy or solace...

Except, now I found sompony who brought me more happiness than any everypony's praise or loyalty could ever.

Sombra's forehooves were still wrapped around me, as if he wasn't sure I was really there. I nuzzled his chest, and though I yielded no other reaction except for his continued soft breathing in his undisturbed slumber, I wasn't going to complain.

"Sombra?" I whispered, pawing at his chest with a forehoof.

He grumbled softly, but I couldn't tell if it was anything unintelligible or simply muffled speech.

I prodded him again. "Sombra, it's morning!"

"...Uh?"

"You're awake?" I asked, nuzzling his chest again.

"You stayed with me..."

"Of course I did."

"Luna... you..."

I bit the inside of my cheek. "Is something wrong?" I whisper.

"Heh. No," he whispers back, kissing the top of my head and nuzzling into my mane. "Nothing at all. It's just that... you stayed and you told me that-"

"I love you, Sombra."

Sombra pulls me closer, and I let him. "Gah, it's too early to even be alive and you're telling me the one thing I've always wished you would say..."

I feel Sombra yawn and give him a hug. "It's only around five in the morning, Sombra."

"See my previous statement," he mutters, stroking my mane. I want him to keep talking, so I can feel how his whispers tickle my mane and ears. 

"We're going to have to meet Shining and Cadance today so we should-"

"Sleep in? Definitely. I'm all for this plan."

"What about breakfast?"

I heard Sombra snort. "We're broke, and I'm too tired to be shoplifting anything."

"You just want to cuddle with me."

"That is my main objective, yes."

I chuckle and run a hoof down the hem of Sombra's cloak. "And are we supposed to be forgoing our meeting with Shining and Cadance?"

"Of course not, but we'll be better off if we-" Sombra interrupts the middle of his sentence with a heavy yawn. "-wait a while. If you were to mention to our dear old friend Miss Pink One that you and I slept in and skipped breakfast she would be forced by the social obligations she follows to buy us a bigger lunch. Visiting royalty would usually get a discount too, so we could make her purchase a feast for us. Not to mention that the only way we'll be able to track them down without suspicion will be to use my ability to sense their magic."

"You just came up with this plan, I presume?"

"Yes, why?"

"It's genius."

"And so am I."

"I cannot argue with you there," I mumble before relaxing once more and slinking into Sombra's embrace again. Tia may have our entire nation to love her as a motherly icon, but I have somepony far better: I have Sombra, a single pony who loves the both of us for being ourselves, and I wouldn't trade him for any kind of worship or adoration from any crowd, since his honesty and loyalty to me are worth more than any kind fealty that my subjects could offer.

I'm about to close my eyes when I hear Sombra say something. "Hrm? What was that, Sombra?"

"Are you really that tired?" he teases.

"Maybe a little. Was that what you had said?"

"No..."

I snuggle deeper into the fluff of his winter coat. "What was it then?"

"Are you mine?"

"Pardon?"

"You told me that you love me, but do you want us to be together?"

"You are inquiring to if you want to have a formal relationship with me?"

"Yes, Luna..." Sombra mumbles tiredly.

"I wouldn't consider it with anypony but you, Sombra."



...



Sombra seemed to disapprove of almost everything we saw outside today, such as the brightness of the summer sun high in the cloud-free sky over Ponemünde.

First, he expressed mild annoyance with the tacky nature of the modest amounts of wreaths that adorned occasional shops, windows, and doors by shooting each one he saw a glare of disgust.

Next, he grew grumpier with each time Fish tried to stick his head out of Sombra's saddlebags, whiskers twitching. Sombra eventually gave up trying to manage the creature once Fish dared to try and place a paw upon Sombra's cloak - which was disguised like a jacket again - and then dumped Fish onto my wingless back, where he sat for the remainder of our walk around Ponemünde.

Both Sombra and I took joy in pointing out how silly the townsponies were, their cheerful mood affecting all but us. Their good-mornings and Happy Hearth Warmings were like projectiles that passed over the two tourist ponies who only smiled at one another and made eye contact with nopony at all. Sombra could have lit something on fire and not a soul would have noticed - which he half disapproved of and was half amused by.

The fourth thing he despised on Hearth's Warming Day was having to call himself an Equestrian the one time he was asked by somepony who posed the mundane question of where his home country was. Once the Germane native had received the answer she had wanted, Sombra dropped any pretense of curtness.

"Me, an Equestrian! It's ridiculous that anypony would be so stupid to accept that answer. Neither of us are Equestrians. We barely even sound like the horde of idiots that make up the citizens of your bloody pathetic excuse for a nation."

"You pass for Equestrian fairly well."

"I suppose."

"You just need the customary lobotomy, correct?" 

"Are you really saying that about your own subjects?"

"I'm trying to make a joke, Sombra. One you would appreciate."

"How do you even know what a lobotomy is? They don't do them anymore."

"I grew up in the Tribal Era too. Starswirl strongly advocated the philosophy that only unicorns needed brains and that earth ponies should be 'relieved' of them. Since I am an Alicorn, and neither a earth pony or a unicorn... and one who never obeyed him, Starswirl would have gotten farther in his attempts to lobotomize me when I was much younger if it weren't for Tia."

Sombra tried to suppress a growl, but only managed to make it quieter, hissing his words through gritted teeth. "He tried to do that to you? As a filly?!"

"I'm here now, Sombra. Nopony is going to hurt me anymore."

"Especially not with me around."

I brush closer to Sombra, my steps gliding across the cobbled streets. "I won't let anypony hurt you either."

Seeing Sombra smile was the best gift I received that day and the image of it stuck with me throughout the rest of our walk to find Shining Armor and Cadance. Even when we were counting seagulls or Sombra stopped to try and teach me a few bits of Germane from a sign, I still wanted to see him smile again. I knew I was smitten with Sombra, and had been for a while... but I hadn't known I was smitten with his smile as well.

There was nothing I could put past him, Sombra's mind and reflexes were sharper than any pony I had ever known. He could keep up with all my eccentricities. He could understand things I couldn't always bring myself to say. He saw time as it was: something that could never be bent to the will of any mortal; a vast sea none could tame and a blank page for an immortal soul to map. His wit always had me laughing or thinking and he noticed many things that even I might overlook.

He knew I wanted to see him smile again. He was waiting, I suspect, for some pleasing timing in order to surprise me with something more than the creeping smirk I caught glimpses of now.

We continued to play silent games with one another, quietly pointing out sights for one another to see, letting our expressions be the only comment we give. Other times, I would pull him down some lonely looking street to see what might lie along them and we would peer into forgotten shops with mostly-drawn curtains and ponder lots of little things in silence...

Who owns them? What could some of them be for? What might be the cause for the lack of patronage? How old might that teapot in the window be? Would Sombra drink tea? What might the title of that book be? If this was a secondhoof item shop, then who owned the book last? What oddly pretentious name would describe the color of the wallpaper?

...and eventually Sombra would nudge me in a silent reminder that it was almost one o' clock and we should be going even if I wanted to drag him under one more sprig of mistletoe of the dozens hanging around Ponemünde.

In retaliation, I would sneak flowers into his mane, gathering them from clumps in window boxes and other locations hiding from the sea breezes that wafted by and then watching Sombra pull them out, making a sound somewhere between a snort and a sigh before he made them combust in brilliant bursts of different colored sparks for us both to watch.

It was my job to be a princess, and while I did not like the disguise I had to don I did like the distance between myself and ponies when I could walk among them and still feel as alone as ever with an ever-expanding sea of alienation that only reveals how detached I am from mortals compared to my sister. Right now, they feel like pastoral paintings of dandelion fluff... very real, very fleeting, but not really here. Ponies can cease to feel real after a while, yet they think that somehow, on maybe a level or two - but only the ones that aren't really there - that I'm the same as them.

Perhaps that's one reason that meeting Sombra was so horrifying. He had never felt like that. Everything he did, and still continues to do is bold and trademark... and utterly unforgettable as a result. The same distance that I do not mind driven between myself and mortals serves only to bring Sombra and I together and I knew that if I ever needed to close that gap, just for a little while, then Sombra is the anchor I can count on to bring me all the way back from wherever I have been.

"They're going to be right around this corner," Sombra says, finally breaking the silence between us and nodding to the edge of a row of brick townhouses where something lies beyond: our meeting place with Shining and Cadance.

I nod, and watch Sombra's knowing smirk emerge when he sees the location that has been selected by Cadance and Shining Armor that has caused Sombra's eyes to reflect great amusement, and even excitement.

It's a restaurant... but the giant, illustrated sign makes its focus clear...

...This eatery appears to have a focus on pizza.



...



After a few quick hellos were exchanged between Cadance, Shining Armor, and myself the reserved room that they had been occupying for the late morning became the victim of Sombra's 'there can never be too much pizza' attitude and my voracious appetite. The large table in a once pristine, quiet room was no longer home to the quietly discarded plates from the soup and pizza that Cadance and Shining Armor had, both sets of dinnerware quietly adding up to an almost meager stack even when the two wineglasses Cadance had used were taken into account.

None were prepared for what Sombra and I would unleash. The birds twittering outside and the soft melody of the peaceful breeze didn't match the brutal scene unfolding in the cafe.

Three large garden salads - one of which had been flooded with a sea of dressing - had already disappeared when placed in front of me along with half a dozen plates of crackers and three bowls of soup - two small one medium. Since Cadance had commented on the wine being quite exquisite here, I had agreed to have a small glass. Or four. It was better than what Cadance had said for such a common establishment and since Cadance had finished her meal before Sombra and I arrived she took the time to explain that Alicorns like Tia and are were not like ponies in terms of how much we ate - or how difficult we were to intoxicate.

His only response was to nod dully, politely hiding as many traces of horror as he could and refusing dessert while I looked longingly at the sandwiches advertised in the menu. How could such culinary beauties be so far in the back of the advertisement while images of the plentiful and tempting salad bar took up a page and a half? It was truly an injustice to spotlight fruit pies while forgetting that sandwiches are a most outstanding modern convenience. 

"Auntie Luna, are you still hungry?" Cadance asked, smiling while I stared at the surprisingly charming and accurate illustrations of various dishes.

"I wouldn't want to drain what little bits you still have-"

"Nonsense!" Cadance said, cheerfully clapping her forehooves together so the gold shoes she wears clink with a pleasing rhythm. "If you want a slice of pie, there's still plenty of bits from Auntie Celestia. Is there a certain flavor you like?"

"Oh, I wasn't looking at the pies. Tia has always been more fond of such confections than I."

Across from my chair, Cadance stared at down at the short frame of my earth pony mare disguise, blinking. "Isn't there anything else you wanted? The bill's going to give us away if news of anything suspicious like the amount ordered reaches Canterlot, but that'll take a few days, especially now that it's Hearth's Warming..."

I meet her mock-smirk with a small smile of my own, so different from the one I gave to Sombra. A small break in my usually neutral expression, a smile for a friend. "You are trying to guilt trip me into ordering dessert? Oh my, is harboring a fugitive and a runaway not good enough for you that you have resorted to other lowly deeds?"

Cadance holds a gold-shod forehoof to her chest in faux shock. "How could you accuse your favorite niece of taking such actions against you?"

"I would much prefer this over a pie anyway." To show Cadance what I'm referring to, I hold up the menu in my forehooves, turning it to face her so she can see the image of a large sundae drizzled in thick rivers of fudge and dotted with cherries and vanilla chocolate shavings that look like snow falling onto the mint chocolate chip scoops of ice cream. To top off the look of a snow covered hill for Heath's Warming, a pretzel stick dunked in toffee is heavily decorated with green frosting dusted with a light coat of whipped cream in obvious mimicry of a pine tree.

"L-Luna..." Cadance says, no doubt examining the price.

"Is it too much?"

"I can't believe you can eat something like this just once without any consequences."

"I was planning on sharing it."

Cadance laughs. "With who? Sombra doesn't like ice cream and I'm full."

"Maybe we could get it to go?" I quietly offered, however Cadance had already turned to talk to Shining Armor.

"Shiny, dear, do you want any of this dessert Auntie Luna is thinking about getting?"

Shining didn't respond to Cadance's question because he was too busy staring at Sombra with slack-jawed horror, his blue eyes bearing the blankness of one who has been bleached of all emotional experience through many hardships and traumas that have left their soul void of little else but the painful remembrance of the things that they have seen-

Except it was hard to believe that there was much depth to this reaction since he was merely watching Sombra eat.

Sombra, of course, ordered an entire pizza for himself. The cheesy surface was littered with pineapples and green peppers. Two metal cans, their surfaces gleaming with dripping dots of misty precipitation, sat empty of their sugary, soda-pop contents next to the large plate his pizza was served on. Five slices of pizza were expertly stacked on top of one another, separated only by layers of a salad that he had sandwiched between the slices. He didn't need to worry about me trying to steal anymore bits from his salad now that it was at the mercy of the pizza slices and Sombra himself.

"Are you really going to try and eat all that?" Shining Armor whispered, his voice quavering with fear.

Sombra nodded, scoffing at Shining's terror as if he were nothing more than a foal jumping at their own shadow.

"I guess that's a no..." Cadance said, returning her attention to me.

"Indeed."

"There's still enough bits to get this."

"Oh, I won't impose, really-" She cuts me off before I can promise to do something in return for her.

"It's fine, Luna." Cadance smiled. "You could always get it to go. Isn't there an enchanted icebox on your ship?"

I nodded, and Cadance looked around for any staff to call over while I busied myself by focusing elsewhere.

I wasn't sure which was stranger, the fact that Sombra was able to find a way to eat all that pizza or that I think Shining Amror was scarred for life in the process of watching Sombra shift into a small cloud of shadow to engulf his lunch when nopony was looking.

Well, nopony except Shining Armor who couldn't manage to look away...
> Chapter 35: Sometimes Silent, Sometimes Screaming
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Cadance:


"I'm sorry, Twilight," I whispered to the silent room, empty except for me. Behind the muted dull pink metal that made up the walls of Pink Sunset, there was no response except for the occasional click of 'whirlygigs'. Shiny had tried to teach me some of the proper names when we were first assigned to be on this ship. I had been too nervous to listen - well, I was nervous at the whole 'end of the world' deal with the growing sense of impending doom. But being on an airship? That was exciting.

Two days ago it was Hearth's Warming and I was so happy to finally see Auntie Luna and Uncle Sombra together and well... even if he wouldn't talk to me beyond give me a half-second of a glare. 

I run a forehoof along the edge of the table. It's the dullest silver-brown imaginable, but it compliments the relaxing pink walls nicely. The cup of tea I had been drinking seconds before sat on the surface. I tried not to count the ripples on the surface, waiting until it settled and all traces of the teacup having trembled in my magic's grip before I had set it down were gone. I thought it would be simple to have Luna and Sombra spend time with Shiny and I for a while, then Twilight and Rarity would be able to come over later and we'd compare our information and Shining and I would just have to pretend we hadn't seen Sombra and Luna until we were back in the Crystal Empire...

I thought we would be able to go home.

It wasn't Twilight's fault. Luna and Sombra stayed later than expected. Shiny and I shouldn't have offered to walk them down to the docks; it drew too much attention.

Of course Twilight recognized Sombra's voice. How could she ever forget it? How could I ever forget how Twilight looked when she saw me talking with Auntie Luna, her voice far too distinct for any disguise to work whenever she sounded so happy chatting with Sombra and me? Or Shiny's face when he saw how hurt Twily looked?

I chose to run. There would be no time for them to escape on their own ship and there was no way dutiful Twilight would let them get away or let anypony explain what happened and why she saw me talking to a fugitive...

...a mare she thought of as a sister, who would be a fugitive herself once she ran.

I couldn't make Shiny chose. If I had to, I would take Luna and Sombra to the end of the world all by myself. I know I told Shiny that Auntie Celestia, as dear as she was to me, might not be the right one here, at least on this matter. That left only Sombra and Luna doing something, I had to help them. I believe that all decisions should result in action. Something had to happen!

And Shiny did chose... somepony had to fly Pink Sunset and neither of us were sure if Sombra and Luna could. He really shouldn't have... but he did and I still couldn't shake that day's events.

"Some Hearth's Warming reunion," I mumble to myself, reaching a forehoof to twirl one of my mane's long curls... only to remember that they weren't there anymore when my hoof brushed the empty air.

I reached higher to try and snatch at the edge of my new manecut, as accidental as the events leading up to its creation were. I cringed at the recent memory of one of Twilight's beam spells was hastily deflected by a swift reaction from Sombra. The smell of smoke and my burning mane followed... and how I had stared at two-thirds of the mane I had been growing out for years lying scorched on the ground...

Choking back a sob, I tried to tease the edge of my mane a bit. It really wasn't the same. I took another sip of tea and swallowed it despite the drink still being hot.

What am I going to do now? What could Auntie Celestia possibly think after what happened back there?

When I don't get an answer from the empty room, I bury my face in my forehooves and just try to breathe. 

"Morning tea was supposed to be relaxing."

"I'm sure it was," deadpans a familiar voice. I jerk my head up at the unmistakable grumpy baritone that could only belong to one stallion... who is now sitting across from and drinking coffee in the most eerily judgemental way.

"How-"

He gives me a humorless stare. "You're not the most observant when you're busy throwing yourself pity parties."

"I see... Hi, Sombra?" I offered weakly.

He narrowed his eyes slightly. "Hello yourself."

"So..." I try to keep his hold his gaze as calmly as possible, but decide against it. "How's your morning? You don't seem like an early bird."

"I'm not." 

Yeesh, can his tone get any flatter?

"May I ask why you're up so early then?"

Sombra's expression doesn't falter. "You just did."

"Yeah, um, right. Gothca."

"This small talk isn't working and you know it."

I gulp and Sombra takes a swig of coffee. I'm pretty sure that with the steam still coming from the mug it's still piping hot - and he's drinking it like a tired jogger drinks cold water.

"Did you finally find something as bitter as you are?" Please, please take it as joke.

"It's not bitter enough," Sombra muses dryly.

"Sombra, that coffee is as black as Tirek's heart. It's about as bitter as coffee can be."

He shrugs and puts the mug down. For a few seconds all that either of us can hear is the soft clink of machinery, and I sneak a few quick looks around the quiet sitting room I'd picked to enjoy my morning tea in. There's no windows and only one door, which Sombra is closer to.

"I'm sorry, Sombra."

Part of me wishes he'd look away, just for a moment, so his gaze would be a little less intense.

"You said you had something for me?"

I bow my head and take a deep breath. "I got you pizzas when Auntie Celestia told me I was going to be tracking you, but whoever last enchanted the particular icebox I  stashed them in... didn't do a good job and they didn't keep."

"You're a disappointment."

For all I know, he actually means it now that he's mad at me.

"You and Luna certainly seem to be getting along."

"You're horrible at this."

I watch Sombra sip his coffee, and for a moment I'm able to let out the breath I had been holding when he looks away in order to devote more attention to his drink.

"Sombra, are you going to start?" I ask as cautiously as possible.

"Do you even understand why I'm angry with you?"

Inch by inch, I push my teacup over to me, trying to ignore Sombra's eyes as they follow the movements.

"I think so," I whisper, my hoof missing one tiny strike in moving the teacup along when I flinch at his reaction to my passive response: a menacing growl.

"Well then, that must be the most thinking you've done on this entire trip!"

The relaxing pink walls won't help me now so I try to make do with staring at the boring table and my forehooves. "I'm sorry."

"I don't care if you're sorry! It doesn't change the fact that you've been over stepping the boundaries only an idiot child would try to cross! You should have known better than to even think about disclosing any kind of information about me without my permission!"

"Luna was so upset, Sombra. I had to do something and Shining Armor is my-"

I felt the sharp pull of Sombra's magic jerk my head up from the nice view of the table I had. I managed a painful swallow before I tried to remain still under his stare.

"I. Don't. Care."

"But-"

"BE QUIET!"

Instantly, I was. I've played this game before with him - or a much younger copy of him - and if I was quiet and heard him out. I should be able to slip away and get Auntie Luna. She might be able to snap him out of this state.

"I put my trust in you every time I told you something about myself, that you would keep all information about me beyond a small hoofful of my present deeds confidential. Were you to do this, I would be able to have faith in you and would allow you to get away with certain things like joking with me and allowing you to call me your uncle. I see I put far too much faith in your ability to exercise social intelligence and know when not to speak."

Under his spell, it had become difficult to breathe correctly. I'm not sure if his grip on my throat was intentional, but it hurt and I needed air. He was likely too angry to know what he was doing, but I managed to light my own horn with a counterspell to release his aura and replace it with my own - unless, Elysium forbid, he decided to re-cast the spell.

I felt my own breath coming in coughs and gasps and buried my head in my forehooves and the table's cool surface so Sombra wouldn't see me cry and I didn't have to see his creepy, unnatural red eyes. Outside of my temporary shelter, I wasn't sure how Sombra was behaving. Was he furious with my behavior? I could still feel him sitting across from me and shivered at the thought. Except for the sound of my coughs and sniffles, everything sounded quiet until I heard the sound of somepony - obviously Sombra - clearing his throat and I nearly fell over when I felt something nudge me, so I stretched my wings over me like a shield.

"Will you look at me?"

What should I do? If I directly defy him, he might try to hurt me on pur-

Wait... would he really? If Sombra's temper gets worse, I could always go get Shiny or Luna. This isn't like when I was in the castle with just Seventeen and Opal Charm, there's ponies to help me.

Something pokes my foreleg again and even though Sombra's suddenly softer tone could be a trick - I had never heard him speak like that before, so it could spell trouble - I lift my head and plan to just look at the metallic surface of the table but...

...Sombra has a tissue box waiting for me. I had been feeling the corner of the box poking me.

Gingerly, I levitate one in my direction and begin to mop up the mess my light application of mascara had become, but I refused to look at Sombra. Something caught his attention or prompted him to move and I froze up when I caught him moving from the short bench where he had been sitting to the one I was occupying. I fiddled with the tissue in my magic's grasp until he suddenly took it away and I watched it meet a fiery fate, its ashes falling into a pile near my now-cold tea. Sombra offered me the box again and I accepted a tissue free of wrinkles and make up stains from him, using it like a cheap little blindfold to further avoid his gaze.

"I didn't mean to scare you like that."

He takes my lack of a response to mean I'm letting his words sink in and moves closer to me, so I can feel his cloak brush my coat. Slowly, I fold my wings properly and fix my posture.

"Really?" I croak, scared by how wounded my own voice sounds.

"Yes, really. It's very irritating when ponies won't look at me directly, especially somepony I like."

Instead of using my post-sob frog voice, I nod once. My head feels so much lighter without my mane and the gesture is less coordinated than I anticipated. Sombra's forehoof wraps around my withers and steadies me, since I'm shaking - mostly out of surprise, this is such a nice gesture for him and so unexpected I'm wondering if he's going to laugh and pull away, telling me it was a joke all along.

I don't think I've heard Sombra laugh before. Maybe he can't laugh. Either way, I'm sitting here awkwardly rubbing a slight bruise and occasionally coughing into a tissue while Sombra does... this. Is there a word specifically made for this kind of scenario? The ones where your crazy demon uncle shows something other than sass?

Before I can get a response, Sombra lights his horn and uses his free hoof to push away the mane on my right side to look at my throat, where the bruise is.

"I didn't intend to hurt you, Mac. I'll understand if chose to be on less than friendly terms with me after this, but would you at least let me heal that?"

I watch him gesture to the bruise and immediately think of how Seventeen tried to drive a harder bargain that had lead to the first real falling out Sombra and I had. Why had Sombra's copy of himself who barely even tolerated the space I occupied even tried to make that offer when I'm pretty sure the magical connection between Sombra and Seventeen was just enough to keep the latter from killing me on sight?

"It's because I care about you."

"S-Sombra? How did you-"

"Intuition and not much more. I can't read minds, you know."

Swallowing the remainder of the lump in my throat, I start to speak to him. "But why? Did you command the Cloning Spell-"

"Replicating Spell."

"Fine, the Replicating Spell. Did you command it not to hurt me or something?"

"To the best of my ability, I made sure it wouldn't kill you or injure you severely, mostly so you could accomplish whatever task you had at hoof."

"And the other reason...?"

"I already told you: whether you like it or not, I care about you. The empathy I extend to you isn't unlimited, and I'm well aware that you and I both know that I'm a manipulative ass from time to time, but that doesn't change the fact that I want to see you grow as an individual or will try to assist you by ensuring that you can access my creations. You're not somepony I like to see hurt or whose company I despise and even if you are a naive candy golem with sugar where a brain could be, I still like to keep you around. Now, will you let me heal you?"

My head swam with his words. "Yeah... go ahead. It's still strange to think that only a while ago I would have never believed any of this could happen."

"Any of what?" Sombra says softly, the crimson glow of his horn dimming once he's done. When he looks at me now, he looks calmer and I can't see any hatred or signs of his anger in his gaze.

"That you would be... well, you. A smart, honest, and crazy pony who would have a lot to teach me and would become my friend. If I could go tell my past self all about this, she'd never trust a word I would say and start talking about how cruel you are."

"Do you think I'm cruel?"

"I think you have a lot of emotional trauma."

"That's actually one of the nicest things anypony has said about me."

"Umm..."

"Don't think about it too hard. Are you feeling any better?"

"Yes, and-" 

"Alright, Mac. I'll be going now since I can't imagine you want to talk to me."

Upon finishing, he sits up and proves he is serious by starting to walk toward the door, but before he could get too far, I had the nerve to reach out and grab him. I really only meant to grab his cloak, but instead I ended up grabbing Sombra himself and pulling him back into his seat, so he was once again sitting right next to me and looking very disgusted at the fact that I had touched him.

"Sorry... it's just that I wanted to talk to you some more."

His left eye twitched, and he looked at me like I had just told him that I thought country music was an appropriate genre for jogs. Or life. 

"Are you sure about that?"

"Absolutely! Please sit and talk with me."

"Talk with you about what?"

"Fine, if you're going to be that way then just reply when I ask you something."

"Whatever."

"I really had only intended to help you when I shared your letters with Luna and told Shiny about where you came from. He's not going to blame you for anything about what happened before the Empire returned, but he's certainly going to be less accepting of what happened with Twilight-"

"She had it coming."

"This right here is the only thing he's going to be less than pleased with. That and maybe I'm pretty sure you're an anarchist who is a menace to society."

"I completely agree with the last part, though I will neither confirm nor deny the first."

Though the the beverage is far from warm, I levitate the mug of coffee Sombra had been drinking from the table and take a long sip. His glare tells me that he allowed this to happen solely because I was upset and that my wings aren't as attached to me as I would like to think.

"I'll be lenient with the letter sharing with Luna, but don't you think you could have crossed more out or something? I just..."

"Wanted to tell her some of the things you wrote to Luna yourself?"

"Yes. She's stubborn enough that she might have removed any obvious alterations, such as lines that had been crossed out, but I would have appreciated it if you had done so anyway."

"Okay, Sombra. I understand that much but... can you forgive me?"

"Can you understand that I'm not one for any kind of information about me being revealed like that? I'm not one who ever wanted to be remembered by anypony... Luna being the only obvious exception. You weren't exactly a surprise - not in the slightest - but making an alliance with you was something I planned for. I just predicted it to be more along the lines of a temporary pact."

"I'm glad we didn't part back at Canterlot after our first adventure."

"I agree. Your company is certainly some kind of entertainment for me, and I really do appreciate some of the things you've done for me... but do you understand that I never wanted to be doing any self-disclosure with anypony other than Luna? When I thought you were ready to hear about where I came from - a relatively unplanned move on my part - you weren't. It was a test, and you didn't exactly pass with flying colors."

Gods, even regular black coffee isn't supposed to be this bitter! What does he do to it?

I put the mug down and forced a swallow. "How has it been going with Luna, if I may ask?"

Sombra blinks. "It's... really something."

"C'mon, I know you can say more than that!"

"I've never been able to talk to anypony like I talk to her."

"Wow... That's certainly great to hear! The both of you have been very subdued, but I can feel that you two really care about one another."

"That's a certainly a mild way of putting it," Sombra mutters, poking my discarded tea cup with his hoof.

"Are things alright now?"

Sombra's ears prick up and he decides to meet my gaze, though he looks bored. "Between us?"

"No more kerfluffles?"

"The crystal ponies have certainly gotten to you, now haven't they?"

"I'm sorry."

He shakes his head in mock disapproval. "I'm too late, aren't I?"

"You betcha!" I glance at the clock hanging on the wall, hands moving in silence. "Hey, Uncle Sombra, do you want anything to eat? I know you're not a big eater but I promised Shiny I was going to make dinner today."

"I'm not hungry but-"

"Do you know if Auntie Luna would be hungry?"

"Do you want me to go and ask her?"

"No, I want you to help me make a proper dinner! Yesterday, Luna told me you can cook-"

"I only make things for Luna."

"Alright, then go ask her. If she says yes, meet me in the ship's kitchen. You know where it is, don't you?"

"I'm aware of its location and I suppose that this one time could be an exception..."

"Good, then go!"



...



Sombra poured the thawed contents of the bag of frozen vegetables into the pot of boiling water with as much enthusiasm as the average goldfish shows for arguments on the nature of life. I look up from the instructions printed on a discarded package. I hadn't really been reading them since I knew how to cook vegetables - there wasn't any way that my mother would have let be enter school as a filly without being able to come up with eight uses for olive oil in one minute. I wasn't sure how Sombra knew how to cook.

"Uncle Sombra?"

"Yes?"

"No 'Yes, Best Niece'?"

"Quit pushing it and just ask your question, Adequate Niece."

I giggle and set the empty packaging down. "How did you learn to cook?"

"Chemistry."

"You're kidding?"

He doesn't look up. "No, I'm not. I figured that cooking couldn't be that different. One day I bothered to do more than simply boil, thaw, or heat something for me to eat. Plus, I'm good at making poisons, so I can't see why I couldn't make something that wouldn't kill me."

His blunt tone has become a little less surprising as I've gotten to know him, but I still find it funny how he'll deliver some statements without anything to soften they way he speaks.

"I don't suppose that there's any spooky demon magic behind your cooking ability?"

The next bag of vegetables that he tore fell to the floor, the contents spilling out and rolling across the metallic surface while Sombra's widened eyes stared straight at something only he could see.

"Don't ever say that to me again."

Biting my lip, I lift a few frozen peas off the ground. "Are you alright...?"

"It's not right when you say it," Sombra mumbles, looking away.

"Sorry, Uncle Sombra. I just thought that-"

"Only she's allowed to say it."

He storms out of the kitchen still mumbling something about demon racism while I keep levitating the assortment of vegetables from the floor. I may never hear or see much of those two being particularly affectionate, but Sombra letting Luna do that? It says a lot about how much she means to him and with them sharing a bond like that, all of us might be able to pull through this.



...



Everypony - Sombra excepted - stared at the large meal laid out on the long table of the Pink Sunset's dining hall. Light from the evening sky dimmed as Luna finished raising the moon from inside the ship, her eyes clearly locked on a nearby plate of corn bread. When she was done, she slid into the seat next to Sombra, who was busy levitating crumbs and tidbits from different plates into the floating bubble of his pet fish to see what it would eat and ignore.

The two chairs at either end of their side of the table sat empty, and this was mirrored on the side Shiny and I occupied too. Once Luna sat down, everypony started eating. I hummed a little, spooning some tomato soup from the ship's pantry into a smaller bowl, sprinkling a little bit of cheese over it, just how I like it. While I was blowing softly to cool it down while watching Sombra debating whether to dump a spoonful of mashed potatoes into coffee - which appeared to be the only thing he wanted to try.

After Shining Armor watched Sombra decide that this was a good idea and of course nothing could go wrong, he gave me an apologetic smile and swiped a few pieces of corn bread before getting up and heading out the door and returning to the pilot's part of the gondola. I nodded in understanding and watched Auntie Luna gingerly relieve a large bowl of some of its salad.

"Auntie Luna said that you were a vegan in her letters, is that true?"

Sombra looked up at me briefly, but I didn't see much interest in his expression. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"No, it's just that I recall Twilight mentioning that you ate a slice of apple pie. Regular apple pie."

"I did, once. There wasn't anything else for me to eat. It was disgusting and far too crumbly." He focuses on something outside as if to signal the conversation was over.

Most ponies - myself included - might be made a little uncomfortable by a lack of conversation at a family meal like this. I would have expected two ponies who care about each other so much to say something.

And then I remembered that these two are antisocial weirdos.

They are likely drawn together because they are antisocial weirdos.

I don't even bother to sigh or attempt to find out if one of them will answer any questions about what happened between the letters I wrote to them. There isn't much of a point in trying to converse when I swear the quick glances that these two give one another between sips of coffee and bites to eat is some kind of language only they know.

So I just sit and watch them, sipping soup and trying to pin down some exact meaning behind their movements. It's awfully boring but I can't manage to think of anything else. I haven't seen these two in almost a year, and here they are, almost non-verbal. Neither of them shows much interest in acknowledging my presence either and they carried on with their quirky little routine until Luna had cleared a third of the table and finally excuses herself with a nod and says a quick 'thank you' to me.

Sombra watches her slip away, eyes communicating something only she knew the answer to. It isn't long before he finishes the rest of his coffee and rises from his seat without a word.

I'm left staring at half a bowl of cold soup and wondering what they said.
> Chapter 36: Et tu, Cadance?
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Celestia sighed tucked another strand of her mane aside, using her gold aura to move the strands that had fallen in her face back to their usual place, covering one of her eyes, both of which were now bearing noticeable signs of fatigue. A clock ticked on the wall of her quiet, airy study. She had various places that could be called her study, but this one was more soothing ones. Walls of soft lavender and white gleamed in daylight and tapestries in warm shades of purple and orange lay still on the walls. Snow painted the land outside in streaks, hundreds of flakes in a flurry wind blowing by now and then, the sun's light still managing to shine through into the tower room.

She hadn't realized that one of her hooves was tapping in time to the clock. She bit her lip and pushed the papers in front of her aside as well, taking care to stack them neatly after removing them from her immediate focus until they blended into the neatness of the room.

Requests from ponies could not distract her, and while they would require her attention at some point, they were of no use now. Something more important would need her focus. These intervals were of little help in crafting any kind of plan - ponies ought to not test boundaries in such a time. Eventually, she would run out of problems and questions from common ponies who were of far more concern to her than Blueblood's further inquiries into who the anonymous lunatic burning his perfect topiaries was. Property damage done by some unimportant arsonist was not as dire as a still-missing goddess.

Needing no signal or further hesitation Celestia moved a neat stack of plates aside. They amounted to exactly twelve. All were from the last three hours, though the sandwiches, baked goods, and other snacks on them were gone.

Once this was done, Celestia shook her head. Stress eating? She couldn't recall the last time she had done that - which was somewhat unusual. Her memory was an impeccable record of neat lines dictating happenings and schedules that seemed  ridiculous for her to diverge from, if the thought had occurred to her. Thankfully, the only effect of this choice - one that she had become used to in recent months to the point of making it unconsciously - would be a boost in the energy she could use to raise the sun.

As she levitated a thick tower of books and folders overstuffed with various newspapers, letters, and other documents - many written by the princess herself - Celestia's gaze caught some nondescript shadow on the wall.

Will I have to raise the moon again as well?

Hearth's Warming Day had been Tartarus itself for her this year. She had spent months putting and pulling off the mask of composure as needed and counting the numerous bouts of worry when her breathing was ragged and shallow at thoughts of what had been and what might be to the point where even her panic had withered into something ugly that she did her best to trim down, minimize and hide away.

But that moment when the moon had not risen had been something horrible. She had thought that maybe Luna had simply been a little late or that her own experiences - which she doubted were pleasant ones - had drained her and caused her sleep in. Or maybe she had been hurt-

And that invasive, constant thought had slipped passed the fragile barrier she wished to maintain - if only so she could maintain the composure her ponies needed her to have so she could help them - and the chain reaction, and explosive bout of panic had cracked something-

-and she found herself crying alone on a snowy Hearth's Warming Day, wanting only a signal of dawn's coming as a reassurance of Luna's safety - that wherever she was in the world, she would be and could be okay and that she was spared the aching relapse of longing to see her sister that burdened Celestia once more.

It had been the final straw. Strange reports of slumber and dreams of airships from Rarity and Twilight - along with a concerning recollection of Luna, her eyes carrying the near-infinite worry that her slim frame could not, pleading for a peaceful solution to a problem that slipped past Rarity's knowing - had been another large step in the direction of... somewhere. Even the letters they sent carried no speculations that ever went past being a vague timeline of events.

Twilight and Rarity had met Luna - they Sky Scraper was described too perfectly in Rarity's dreams for it to not be so - and there somepony had meddled with their minds and weaving spells of enchanted slumber, and they had done so heartlessly. With the added detail of an eye of fire scrawled onto the papers sent to her, Celestia had no doubt in her mind who brainwashed her poor student and her marefriend.

Celestia began to set up her research, flipping to whatever pages she had left on and arranging documents as she was sure she ordered them the day before. Magical research and knowledge was not among her strength, nor was honed power, but she would be damned if she didn't try to do something.

Books of advanced navigation and travel magic spilled across the large table she sat at. Between them were highlighted maps, too small to form a true layout of the world. Instead, the incomplete collage of coastlines, ocean currents, and various territories within the southern nations served as a quilt of places they could be and might have been...

To Celestia, it was nearly uncanny how the possible path of the Sky Scraper was able to elude the rescue effort Celestia had sent. They must have been going north or west... but there was also the possibility of Sombra taking Luna to the barren south seas - maybe in a bizarre attempt to flee to the West with a hostage? A test subject? Celestia truly wasn't sure exactly what sadistic motive that Sombra had for abducting Luna and any speculation into such a matter yielded no results beyond Celestia shuddering at cold that wasn't there and trying in vain to refocus on whatever was in front of her.

She had scried the Sky Scraper yesterday, only to be presented with dark blurs and glassy reflections only made hazier from the distance and uncertainty of her spell's strength. Once it had failed, she had tried to scry her sister, which wasn't something she thought she could fail. All she had to do was conjure any kind of physical image of Luna and recall her presence, after that she need only to add any details she would know in order to increase the precision of the spell.

It had not been pleasant to imagine what Luna could be going through. There was crushing loneliness, confusion, panic, and deep sadness that could be plaguing her. When that failed Celestia reluctantly allowed herself to draw a glassy-eyed Luna, too statue-like and cold to look like her sister truly was, hints of dark aura flickering madly in her eyes. That, too did not succeed. Celestia tried using the semblance of an angry Luna, eyes filled with magic from the heavens as well as an ill Luna.

Each detailed mental phantom, made so perfect for scrying, fell apart as soon as the spell was released and she got nothing.

Trying to cast Sombra's image so it might be reflected back to her through an aura-wrought mirror was somewhat easier. The exact subtleties of his appearance had never found their way into her memory properly, so she was left with what she looked like upon last seeing him and how he styled himself as a king, armor-clad with a elements of a warlord's helmet clearly seen in his crown.

And then she need only to think of a sadistic smile or unequine fangs flashing with as he angrily shouted and brooding mask that hid impulsivity and recklessness... a defiance that stoked some kind of resentment within her colder side when she thought of all those he had hurt: Twilight Sparkle, the crystal ponies, and now on the list among so many names and simple casualties in his eyes... Luna, her dear sister.

Yet even this turned up no results. It was as if the Sky Scraper, Luna, and the tyrant had managed to disappear from the world.

But now, Celestia simply looked over maps, her roaming eyes to trained to appear frantic and her behavior restrained except for the slightest ways she moved: an awkward swallow, a rolling of her withers to hide a tic as elegantly as possible, a seamless smile to sew a worried frown shut tight. There were too many places to go. Too many places to be. Too many possibilities. There was no here and there, only everywhere many times over. The vastness of her world wasn't something that struck a chord with Celestia right now.

She needed a clue.

She was so worn from waiting and fretting, and even she could sense that some kind of action must be taken.

There had to be something that could narrow her search, but Celestia was sure that nothing had been overlooked and she had only checked all the letters and alleged sightings - everything she had been mailed - from the first word to the last roughly twenty-some times, having to relinquish sleep every now and then in order to balance this frantic work with... well, balancing Equestria.

Thus, she was absolutely certain nothing within the past few months could have been overlooked under her careful eye. Tiredly, Celestia blinked one heavily lashed eye as something fell on her muzzle, bouncing onto a map of Maretonia's coastline from there. It was a kernel of popcorn. She smiled a little more, brushed the food away with her hoof and looked up to the high ceiling of the place, ignoring - and to the best of her ability, hiding - the slight watery feeling she had in her eyes when they met the light of her sun. It was nothing for her to worry about - not to her.

"Hello, Discord," Celestia said pleasantly, all traces of tiredness hidden from her guest. "Is there any chance I would be able to help you with something?"

He traced a claw around the rim of his popcorn bowl. "That would be unlikely; however, I might be able to help you with something."

"You can?" Celestia dare not let her barely-present hope show itself to be unrestrained in her tone.

Discord shifted the bowl, his paw flicking a few pieces of the snack across the room, though he did not notice. "You're worrying about Luna again."

Celestia's face remained mostly impassive, only the slight way she bit her lip betrayed her unshakable feelings of worry.

"I am," she said quietly.

"And you did try to scry her?"

"Many times."

Discord let out a surprisingly humorless chuckle. "You always bite your lip like that whenever you think she might be getting into trouble."

Fiddling with a nearby pen in her magic, Celestia let out another sigh. "I suppose I do."

"You always have."

"She's always been a hoofful, Discord." Dropping the pen, Celestia rolled up a paper detailing an unbelievable sighting of Luna in Prance and tossed it at the draconequus floating above her. His grin widened, but he effortlessly batted the ball away with his tail.

"Yes, she certainly has been. It's impossible for her not to impose her little-sister antics on everypony."

"Are you suggesting that Luna will try to pout until King Sombra submits to her will?"

"It isn't exactly impossible..."

"He's a nothing more than a brute, and an arrogant one at that. A childish gesture would not move him."

"It's still not impossible..."

"You and I both know that Luna only lets her mischievousness show if she trusts somepony greatly and believes they won't mock her for her behavior. King Sombra is not a pony that she would ever try to open up to."

"But-"

Celestia gave Discord a look telling him that while his contributions were appreciated, his interruption was not. "Even if she made the mistake of trusting him - one I would not blame her for - he is not a misunderstood creature, like a timberwolf or some other outcast creature that can be seen in a compassionate light. He is not one to harbor any kind of sensitive tendencies or wounds that would stir Luna's compassion for the strange."

"He is truly that cruel in nature?"

Letting some exhaustion show, Celestia nodded and kept her head bowed out of tiredness. "The things he has done are unforgivable. Hundreds of crystal ponies both young and old were slain by him, and he felt nothing but glee in doing so."

"If he is such a bloodthirsty fellow, then wouldn't Luna be able to trick him?" Discord suggested, stroking his chin with his paw, brow furrowed in thought.

"Trick him how? He is to set in his ways that he even denied my offers of reformation. King Sombra seeks only destruction of life by any means that bring him pleasure."

"Did you try and imagine how she is emotionally when you scried her?"

"Yes, Discord. Many times but nothing worked. I tried to imagine her sad, sick, angry, lost, and other things... there was still nothing."

"What about imagining her happy?"

"Happy?" Celestia asked, the disbelief and confusion in her voice mixing with fatigue.

"You did speculate she might be under the influence of mind controlling magic, yes? What if she was being forced to stay happy?"

"What good would that do to her captor? The last thing he would allow Luna is happiness."

"It would be a simple enough trick. He is powerful, isn't he? I've never met this Sombra character but you certainly make him out to be dangerous. Is mind control within his power?"

"Mind control is easy for him, but he has had many opportunities for sneak attacks and trickery in that regard - however futile most plans imagined by him would likely be - yet has never acted upon any of those chances. I don't believe he has ever tried to trick others often, with the exception of when I had cornered him on the last day he was mortal and when he was able to charm Cadance into thinking he was worthy of a title."

The princess' eyes stared duly at the array of papers and books in front of her, worry bleeding past disguised exhaustion.

"If anything happens to her, it'll be all my fault..." A few tears slip down Celestia's cheek, and she wipes a couple of them a way with a hoof. "What kind of a sister am I?"

Discord wasted no time in conjuring a box of tissues and passing them to Celestia, who refused by bowing her head and swallowing, even if her throat already felt tight.

"Maybe she escaped and is on her way home? He may be immortal, but he doesn't sound very smart from what you say - just powerful and cruel. If that's true then, I'm sure she could have managed to slip away from him."

"Perhaps..." Celestia whispered. She would have said more, but a letter burst into existence, magenta sparks declaring the identity of the sender before she even opened it.

On Hearth's Warming Eve, Princess Celestia had received a lovely gift from Shining Armor and Cadance... two gifts to be exact: a painting of the sunrise over the south Germane shore and a package of tulip bulbs. The latter had struck her as something Luna might get her. Nopony else knew Celestia loved gardening and the sweet scent of flowers more than Luna. However this certainly did not appear the card with a written message of well-wishing she would expect to receive during the holidays.

She lifted the heavy yellow envelope and broke the seal on it - the double-crest of Twilight and Rarity easily giving away to her magic - and began to read, her expression crumpling to disbelief as she read every word.

"Cadance?! No, no, no it can't be Cadance and Shining, they would never-"

"Celestia, what is it? Did something-"

"It's Sombra! They-" Celestia let out a heaving breath verging on a sob before managing to go on. "Twilight and Rarity found Cadance and Shining in his company in Ponemünde... there was another mare there-"

"King Sombra was just walking around Ponemünde in broad daylight?" Discord asked incredulously. 

"No, he was disguised... but this other mare..."

"You think she might be Luna?"

"In disguise," Celestia added quietly. "Yet the description of the mare Twilight gives is not a disguise that Luna would usually adopt and..."

Celestia's ears flop down and her voice looses the strength it had carried thus far.

Discord frowns and plucks the letter from her magic, squinting at the paper.

"Cadance and Possibly-Luna looked happy in the company of this stallion? Shining Armor however looked reserved and... Hmm... they left after a brief fight that consisted of Twilight firing... and this Sombra character didn't let Cady get hurt when she stood directly in the spell's path? I thought you said he would willingly let others die to ensure his survival."

"He would, even if he had to make them," she muttered darkly.

"He didn't do that. In fact, Twilight wrote that Cadance was the first one to try running and- Wait, why were these two in Ponemünde?"

"That's an answer that I'm starting to fear, Dissy."

Discord huffed slightly at the nickname and tossed the papers on the table, where the envelope they were torn from lay.

"Celestia, what do you think happened? How did Sombra and Luna even get there? Doesn't that seem like-"

"Too much to be luck? Yes, it does."

"Maybe Luna and King Sombra learned about Ponemünde from papers on the ship-"

"Twilight says Cadance and King Sombra almost appeared to be friends, or at the very least more than a little familiar with one another."

Discord offered nothing in reply, choosing to whistle softly and look out the window.

"I don't think Twilight and Rarity had anything to do with this," Celestia said with certainty.

"Why not?"

"King Sombra doesn't know the spell that would take him to the Pantheon's floor. Both Twilight and Cadance were given that spell shortly after their respective coronations."

Celestia was unusually quiet, letting her silence allow Discord to fill in the blanks.

"...You think pretty pink Cadance somehow managed to betray you? For a dark overlord?"

"Yes," Celestia managed, voice low. "But I can't fathom why. I've known Cadance since she was a young mare and she's a loving, kind, though occasionally naive mare... but after what King Sombra did to Twilight I cannot see why or how they must have kept contact..."

Her voice trailed off, and Celestia's eyes widened with dawning horror.

"What if... Cadance and King Sombra never broke contact?"

Waving away another bowl of popcorn Discord gave Celestia a skeptical look. "Why would that happen? I don't ever remember your precious pupils-turned-princesses keeping secrets or getting themselves in circumstances like this. Well-" He lifted a claw to his chin with consideration. "Do you suppose Cady might have been blackmailed?"

Celestia scoffed lightly, but not patronizingly. "Blackmailed with what, Discord? King Sombra is a crystal pony colt poorly transformed into a unicorn, and he was never an observant youth. While I do not doubt he has power above an average unicorn  - Luna and I have seen the proof - he is not some almighty being... just an incredibly reckless one who seeks to abuse power in order to abuse ponies, which has led him to take..."

She shook her head when she felt she had spoken enough.

"...It is no longer far-fetched to say that Cadance-" Celestia struggled to conceal a few tears making their way down her face and swallow properly. Her voice was barely audible as she forced out the last few words. "-has betrayed me, the rest of her family, all of Equestria, and the Crystal Empire that she swore to protect."

Discord's paw paused in the air, subdued interest and obvious alarm showing in his expression. "How do you plan to respond to this...?"

Celestia looked down, saying nothing at all, her silence communicating what she currently would not: too much time had passed for anything to be truly done now that Luna was too far away for anypony of the ability required to deal with the situation.

She had been fooled. Her own niece, a spy.

There were no plans that would help them immediately, Celestia needed time and careful calculations, but the longer she waited the more the distance between her and Luna grew with each passing second. Only after this realization sunk in did Celestia begin to weep openly.
> Chapter 37: To the Mindscape and Back
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Shining Armor:


I wasn't sure what conclusion I was supposed to come to about King Som- err, Sombra. Just Sombra. He wasn't somepony that was very easy to read and he didn't speak much. Nopony has a consistent opinion on him. Princess Celestia sees him as an enemy, and so does Twily. Cady sees him as a friend. Princess Luna... well, it was impossible to deny that she was into him. Even if it weren't for those two sharing a cabin it wouldn't take a Princess of Love to know that there was something going on between them.

Princess Luna was something different entirely. I didn't know her very well. Nopony did. Well, nopony except Princess Celestia and even she confided in Cady and I a couple of times that Luna was... elusive. The few times I spoke to her before were always odd. She wasn't friendly or sociable, but she was never rude. She made no effort to go out of the way to converse with anypony unless she wanted to ask a question or get something across. I had never once seen her look happy... until I saw her smiling at Sombra, but I had never seen her saddened either. She was reserved - too reserved for me to like her much.

However, once I caught her sparring with some kind of construct she created. I didn't get much of a look before she finished the job. I would not want to be on the end of any blade she wields - especially when I heard her say she had only been warming up. That... That had not been warming up!

The only thing that made me uncomfortable around her was I didn't know how old she was. I know she's an ageless goddess... but she felt too ageless. Celestia always felt like a mother or an aunt... you ask anypony on the street of any Equestrian city and they'd look at you strange if you said otherwise. Even I had taken to calling her 'Aunt Celestia' on occasion. But Princess Luna? I know she's the younger sister... but how young is she? If she's an immortal goddess then how come she feels like my junior at times?

Sombra wasn't just confusing or completely insane. He was also one of the most perplexing - if somewhat disturbing individuals - I knew. This was mostly because when he changed into a shadow he could walk through walls. Did I really need anything else to doubt his status as equine when he could do that? Cady said not to call him anything but a pony to his face but...

...When he casually walks through the walls of the gondola  and looks like he owns the place and then acts like the only strange thing in this room is the fact that 'To Tartarus and Back' is playing from a portable phonograph that I had set up here.

He quickly decides that I'm not worth acknowledging and his gaze travels to the instruments framing the frontmost windows of Pink Sunset. I hide a swallow and just focus on any telltale signs of aggression he might show - but all I catch is that he really looks as if he could care less about my existence. Oh, and he appears to be chewing gum. Alright then.

"Can I help you with something?"

Briefly, I catch his eyes flick to the phonograph before he lets his gaze rest on me. I can't quite make out any clear intent or expression beyond slight disdain. 

"What's that?" He nods once toward the phonograph and I release the my magic's hold on the ship's wheel.

"A phonograph." You can leave now.

"I know what a phonograph is. Do you think I'm stupid?"

I think you hurt my sister. "No. What is it you want?"

Please leave.

"What's the noise coming from it?"

"Huh? Have you never heard music before?"

"Once or twice? It was always fleeting." He shrugs and grinds the gum between his teeth in thought. "I've never heard music like that."

"Really? You honestly seem like the sort who would like power metal."

"What metal?" Sombra looks around for something that isn't there. I know it would be rude, so I restrain from laughing at his lack of knowledge on something so basic.

"It's the name of the type of music you hear. I'm still surprised that you of all ponies wouldn't be into this after spending a few years here."

"Excuse me for not considering the music of the future the most important thing to look into."

"Ah. Gotcha. So was that what you were here for? To ask about music?"

"Oooh, in a defensive mood are we? No, I didn't come to ask about your music; I'm here because I'd actually like to listen to it and so I can figure out how to fly-"

"Stop right there. You're like one thousand years old and a convicted felon-"

"Actually, I'm only a partially convicted felon."

"That's pretty much the same thing. You're a nutcase older than all of my grandparents combined-"

"Has anypony ever told you not to so flippantly discuss the ages of others?"

"Does it really matter if you're... well, in the condition that you are?"

"And that condition is 'absolutely stunning', I presume? Why, thank you!"

"But-"

Sombra doesn't even bother to disguise his amusement. "But I certainly look good for my age? Believe me, I'm very aware of this, though the compliment is certainly appreciated. Anything else you'd like to add?"

"You-"

"Are truly striking? I know, I know.You really are quite the flatterer aren't you?"

Is this supposed to be malicious? "Are you really that full of yourself?"

He snorts as if my question were as silly as something a young foal might ask an archmage. "Hardly, I have far more pride than that. What's it to you?"

That's it, this guy's going to get Cady and I killed. "It isn't anything to me, but do you really think that I'll be letting you fly this ship?"

"Of course I don't expect you to let me - not without any persuasion. Though, if you really insist on me not flying, then we can do that."

Okay, how to entertain a demon. Well... maybe if I just give him something shiny he'll be distracted. I pluck a glittering trinket - some light catching crystal - and toss it to Sombra, who catches it quickly in his magic. I do notice that his aim was a bit off. Perhaps he had suffered an eye injury some time ago, I wasn't sure.

Sombra looks at the trinket and says nothing but decides that sitting in the middle of the floor can't be a bad idea and does so, batting the crystal - which was probably somepony's good luck charm - with a forehoof.

I returned to the wheel and tried to focus on two things: flying Pink Sunset and keeping track of Sombra. He wasn't somepony I could trust, so keeping an eye on him was a necessity. He was surprisingly quiet for such an arrogant loudmouth. I let my curiosity get the better of me, and turned around to see what he was doing and found Sombra reading a book. He didn't exactly look calm or peaceful - just aloof - but I think he was enjoying what he was reading. Do demons ever read anything interesting?

"So... you like to read?"

He nods. That's it. He just nods. No eye contact or anything.

"What do you like to read?"

"Almost anything."

"Alrighty."

"You're a poor conversationalist," he observes dryly, still never taking his eyes off the page. I don't like his eyes very much - it seems like all he does is stare at things in disapproval with those freaky red eyes of his.  Absolutely no pony has red eyes. Nopony has a curved horn like his either but when he looks at somepony it's instant discomfort, so avoiding his gaze is usually the only safe option. I wish he could be disguised more often, if only so I could get a break from those eyes.

Sombra wordlessly flips a page and I return to looking out Pink Sunset's windows and the sea of clouds rolling by.

"So, Sombra..."

"What is it?" he snaps.

"What in Tartarus was that for? You didn't even let me finish."

Behind me I hear a scoffing noise and another page turning.

"You're incredibly rude, you know."

"Does stupidity run in your family?"

"See, this is exactly what I mean. How are you ever going to have any friends or fit in with anypony if you just insult them? What exactly do you aim to accomplish by acting like this?"

"Are you truly curious to why I behave the way I do?"

"Not really. I just can't see how you think this is ever going to get you anywhere."

"If you aren't curious, you'll learn nothing."

I frown and try to concentrate on the sound of power metal. It had been three songs since Sombra entered the wheelhouse and I was no closer to learning any weaknesses or anything about him.

"Do you really think that you're right?"

In the window, Sombra's reflection only looks humored. "Do you?"

Gods, he's so self-absorbed... "Does anypony even like you?"

"Pink One and Luna."

"Her name is Cadance."

"That's nice."

Why didn't Cady ever mention him taunting her like that? I think she might have mentioned an affectionate nickname that he gave her, but I can imagine this guy showing anypony any affection beyond not insulting them. How charming.

"Have you ever been nice to anypony?"

He shrugs and I can't say I'm surprised by the response. Does he think he's too good for a proper response?

"What do you do then?"

"What do you mean? Are you asking what my hobbies are?"

"No, I want to know what you do to contribute to society."

"That's easy: I don't. Now what else do you plan to interrogate me about? Do you need to see my identification and inquire to where my mother lives?"

"I thought you didn't have a mother."

"I don't."

Well... maybe that's why he's like this. With nopony to take care of them - even if they were a demon who's unlikely to have ever known foalhood - anypony... or anydemon, I guess... is bound to end up incredibly screwed up. Though, I guess he could have always ended up worse than what he is.

"Umm... okay. Gotcha."

"Are you always this awkward in conversation?"

"I don't normally half to hold back calling the other party a ruthless and cold-blooded bastard, so no."

"Well, I am a bastard, which makes one out of three, at the very least. Care to try again? I'm sure you can come up with another round. 'Ruthless' is certainly something I am too, but I'll give you another chance."

A bastard, huh? "I thought you didn't have any family."

"I don't."

"So then how can you be a bastard?" I hold back a smile and keep my magic steady. Surely, I've got him now.

"That's exactly why I'm a bastard. I lack any family - specifically parents. As I remember that is the only qualification: to have no parents, be disinherited by one's parents, or some similar thing."

"But-"

"Shut up, I'm the one true bastard and you know it."

"How can you be proud of not having any family?"

"How can you be proud of having one?"

Gritting my teeth, I decide to return to focusing on anything but Sombra. Everything about this guy is bad news. He's aggressive, has no qualms about saying anything, is just downright bizarre, violent, and doesn't act like anypony else... I honestly think he might be up to something; he's far too selfish not to be planning something. Did Princess Luna promise to pay him something? Was he offered some kind of treasure?

I really don't know. Cady said he was a jerk, but also more than that. She said he had been through some things and wasn't as guilty as history would suggest. Even though she told me that somepony had used him and wronged him before, I can't see anything beyond some monster who hurt my sister and shouldn't be regarded with anything other than the weight of the horrible reputation surrounding him. Is he supposed to be any help at all, because I can't see him doing anything beyond refusing to listen to any kind of established rules. He barely makes any effort to talk to anypony other than Princess Luna, so I can't describe him as anything other than rude and reclusive. Or maybe he just feels entitled - if he was as young as Cady said he was when he took power he probably developed some kind of royal brat attitude... even if he doesn't look like he even wants to be considered royal. 

"You honestly struck me as a more talkative sort," Sombra says from his place on the floor.

"How'd you figure that?"

"I copied a good deal of your sister's memories."

I wanted to scream at him and ask him what he thinks allows him to do these things to others. Gods, I bet he enjoys what he does too. What does he see when he hurts ponies? How could he look at Twily and ever want to hurt her if he wasn't as heartless as I see him to be? 

"Do you have any second thoughts about what you say?"

"If you're suggesting I speak without thinking, then you're mistaken."

"You have a witty retort for everything, don't you?" I wish he'd shut his smart mouth...

"Don't I have to at least try for it to be considered truly witty?"

He goes against everything I believe in. He hurt my family, my subjects... and I think I've tolerated him long enough.

My horn glows with the magenta aura my sister and I share and I whirl around, a single intent on my mind and a stun spell on my horn. Sombra's eyes meet mine for a split-second and I swear that I see his irises shine with the same light as his horn-



...



I did not wake up in Pink Sunset's wheelhouse or any other part of the airship. Around me, all I could see was a ring of color, like that of a target. I drew a deep breath and tried to look around more, having to rise slowly to keep steady and push all shock back while I looked around me.

I was standing on what certainly looked like the surface of an endless target stretching as far as my eyes could see... Swallowing, I pushed aside what little nervousness I still had and kept my eyes on the horizon.

My ears pricked to catch what sounded like the last refrain the song in the wheelhouse-

What should I do next? I'd always been the kind of pony who makes a plan and then goes with the flow of where my objectives take me, doing everything point by point in order to build a bigger picture. Unlike Twily, I didn't fret over every minor things. Small details added up to a larger picture - a final goal - but it took many milestones to get there. But here, I couldn't see any plans to form or anypony to count on for help. There was nothing but dark blue beneath my hooves and black behind me.

At least I still have my armor.

...Except I don't think it's going to be much use here, wherever this is.

I look around again, peering past non-existent obstructions. If this was anything like a target, then there would be a center. Perhaps this place was some sort of riddle - one with something waiting for me at the center. I closed my eyes in order to meditate on what to do. There wasn't anything to guide me in the proper direction other than these bands of color - which were incredibly wide and hard to follow, so there was a strong possibility I could end up lost. No matter what I did, I felt no winds or heard any other sounds. This strange place was barren of any landmarks, and I found this frustrating. One of the first things drilled into every new recruit's head is that if you're in unfamiliar territory, always try to find a landmark to guide you... but there weren't any here!

Back when I was only given minor missions on the neighboring mountains around Mt. Canterhorn - the ones without private estates or airship docks - for scouting practice I always had a knife with me - it was standard equipment for anypony starting in the Guard, after all - to mark things with in case I got lost. It paid off too, since I often had to go back to find others who had gotten lost.

Suddenly, I hear a whooshing noise and feel air brush by me, carrying something that gets stuck in the ground - I feel it land somewhere in front of me and open my eyes to find a knife.

It's not just any knife either. I'm looking at my old knife - minus the sheath, of course - from when I was a private. The silver blade was there, as shiny as it was when I first was given it and my initials - S.A. - were chipped into the gold hilt by none other than me. Attached to the hilt was the lanyard in pink and blue that Cady made me... the same one she was so upset I lost ages ago... which led her to show me how good she was at the magic Princess Celestia taught her by chucking the thing off Canterhorn Mountain and not getting pecans on the ice cream she bought me to make up for the 'accident', insisting I was just a vanilla and rainbow sprinkles guy. With the exception of anything Sombra has said to me, that was the biggest insult I had ever received.

Even if somepony were around, I still wouldn't know what to say, so I just laughed lowly. Nervously.

I couldn't have imagined it better if I were in my own mind.

Whatever peace of mind this familiar sight brought vanished when my horn wouldn't light in order to pick up my knife.

I blinked, slowly trying to take this all in and calm down so I could think clearly. Panicking wouldn't help me right now - I shouldn't even be thinking about it this early on, but perhaps being here was getting to me. My horn wouldn't light the second time I tried. There may not have been anypony to hide my worry from, but I still wouldn't let it show, even in this empty space. I tried a third time, but still felt next to nothing... my magic died before I even mustered it, my horn felt unused each time. If I hadn't been the one trying to use magic, then I would have sworn I was standing still...

Before I could consider a fourth try, I gave up on trying to spark any magic and just reached out with my forehoof to remove it from where it was embedded in the ground when another hoof smacks mine away.

"You are not cool enough to touch things."



...



"You mean to tell me that I'm in my own mind?" I asked incredulously.

"I've only told you seven times, so you can tell I must not be very serious about what I say." Sombra's tone was as dry as a desert and he didn't even bother to look at me when he spoke, instead twirling the knife in his magic, eyes never leaving the blade.

"Who's flying the ship?"

"Nopony."

Gods, I wanted to shake him and get something other than these blunt responses, but of course I just watched him. "Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?"

"Do you really think that I'm unaware of that and wouldn't have done something-"

"What did you do?!" I moved so I was standing directly in front of him, blocking any way forward he had. I doubt I could succeed in intimidating him, but I could try.

He looked at me like I were a cockroach or some other thing he found despicable. "Don't ever interrupt me again," he growled.

That growl was proof that he was violent - that there was something that kept him from being a pony and a wholly unsettling aspect of his nature was ready to emerge at a moment's notice. My instinct to shy away got the better of me, and I backed off. It proved to be the smart thing to do - his hostility lessened, even if I would have wished for it to vanish entirely this was still better than earning his anger.

"...Why is it that you can still use magic in here and I can't?"

Sombra blinks tiredly, like somepony who has spent too much time trying to explain simple concepts to foals they had no patience for. "You are using magic, how is it you think that this place exists? Well, that's not how I'd correctly explain it, but you aren't worth the time for a correct explanation so that will have to do. I can use magic because I'm the one who brought you here, idiot."

He's certainly not to be trifled with. There's no way I'm going to risk angering him with so many things that could possibly go wrong.

"Is there any good reason you brought me here?"

"Have you forgotten how you tried to attack me?" Sombra stops twirling the knife - which I can now guess to be something my mind conjured - and stares at me meaningfully and making sure to chew his gum in the most judgemental way possible. If he was aiming for making me uncomfortable, he certainly succeeded.

"So... what kind of gum is that?"

His expression remains the same and when he speaks again it is with an obvious monotone as if his expression couldn't clue me in to his boredom. "Spearmint."

"Ah." Demons chewing gum. Makes sense. Yup. "You are going to let me out of here, aren't you?"

"I assure you that it was my plan all along to remain in here for all eternity with you, bored within your mind," Sombra deadpans. After saying this, he finally tosses the knife aside and I turn my head, watching the familiar memento soar and eventually skid across the surface of the surreal landscape. In the polished surface, I caught the glimpse of images of things that had been - afternoons spent reading with my sister, a date with Cady from years ago...

"Was this just a precaution of yours to show off your power?"

Sombra smiled a small smile, and a cold one at that. It vanished almost as soon as it appeared. "Not in the slightest, but it was one of the first things I thought to do. I'm still getting used to this ability after all."

"Can't I leave?"

"Not unless I let you."

"Well then, will you please let me?"

"You aren't even going to bother to make any attempt to overpower me?"

"With what?"

"Did I ever say you couldn't use magic?"

Was that important? My forehooves shift with anticipation of being in Pink Sunset's wheelhouse again. "You... implied it, I think?"

"Not at all, your magic isn't just going to take the same form it would elsewhere."

"How do you know this?" I question, trying to conceal some of my suspicion. He is still a demon and somepony who I can't place much trust in.

"I can feel it. Literally."

What, can this guy sense magic or something? "But you will let me out of here, won't you?"

"Of course. Do you think I'd want to stay in a place this dull forever? It truly does reflect you, if I must say so myself. And it isn't unexpected that you wouldn't want to learn something new."

"Why is that?"

"The lack of a thirst for knowledge runs in your family," Sombra says smugly, the next smile he flashes me, baring fangs that he must have been hiding all this time. I shudder and pull away, unable to think of anything but the wolf-like grin he wears and the insult that came before it. However, I don't have to look at him - or my own mind - for much longer because his horn lights up with crimson aura and everything begins to fade away...



...



Right in front of me is the wheel of Pink Sunset. While it may be a cliché statement, everything looked exactly as we had left it - only the soft background noise of metal betrayed any change - the song currently playing was a few lines ahead from where I remembered it being. The sun had not moved in the sky and even the clouds looked the same, even though I'm certain at least a few minutes should have elapsed...

...And Sombra was right next to the wheel, smugly chewing his gum and looking down at me. Literally; he was the taller between us.

"Can I help you with anything?"

"Yes," Sombra replies, as smug as ever as he flashes me that wolf-smile again.

"And?"

His gaze shifts to the wheel before returning to me.

"You want to fly the ship?" If he notices the uncharacteristic deadpan in my voice he doesn't say anything.

"Absolutely."

"Even though you're technically a terrorist?"

"Absolutely! Did you want me to add that I became involved with a 'business' family to your list?"

"...You're involved with the Mafia?!"

"Business," he corrects smoothly, "and I'm only a part timer."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I get an undeserved amount of respect and more flexible hours despite there being ponies with more seniority than me. That's about it. I don't really get paid or anything. At least, not in the traditional sense."

"What kind of mercenary doesn't like money?"

"Money isn't exactly very useful to me," he says with a shrug, "and it's flattering that you are aware of my profession, even if it is mostly a summer job - and one I happened to skip this year. When I wanted payment, I admit my request was a bit odd but was granted without much trouble."

Do I want to know what he asked for? Did he order the death of somepony or- My mind goes blank as I hold back a swallow and reach into the folds of his cloak with a quick flicker of magic and withdraw a small piece of what looks to be plastic, which he thrusts under my muzzle and I realize-

-it's a library card for Canterlot's public library, registered in his name. His actual name.

"I've always wanted one of these," he gushes, "As soon as I learned what they were, I knew I had to have one - and it even has my name and a rather dashing photographic portrait of me on it!"

"Y-You could have had gold, rare weapons, contraband, or some immense wealth-"

"There's no greater wealth than knowledge," Sombra scoffs.

"-and you somehow got a library card in your name instead?"

"It's not like I have any late fees or anything. What kind of monster do you think I am? Sure, it took a couple dozen death threats and a decent amount of bribes for this me to receive this and have it created under my own name but librarians - true, admirable librarians - are an organization all their own and let me have one once they learned I loved books and wouldn't do a thing to destroy them."

"I-I..." Dear gods, he almost sounds like Twilight... maybe that's why the didn't get along - part of them both knew they were alike... almost alike, at least. I don't think Twily could ever end up anything like Sombra.

"So captain, is this lovely identification of mine proof that I can fly this airship?"

He's trying to convince me to let him fly an airship... by showing me his library card...

"Well?" Sombra asks, looking expectant, mischief flashing in his eyes when he sees my reaction.

What even...

He twirls the library card and catches it in his magic without looking anywhere else, so I get a full view of his smug expression. "You know, I think you might amuse me after all. So how about it, then? Will you let me fly this ship?"

My forehoof meets my face and I mutter a few words to whichever goddess or god cares to listen, only giving Sombra an answer when I'm halfway to the wheelhouse's door:

"Knock yourself out."
> Chapter 38: A Different Kind of Light
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Luna:


Wind sliced past me as I flew, sending flashes of cold down my coat as I soared further into the dark world where I found myself. Even my own form was lost to this lightless place. The winds carried no smell but that of something warm, like a fire long forgotten. I wasted no movement and continued my flight with no words, but that detail troubled me. 

I did not need to close my eyes or pause to reflect upon memories of damage brought by untended flames. Fires burned down many structures and crops in the Tribal Era, and oftentimes the record of such events until the remain only in memories, like those of Celestia's and mine. Those recollections aside, I still remembered evenings when I sat around a campfire with my sister while she made the first steps to trying her hoof at the pyromancy she was so naturally inclined to, and the smell of smoke that came from the singed locks of her mane, her words of caution against playing with the fire as she did.  In later years, my sister's evenings around those campfires would pay off. Yet, I cannot say that she was ever comfortable with that aspect of her power, as I was with my lightning and storm magic.

As I glide into the depths of this void, I long to feel a colder wind, one that would chill me like the frozen north's arctic blasts and remind me that I can feel, so it might invigorate me. There was always beauty in such a savage, but necessary feeling that spawned such wonder alongside terror and discovery with such risk that came with putting oneself in danger.

Here, there was nothing but the knowledge that I could not rest, and that I was alone in my flight that could last forever. This did not trouble me; I had nowhere to go and nowhere to be, only the winds offered any hint of direction. Even they appeared to come from nowhere at all. Only the lack of terrain to vanish beneath me as well as diversity in surroundings offered no challenge, that would make this perfect. How could I not long to see the outlines of mountains in the dark, their jagged shapes rising from a ground that was not here and a sky that could not be?

I was alone, with nothing and nopony and it was delightful. If I did not treasure the silence here so much, I would have most certainly started laughing. Instead, I closed my eyes and dove into the dark, pulling my wings closer to my sides as I plunged into the shadows below, relishing the privacy that light steals.

I do not know how long it is that I fall - each second etches its way into my mind, but it is not my current focus and the information slips elsewhere - but the sound of the winds around me refuses to die. Cold air kisses my face, and I feel my thoughts start to come in images and senses rather than words, each following my heart's quickened beat and then-

I falter, my roaming mind forced to catch up with me as I arc up in horror, a creeping sensation touching my right wither, like ice-water trickling down my back. 

Letting out a gasp, I whirl around, catching the faint shimmer of my mane's outline in the dark as I see a ray of silvery light pierce my shadowed and lightless haven from somewhere far above. The brightness was not unnatural and glaring, my eyes did not ache when they looked at it. It was not like the relentless blaze of my sister's sun on a summer day in some sandy place, but there was some undeniable brilliance to the thing.

Transfixed by the sight, I fly in place with the sound of my near-silent wing beats distant even my own ears as I gaze upon the shaft of light that has made its way into my private world. How surprised I was to see it was not a harsh light, but something that seemed so much colder and far more inviting... I felt compelled to touch it, especially since if felt more magical in nature the longer I lingered near it.

Soon the light began to shift, softening its shape and altering its form until it was no longer a radiant beam. Now, a rabble of butterflies was before me; each delicate creature made from the same light, now gentler.

I watched the small creatures flutter around me like stars in this blackness. Even if they were not truly alive I was too lost in thought to think of them as anything else. Were they alive, I would have expected more nervousness from them at being in such a dark place where the shadows hid their world in a blanket of black that could hold all sorts of surprises - both good and potentially dangerous. But being made of this light, they did not think, which meant that they did not care.

I wanted to touch one.

I had to touch one...

Without a second thought about what I was currently compelled to do, I reached out one forehoof as delicately as possible, so I wouldn't damage the butterflies. They were not like any construct I had ever seen, for they moved too fluidly and felt more naturally than forcefully shaped magic. I tried to feel the wings of one-

-and it ended up feeling unlike the cool prickling feeling I had braced myself for. Yet, it felt familiar, so I blinked, startled-

-and was jolted from my dream, where I found myself blinking tiredly and looking at the darkened cabin of an airship. Mechanical clinks and the echoes of clockwork hums formed an alien, but not obnoxious lullaby of sorts. The noises becoming fainter as my night vision focused and I took in the rest of my surroundings.

The glow of moonlight reflecting off of Fish's floating bubble shone faintly in the corner. From there, the softly gleaming hilt of Fate picked up some of this light, from its current place: buried under Sombra's saddlebags and other possessions acquired both recently and through the course of our journey - including his cloak, which I had managed to convince him to discard. All were placed on the rather plush chair that our cabin housed. My necklace sat next to the chair, on the neighboring coffee table, a mere outline in the night and not a particularly interesting one.

Only one sound filled the thick silence of the cabin, and that was the faint rumble of Sombra's purring. Most of it was muffled by the blankets surrounding us, which were as plush as the chair and as thick as the silence - as well as an unfamiliar luxury to him. Nevertheless, he seemed quite comfortable, though he had discarded the pillows I gave no thought to relinquish in order to snuggle up against my chest, his own rising and falling with his purring.

My forehooves had been wrapped around him, but I had moved my right up close to his face in order to stroke his mane - which is what had disrupted my odd dream. While he was too deep in sleep to know exactly what was happening, each time I stroked his mane, his purr deepened and he instinctively moved as close to me as he could, nuzzling me in his sleep when I began to scratch him behind the ear with a little bit of magic. The gentle turquoise glow of my aura was kept dim in order to help him sleep, though I doubt he was anywhere close to being able to rouse himself at such a minor distraction. Eventually, I just settled for petting his mane, moving his bangs aside once to place a kiss on his forehead.

How could anypony ever want to hurt him? Though, he may be unpredictable and feral in nature, he wasn't one who sought violence in the ways he's made out to. I've seen him scared, and know that even though he can and has hurt ponies, they don't realize that their actions and words can harm him as well. I don't want to ever see Sombra as a victim in anything like this - he's a wonderful pony, extraordinary even, and nopony like Onyx is ever going to hurt him again - not if I can help it.

Since I've met him, he's done nothing but help me. Even if things sometimes don't go as planned, I know he's more compassionate than anypony but me is likely to know. Sombra isn't a tyrant or anything in that vein, but as compassionate as he can be, he can be angry too. I'm not unaware that he has a cruel streak. He could never be as cruel as what is said about him with the sincerity he shows, though he has a funny way of showing it at times.

He loves me, he's honest with me, and he's protected me when I needed it.

He's protected me...

I bite the inside of my cheek to stifle a gasp and nuzzle Sombra instead. He doesn't stir when I flick one of his ears either. I whisper his name in his ear and shake him faintly, hoping that he'll wake up with what I have suddenly thought of. After all, who better to help me make sense of enigmas and secrets than the most enigmatic pony I know, the God of Knowledge himself? A creature born of knowledge itself, who uses it like no other I have seen?  I can think of none but Sombra fit for such discussion... if only he'd wake up!

"Sombra, there's something I need to tell you!" I hissed in his ear, making sure my voice was still at a level that could be considered whispering. 

"Sombra, please wake up! This is very important!"

He either refuses to stir or is practicing for death, even though he cannot experience it.

What a drama queen.

"Sombra, I order you to rouse yourself this instance!"

In his continued slumber, Sombra nuzzles me before rolling over slightly and batting at something that isn't there with a forehoof.

I guess I will have to up my creativity...

"If you refuse to wake up, the next time you try to explain any of the math you like to me, I will insist that the answer to each of your problems can be obtained by-" I pause for emphasis. "-dividing by zero, regardless of what you are even talking about!"

His purring ceases-

Maybe that was too far...

-be still doesn't wake up.

"I think pizza is a ridiculous example of a popular invention for you to have such a fondness for, and frankly, I find its flavor to not be to my liking!"

How do I insult somepony I love so much without telling a lie? I think to myself as I roll onto my stomach and peer at Sombra, who is now enjoying his slumber cuddled up against my side.

"Purple isn't that ugly of a color?" I offer to no avail.

"Your mane is... adequate?" I cannot fathom how I am supposed to insult him or threaten him like this, when there is nothing I have that can accurately be used against him. Any negative statements I had about him were things that were either pet peeves or things I imagine we could talk out with one another if problems arose. How was I truly supposed to quarrel so terribly with him?

"Your mother-"

Oh wait, he doesn't have one...

After a moment, I finally give up my attempts at trying to annoy him and give him a quick kiss, before turning to watch beams of moonlight streaming in from a nearby window dance on the floor. Soon, a faint and unmistakable grumble could be heard from within the depths of the sheets.

"Sombra?"

I look over to him, puzzled to find his eyes still closed and wait for further signs of wakefulness.

Slowly, the left side of his mouth turns up into a faint smirk.

"Double or nothing," he whispers.

I blink and in the next second, Sombra's face becomes well acquainted with a few nearby pillows.



...



Sombra's ears flicked to catch my words, moonlight outlining his profile in the dark. Like his chest, his ears now bore more pronounced fluff due to his ill-timed winter coat. He tried to hide the fluff under his cloak or wash the new hair out in clumps whenever he had a chance to use the shower in the adjoining room. Unlike me, he hadn't seemed that surprised that a proper washroom could be located on an airship. Still, his efforts had not paid off - unless Sombra counted the fact that we both learned how to get clumps of gray fluff out of a drain.

"Aren't all you dreams vivid, Luna?"

"Yes, they are. Three things mark the nature of my dreams: their vividness, how strange they are, and always lucid. Never had I had a dreamless night. I have often heard of what they are like from my sister, and they sound rather empty, for lack of a better word... but this dream... there was something about it I cannot place my hoof on. It did not feel like a foredream - or at least, not a typical foredream. Those are always very powerful - and often very cryptic, at least in my case - and have always left me feeling haunted, yet this dream felt different. I would call it uplifting, I think."

When I finish, I return to braiding Sombra's mane. Little wisps of turquoise magic flip through strands of black as I move them into a loose Prancian braid, carefully plaiting all but his bangs, as he told me not to disturb them in my process.

"Alright then, I'm going to make the assumption that it isn't a foredream then, since thousands of years of experience have taught you otherwise. However, I think that we should consider that it might be some kind of foredream if we can't come up with anything else."

"That sounds well. Is there anything you need me to explain to you?"

Sombra yawns and pulls away, choosing to rest his muzzle in his forehooves before he let me resume my braiding. I caught him mumble a few things into the blankets at his hooves, and heard the word 'coffee' among them. Deciding that he needed a distraction from tiredness, I moved a wisp of aura to his ear and began to scratch behind it, and was immediately rewarded with Sombra's purring.

"So, what do you think my dream means, O Wise and Powerful God of Knowledge?"

Sombra's left ear flicked and he shook his mane - which was now successfully braided - before resting his head in his forehooves once more, lost in thought. His purr stopped and he narrowed his eyes, yawning once more.

"What are your foredreams usually about?"

"Well, Celestia's are-"

"Wait-" He yawns again, "Celestia has these too?"

"Yes, the both of us dream of things that are to come. Mine are always far more intense."

"Would I be incorrect in guessing that yours are usually more ominous as well?"

"No, you would not be. I have found many of them to be quite haunting." When I continue to stroke his mane, Sombra begins to purr once more, though he still spoke between the melodic rumbles.

"An example of your foredreams would be...?" His voice trailed off into another purr, pricking his ears forward to catch whatever I had to say.

"During Tirek's return - which was shortly before yours, your true return, I should say - my sister and I both had our own dreams warning us of his deeds and plans for our subjects and nation. Before that... there were so many. One that stands out I had when I was a little filly. I had dreams of fire - the dark fire that you used and-"

"And what?" Sombra interrupts, his attention clearly captured by what I had to say.

"...One of the reasons I was scared of you when we first met one another is b-because-"

Sombra immediately looks concerned and attentive once I have brought up that time. He lifts his muzzle and nuzzles me before my voice can truly falter, and I see that he looks worried, his crimson eyes filled with the patience I had never seen him offer to anypony else, except in meager shreds.

"Luna, roughly how long ago was this?"

Will he be upset with me for never telling anypony?

"The night before my mother and father left us, I had a dream of this fire... but I was too scared to tell anypony. They already looked so worried and it might have been just a bad dream and-"

I swallow a lump in my throat, but it doesn't help. My eyes are already watering and I can feel sobs waiting to escape - until they choose to wait no longer and I feel hot tears rolling down my cheeks, my vision blurring because of them and my words coming out choked.

"-and T-Tia has such a n-nice dream - o-or at least I t-thought it s-sounded nice at first... new land s-stretching as far as the eye c-could see, but it a-ate at me for months before T-Tia distracted me with all her s-silly princess tales and antics now that we h-had the castle to ourselves."

I don't see Sombra sit up since I bow my head to avoid eye contact, but I hear the faint rustling of fabric moving and feel him drape his cloak around me, his aura dispelling once he ceases levitating the garment. Moments later, he wraps me in a tight hug, his forehooves wrapping me into his own version of my hugs, only far less crushing. I accept his wither to cry on, burying my muzzle in his coat. I feel him tilt his head ever so slightly in a gesture like a nuzzle, but he doesn't speak. When I listen closely I can hear him purr again, but the sound is softer.

"We didn't do a-anything for years and-"

"You were only four, weren't you?"

"Y-Yes, but-"

"Children are virtually useless on their own, at least physically. I personally have not met many that are too exceptional at anything at the age you were, but I've read a bit here and there about supposed prodigies here and there. There's nothing that you could have done at then that would have made a difference-"

"I could have told them!"

"Luna, you told me that they looked grim, didn't you?"

"Yes-" I wanted to protest more and begin to describe what losing a loved one felt like to Sombra. I know he has had no family throughout his life and would need to have this explained to him if I wanted him to understand the enormity of what I had done.

"They were full-grown gods, Luna, and if you noted their grim mood that day with such clarity that it is one of the first details you recall now, then it must have been unusual for them to behave in that manner. Do you know what that means?"

I shook my head and clutched Sombra tighter.

"It means that they likely knew that something was going to happen to them. I doubt they knew what, exactly but they already seemed to know that something was going to go south if they were so openly worried in front of their own foals even if nopony was going to find you and they were likely assembling an army. What do you think telling them your dream would have done?"

"N-Nothing?"

"Exactly. You were a nervous little filly and I highly doubt you would have been able to explain that dream to them when they were in such an emotional state without triggering one brief slip up in whatever composure they had left. You would have never let them out of your sight once you noticed that. You're far too perceptive as it is, and if you were as vigilant and wary of anything that seemed unusual in their demeanor as your actions show, then you would have done everything to prevent them from leaving once you picked up on anything."

Truly, Sombra is a genius to take so much from so little. Will he ever cease to surprise me? I nod into his coat for no particular reason other than liking how soft it is. Anypony else would have only had the mind to give me empty words and unneeded sympathy - either claiming to understand what all this meant and what I was going through or not understanding in the slightest but still choosing to act as if their choice would be the right one.

"Why do you think I never would have let them leave, Sombra?" I whispered.

If I could see his face right now, I know he would be smirking at least a little bit. "You're clingy when you're upset, and your stubbornness and determination is on the same level with yours truly."

I nod into his coat a second time, continuing to relish in his effort to comfort me - which had been rather successful so far, as I did feel a bit better.

"Sombra, that isn't all..."

"Well then, tell me the rest won't you? I would say that I'm not going to be this young and handsome forever, but that would be a lie."

"Who ever said you were handsome?"

"You see every time I look in a reflective surface, I see this amazingly beautiful and knowledgeable entity with the best taste in manestyles and stunning crimson eyes who tells me all sorts of very lovely things about me."

"What a charmer."

"Indeed."

"He must be quite the gentlecolt to compliment you so. I might have to offer him a kiss."

"Don't worry, I've beat you to it."

I slowly begin to unbraid Sombra's mane with my magic, running a hoof through it and only stopping to arrange it as it was before I braided it. "Are you implying you kiss your own reflection?"

"Confirming, actually. Why?"

"...I thought you did not like to consume any kind of alcohol, and I can think of no other circumstance where one would kiss their mirror image."

"Who kisses their reflection when they're drunk? That just seems downright bizarre."

"Who kisses their reflection while sober?"

"I do."

"...How long has this been going on?"

"Since I was eighteen."

"I lack a proper way to respond to this other than pointing out how egotistical that is."

He chuckles and runs a hoof through my mane, adjusting the way his cloak hung on my withers so it didn't slip. "If you're well enough to participate in my egotistical banter, then I'm going to presume that you are well enough to continue talking with me."

"I... Are you sure you want to hear it?"

Sombra's hold on me never falters. "I wouldn't be asking if that wasn't the case."

"My next dream happened later, eighty-three years after they were gone. Tia and I were traveling in the desert, I know not if she still had any of the dreams that plagued me, but I would awaken late in the night with many powerful dreams still fresh in my mind and no way to decipher them-"

"What makes you think I can help?"

"I find your consul to be wise, insightful, and eccentric and your company is most pleasurable. You know things I do not, are skilled with communication, fiercely intelligent, and are good at spotting details. Thus, I find you to be invaluable, dear Sombra."

Sombra purrs briefly at my praise and nuzzles me once again, and I nuzzle him back, hoping he will not be troubled by what I will have to say to him.

"As I had to way to come close to understanding the true meaning of my dreams," I continued, "I kept them to myself and urged myself onward while still keeping them in mind. The particular dream I had was of the same fire, only now it burned a world beyond recognition. I am sure that if I knew more of the world before whatever catastrophe occurred then I, too, would have seen the signs of something wrong."

"As a child," Sombra says flatly. "Were you older, then I could believe you would have been able to find some damning evidence of dark happenings, but you were a very little filly traveling with her sister in the aftermath of everything. You didn't even know what to look for. By the time you were old enough to understand any of these things in full, you were close to the Tribes and likely had your ambitions set elsewhere now that you had become adjusted to living in a world with even less evidence of disaster as you went farther north. I've seen maps of the Old World, and there wasn't much up there even before the Collapse."

"Ah," I said, my thoughts temporarily straying to what the world must have looked like on Sombra's maps, and if I would have connected it to the wilds I wandered without anypony telling me they were the same place. Even when I continued to speak, mind still half-lost among the phantom outlines of all that had been, I still toyed with Sombra's mane.

"This dream had your eyes in it," I whispered. As soon as I spoke, Sombra tensed up and the silence that settled between us was an eerie one. The only sound that either of us heard being the whir of machinery and the sway of Pink Sunset, which was magically anchored in place by Shining Armor during the evening as a precaution, in case the mechanical brake failed and we began to drift.

"My eyes? Are you sure about that? This would have been centuries - no, at least two thousand years before I was created!"

"Sombra, they were not truly your eyes - but they were like yours. Only the colors were different; the fire that surrounded them was still the same."

"Luna-" Sombra's attempt to talk sounds frantic and confused, like he's scrambling to piece everything together

"When I first saw you all those years ago, I caught your eyes and thought that... I thought that they might be the same as the ones I saw in my dream and that you were a clue, a piece of something larger, or even a hint... Oh Sombra, there were many things I thought during that first meeting of ours, and I was so paralyzed with déjà vu when I saw you that I failed to realize that your eyes were not those of a monster until I saw that you had followed me to the Sky Scraper from the Pantheon."

"Luna?"

"Sombra, I'm sorry. Would you hate me for this?"

His answer is to purr and pull me closer, and I can feel him yawn again before resting his head against my wither.

"No, Luna. I don't hate you for this. Are you really so stubborn that you won't believe that I love you?"

I swallow and find I need to swallow again to clear my throat properly and get rid of the last of my sniffling. Pushing him away, I place a hoof on each of his withers and hold him at a distance, looking him straight in the eye. He looks a bit tired, but certainly happy enough with the shadow of a smirk on his face. Though, he does look more interested in contemplating his next yawn.

"Out of everything in the world that I could doubt right now, Sombra, how could I ever doubt that you love me?"

He blinks and finally yawns. 

"Exactly," he mumbles before collapsing back onto the bed, sound asleep. I glance at the small clock sitting on the nightstand on his side of the bed. In the dark I have no problem seeing the hands that clearly indicate that it is only one twenty-two in the morning.

It appears that Sombra will be sleeping in again, I muse looking from the clock to Sombra's sleeping form, feeling more compelled to snuggle him than I did to feel the strange light in my dreams.

Stretching my wings and folding them again, I curl up next to Sombra, my strange dream still on my mind.



...



I was well aware of the fact that Sombra was exceptionally fond of destroying property. He told me that he does have an extensive knowledge of crafting explosives and the art of demolition, but I did not think that he'd appear so eager to destroy anything so late in the morning. The last time I had checked a clock, it had stated that it was barely seven o' five and he was already looking at the window of Pink Sunset's hall with murder in his eyes as the sun's morning rays shone through the polished glass.

I sat down in the chair next to him, setting down a plate with toast - completely barren of even a bit of butter or anything to offer flavor - and carrot sticks, nudging it close to him and offering a small smile. Sombra blinked tiredly and accepted the plate, levitating the toast to his muzzle, which bore an extremely grumpy expression and proceeded to quietly eat the toast as grumpily as possible.

"It was very nice of Shining Armor to help me figure out how the toaster worked, wasn't it?"

Sombra mumbled something incomprehensible and continued to glare at the sun. Having already eaten my breakfast at a more reasonable hour, I was content just to simply sit with Sombra, who I was finally able to convince to wake up at a more sensible hour. Had things been up to him, we could have been having breakfast anywhere from noon to the middle of the night! Such preposterous results could only happen with Sombra's sleep cycle.

Wrapping my wing around Sombra, I managed to pull his attention away from his celestial staring contest with no trouble. He was soon leaning his head against my wither and rolling a carrot stick between his fangs.

"Even Pink One is still asleep," he grumbles.

My only reply is to nudge the mug of coffee he had been keeping close by closer to him, since he'll be needing it. Once he has some more of the bitter liquid and is awake a bit longer, I'll be sure to draw him further into conversation, especially once he has had the time to think about what we discussed earlier. Sombra levitates the mug without bothering to look at it, and I finally reveal my true motives and snatch a few carrot sticks from his breakfast smile, quickly - and with as much smugness as I can muster - devouring them before he can protest.

"Witch," he grumbles.

"Beast."

"Freak," he counters.

"Pariah," I retort.

He takes a long sip of coffee and snuggles closer to me. "Outcast."

"Criminal!"

Sombra chuckles and tilts his head up so I can get a good view of his smirk. "Oh, but isn't that why you love me so much?"

"You think yourself so irresistible, hmm?"

"I know I'm irresistible. I am dark magic and if dark magic, and if dark magic has any infamous qualities, it's being completely and utterly irresistible."

I laugh softly, once and light my horn, pulling Sombra closer to me so he looks more comfortable. I do not think that he's ever had much time to relax or an easy time doing so. If he could get a few moments to be calm alongside me, then I would try to ensure that what little time he happens to have would be peaceful.

"Do you think that my dream might deceive me and that it could be hinting at trouble to come? Is light not something blinding? Surely, that could be a symbol of some kind of oversight on my part?"

"Didn't you say that the light in there wasn't blinding?" Sombra's fangs mercilessly crush another carrot stick he had managed to sneak past me and into his mouth.

"Yes, but deception is always trying to get you to believe-"

"Have your dreams ever deceived you in any way, shape, or form?"

"No, Sombra. They are often cryptic, but they never lie."

He snatches up the second piece of toast as a sign that he'll be speaking now. It didn't matter, I had nothing to add to that remark. 

"Then there's nothing to doubt what you were presented with, it's what your dream means that is what we should be discussing."

Letting out a small yawn, I nuzzle Sombra's mane as a gesture of my gratitude. Talking with him has always yielded interesting results, and it was hard not to enjoy his company when he was the one individual in which I could confide and discuss nearly everything with, all while being treated like his peer. Sombra accepted me and my word, as I did to his.

"What do you think it means?"

He pauses his consumption of the slice of toast and shifts in my embrace. "I might have an idea, but I'd like to know more first. If I'm going to give any speculations worth discussing, I'm going to need a bit more to work with. First, you said that there was something uplifting about how the light made you feel. Can you elaborate on just what was so 'uplifting' about the light?"

I paused, pursing my lip in thought. I needn't worry about any interruptions since Shining Armor was in the wheelhouse - most likely in an unsuccessful attempt to guard it from Sombra's presence. Sombra took control of Pink Sunset's wheel if he thought he was nearing boredom, regardless of Shining's 'suggestions' that he leave flying Pink Sunset to him and him alone. Cady was still asleep and wasn't likely to wake up for another couple of hours, stumbling into the ship's kitchen for her breakfast. I do hope that she won't mind that her cereal is going to be lacking marshmallow bits, all thanks to me. However, I do not think she shall be mad that I put the box back for her and made sure it looked exactly as it was when I found it.

With those two elsewhere, I had all the time I wanted to spend with Sombra. Normally, I was only ecstatic at the prospect of spending time by myself, likely in some quiet place. When Cady visited Canterlot, I was occasionally eager to see her as well, since she was the closest thing I had to a friend. I never felt like this with Sombra, whose advice and thoughts I would always consider and whose company I could not help but seek out with enthusiasm I had never even bothered to feign in other social functions - whether it be a meeting between kingdoms that required no pretenses of false joy, or the party of another who was so excited to have my sister's company - and on the unfortunate occasion, mine as well.

"When I saw it... the light felt as if it were drawing itself close to me. While I know this may sound like the ramblings of a foal to you, it felt as if it had something to communicate with me as best as it could."

"Until you start to take after your sister-"

"Sombra!" I hiss, lightly cuffing one of his ears only to earn a slight chuckle before he concluded, picking up right where I interrupted him.

"-I couldn't consider much of anything about you to be foolish. However, I'd like you to go on. What do you think this light was going to 'say' to you?"

"...To not give up, or at least that's how things felt... I think it was a message of motivation, an urge to not give up hope."

I felt Sombra tense up slightly at the last word, but didn't question the gesture. He might just be a tad uncomfortable.

"Ponder that."

"Pardon?" I asked, blinking at the sudden determination in his tone.

"The meaning of your dream. It's pretty damn important."

"So important that you cannot offer a hint if you knew the answer?"

"It appears to be that way," Sombra says, yawning again. "Can you trust me when I say that this isn't something I can help you with?"

I paused, mulling over his words. This wasn't something I really needed to think over. My answer to his inquiry of questioning if I trust him would likely be 'yes' for... well, I could not think of any time where I would not even consider placing a shred of trust in Sombra's words...

"Of course I trust you. Some wise pony once told me that we do the most important things on our own, and I imagine this would be one such thing, no?"

"The wisest," Sombra comments, nodding into my side.

"The most outstanding of sages."

"Rivaled by none in his infinite judgement, I, Sombra am truly the wisest of all."

"I have no argument for that, Sombra of Knowledge." He inches closer to me - he always does seem to find a way to draw closer to me, no matter the situation - when I begin to twirl a lock of his mane in my magic.

"Do you know much about being a goddess, Luna?"

When he reaches for his coffee, I nudge it closer to him and briefly ponder his question, which was in no way surprising. Knowledge was something he craved, if his sharp intellect and collection of books were to be any indication.

"I clearly know something of being a goddess, do I not?" I laughed softly at his question. In the back of my mind, I was already thinking of other possible answers had I potentially misinterpreted his question.

"I meant the more basic things, like domains of power. Do you know much about those?"

Slowly, I blink and wait a heartbeat, to see if he'll continue. When he doesn't, I take that as my chance to speak. "A little. I did not exactly have a teacher or another Alicorn to tell me of the nature of my own kind. As a filly, I recall being told a few things about the domains of a god or goddess. Why do you ask this? If you are asking if it is possible for you to have another domain of power - or sphere of influence, if you prefer that term - it is not. I know that it is only Alicorns like Tia and myself who are able to have-"

"No, no, Luna I wasn't going to ask that. I wanted to know if you're aware of how many you have."

"Is that so? Well then, I have two. The Night and Dreams are mine, though I'm not sure why I have two and Tia only has one..."

Sombra makes a sound in the back of his throat. It sounds vaguely like 'hmm', or perhaps 'hmph', as if he were giving me an audible signal that he were thinking. I'm sure there's never been a time when he cast all inhibitions and sense of thought to the wind, since even his impulses have some motive behind them that I like to observe.

"I doubt she only has one. She's powerful enough that one would be ridiculously underwhelming. She just likely hasn't discovered them; that is how it worked for you, isn't it?"

Resting my own head on top of Sombra's, I allow myself to get lost in memories of magic and newly gained cutie marks, as well as the more recent set of memories of the events involving my creation of dream magic.

"It is, Sombra. I gained power over dreams by experimenting with magic to make something new. Being the sole ruler of Equestria for one thousand years would not leave somepony like Tia with time for experimenting with magic, at least not in her mind. I can only imagine what could be done in ten! One thousand would be something grand."

"She's hardly the sort for arcane experiments, anyway"

"True," I muse. "Yet, I imagine that she will discover something, in time."

"In time, maybe," Sombra responds, his first two words an echo of my own.

Sunlight poured through the window panes, illuminating both Sombra and I, bathing in a warm blanket of morning light. Through the glass, I yearned to feel the cool summer breezes ruffling my feathers and soar in the sky that bore colors of a fading dawn. Sombra purred once more, a faint rumble that died within a moment. I took this to be something like a sigh and returned my attention to him.

"How is your eye?"

"Hmm?" His head tilted upward, but only slightly since he seemed far too comfortable to shift much, and I was not about to force him to move.

"Your left eye," I whispered, though there was nopony to hear, "I am asking if it functions as well as your right does now."

"I think? It feels like it does, but sometimes I still flinch when others approach my left side."

"Huzzah! That is excellent news!"

"I need more coffee."

With a brief flourish of magic, I pluck his empty coffee mug from his grip and it disappears in a flash of magic.

"I know something that will be better than coffee."

Sombra shifts in my embrace, the fabric of his cloak rustling slightly as he does so. "Calculus?"

"No."

"Pizza?"

"No."

"Naps?"

"No, Sombra."

"Belittling the masses?"

"Not really..."

"Being labelled a public menace?"

"Not at all."

"Looking as handsome as I do all the time?"

"Again, no."

"Pelting pigeons with frozen waffles that have been recently shoplifted?"

"I... that is just rude."

"You?"

"Sweet, but I am afraid that that answer is incorrect - at least in this case."

"Sword fights...?"

"Almost!" I cheer, shaking his form. How can he still be half-asleep this late in the morning? 'Tis absurd!

"Just tell me!"

"Are you up for a duel later? I want to assess your skill and any improvement in your sight since our last fight."

To receive no response from a question that Sombra would usually be eager to answer was a mild shock, but when I looked at him the reason for his lack of a reply was obvious: he had fallen asleep again.

"Typical Sombra," I muttered to nopony at all.



...



Lightning flashed across the evening sky, but there was no rain to accompany it. Instead, the rumble of thunder was still only a distant murmur carried by the wind. Still, the crackling of my magic could be heard clearly in comparison. It lit up Pink Sunset's balcony and cast wavering, but dramatic highlights over the metal surface, whose glossy coat of protective enchantments was lost in the shadows brought by the coming storm.

On the other side of the wide, spacious balcony, blending into the gray dusk was Sombra. Only his eyes stood out; their color and the intelligence burning in them made them far too distinct for even nature to try and disguise. He eyed the advancing attack with something akin to boredom before lashing out with his own magic, dark aura flaring to life as a wall made up of äerint big enough to shield him appeared. His horn continued to glow with dark energy and he tilted his head to the side slightly and rolled his eyes, smiling slightly before the barrier vanished with another brief flash.

"So, Luna how do you think my eye is doing now?"

Without warning, I feel myself smile as I look at Sombra, his smugness showing through subtler motions - the way he pricked his ears, or how the left side of his mouth curled up in one of his arrogant, wry smirks that he knew I adored, and the way his pride effected his defiant stance. 

"I think you're doing quite well-"

He scoffs, laughing softly, and tosses his mane, likely knowing that I am almost unable to look away from him when he does so, since the only pony I know who's as fabulous as he is would be Miss Rarity.

"Only 'quite well'? That's certainly high praise."

I chuckled at his mock offense. "If you had let me finish, I would have said that you were doing quite well so far."

His eyes stay trained on me, but his magic roams to the sheath at his side and whips out Fate. Another quick toss of his head, as unnecessary as it was, manages to get some of Sombra's bangs out of his face - only for them to fall right back where they had been. He huffed, and rolled his eyes at nothing in particular, clearly amused by the failure of the gesture before he returned his focus on me and waved Fate's blade at me, cracking a half-smile.

"Round two, then?"



...



Rain came swiftly after my fifth duel with Sombra, cold and biting, it relentlessly battered Pink Sunset. Strong winds were kept at bay with mere waves of my magic that assisted in steering through the storm while Sombra and I enjoyed the wrath of the tempest, our laughs somehow not lost to the delightfully winds. We were currently standing at the frontmost part of the rain-slicked structure, he looked out at the whirling gray clouds that fought one another for control of the skies of drowned moonlight.

Cady had long stopped calling for us to come back inside and each time I called back, the Royal Voice rising above the howling wind to let her know that no, Sombra and I were not hungry, or that yes, the both of us were insane, and other similar things.

Weapons woven from false starlight had vanished from my sides and Fate had long since been replaced in its sheath.

And Sombra was smiling.

It was a thin smile, one of great amusement, but still not the adorable grins I caught him giving me more freely, when he didn't disguise his fangs as normal teeth.

"And that's how the play closes? With the two families finding the bodies of their children and that one other stallion nopony really cares about?"

"The count, Sombra. You were playing him-"

"Only because of the two leads that had to show up was the one that was a hormone-addled idiot instead of the cooler one-"

"Well," I interrupt, "if you had let me explain all the scenes we couldn't act out other than the ones involving-"

"He's the best character!" Sombra exclaims over the wind. "He has an entire speech delivered in the middle or a party he was invited to as a testament to just how batshit he is. He just shows up to crash it as if he weren't invited like anypony worth knowing would!"

"Yes, yes, I have seen this play before in a proper theater and own a copy," I say, poking Sombra on the muzzle with my forehoof before pulling down his rain-drenched hood to expose his mane to the heavy rain.

Sombra waves a forehoof dismissively to my gesture, laughing lightly. "You and I should go see this play sometime. The writer sounds genius. I'd love to see more than duel scenes and a few speeches acted out by us on the deck of an airship, however amusing your acting is."

"Yours isn't half bad for somepony who hasn't been trained or exposed to the art."

Sombra shrugs, rain rolling off his cloak that has become plastered to him. "It's a skill I would like to learn, if only for our own amusement."

Through the curtains of rain dividing us, I hold a forehoof to my mouth, though my smile of delight needs no mask. I look at Sombra with something I imagine looks much like the loving, excited gazes he gives me when I demonstrate how much I care for him in the moments he needs it most.

"You would really learn acting, so we might perform alongside one another for an audience of none?"

Leaning forward, Sombra nuzzles me, his muzzle already as soaked as the rest of him. "Of course I would, and I'm glad that you decided to share this with me. Seeing you this caught up in something... it's enchanting Luna. You're enchanting."

By now the rain has been battering us for some time, ignore his current condition, and pull Sombra into a hug. He softens in my embrace almost immediately, and if there was any shift at all, it was merely him making himself comfortable. "'Tis - I mean, it is lovely to see you so invested in something I enjoy, Sombra. You will make a splendid actor."

The cry of thunder that is no longer a mere rumble in the distance drowns out any sound he makes, but I feel Sombra yawn into my coat. "With your instruction and my current knowledge of deception and manipulation, I doubt there will be much difficulty to teach me. I'll certainly be a willing student."

"My peer, Sombra. You'll always be my peer."

"Mhm," he mumbles, moonlight washing over us both from a gap in the clouds before disappearing behind the storm.

With no response, Sombra and I spend a few minutes enjoying the silence between us as thunder screams and strong winds howl, rocking the Pink Sunset back and forth steadily as the ship pushes through all that opposes it.

"Luna?"

"What is it, Sombra?" I whisper back, still holding him while the storm churns and the ocean rages far below. 

"Do you think it's wrong to be selfish?"

I paused and swallowed, eyeing the darkened horizon. Rain slides down my throat, but I enjoy the ice-cold feeling and don't bother to shelter us from something as tame as a tempest - for me, there has always been beauty in savage things that none would think to appreciate, and the tempest fits too neatly in this philosophy.

"Not entirely. I think it is like how you are arrogant, where it appears to be a strength of yours and you are too aware of the more negative aspects to let them control you. Wouldn't you agree? I think that for you, morals and pride are intertwined. Is that what you were asking?"

He chuckles softly. "No, not quite. Do you think that it is wrong to be selfish in general? That's a better way of putting it."

"In the case of some, indeed it is wrong. Don't you feel that some of the most selfish ponies - the more obnoxious ones, mind you - claim to be so self-centered as one would expect from somepony selfish, yet they know nothing of themselves to begin with?"

"I feel that every day. What about you, what's the most selfish thing you've ever done?"

"I... I think you can guess."

Thunder booms around us, but Sombra still manages to catch my how I faltered and nuzzles me, clearly pleased when I return his affection. If I focus my hearing, I can catch the sound of him purring through the pouring rain.

"If I ever needed you to be selfish, would you listen?"

"I'd certainly consider your request."

"No matter the circumstance?"

"You know that I shall be sure to always hear you out, however dire or trivial your request may be."

Sombra pulls away abruptly, tugging his hood back on even though his mane, now limp with rain, hangs in his eyes so even I can barely see their crimson color in the dark. He turns away with exaggerated, mock offense. "My requests are trivial now? What a rude thing to say to your lover. Hmph. So much for getting anymore compliments and flattery from you."

"Is that so, Sombra?" I begin, dramatically scoffing. "If we are equals and you deem your requests trivial, then mine are equally trivial when you reduce yours to such a status. How spiteful of you to stoop to such levels. My words must mean nothing to you if you have chosen to speak about me as you currently do. See if I bother to cuddle you tonight!"

"No!" Sombra exclaimed, false horror shining in his eyes, as obscured as they may be from his mane. "You wouldn't dare defy me!"

All around us, thunder sounded once more, mixing with my laughter. "I have dared to! This is my revolt against you, fiendish demon!"

The last word is like magic; it instantly makes Sombra's fragile mirth vanish, his expression now as dark as the skies. The rain is the only sound between us, drumming harshly on the metal of the ship's deck.

"Sombra, I'm so sorry. Please, you must know that I didn't really mean it like that, it was only a joke and I never meant to offend you in any way."

He bites his lip, eyeteeth sinking into the flesh before he winces when a thin stripe of blood runs down his mouth. 

"I know," he mumbles. 

"Do you forgive me...?"

"I want revenge."

My heart skips a beat, and I back away upon hearing his sudden declaration. I don't know if he can see my shock and my fear show. Maybe he senses it in some other fashion. I know not if such a sudden burst of fear can taint how my magic feels to him, but there is a slight shift in his demeanor when he notes my reaction, shifting his now-cold gaze from my face to the distant horizon. Stars know what what lurks there, awaiting us.

"You want to hurt-"

"No," he interrupts, coldly and decisively cutting me off. "If you choose to doubt anything, my word is only going to be a waste of time. I always mean what I say when I talk to you and hurting you is never something I'd do. The revenge I want has nothing to do with you. I want to hurt Umbra for... well, personal reasons."

I wrap a wing around him, and though Sombra feels almost as cold as a northern blizzard, he does not shiver. The chill of his prison and years in the Arctic have hardened him to the feeling, yet he always remains warm and undoubtedly kind for those close to him, and for himself.

"Would I be wrong to say that it has to do with being a demon?"

Sombra gives a long, heavy sigh, the rain continuing to roll down his muzzle. "Something like that. It's really nothing I want to talk about."

I swallow, thinking of what to say to him next, but he breaks the silence first.

"And don't worry about your remark, I forgive you. Plus, it wasn't you that upset me, it's just that I hate..." He trails off and looks down at the ocean below, trying to focus on something that isn't there to take his mind off whatever currently troubled him.

In a gesture of sympathy, I leaned forward and nuzzled his cheek. "You needn't say anything if it bothers you that much. Would you like to go inside now since it is quite late? While you may not need it, I think some sleep would do you good."

Sombra's only reply was to flick his ear, opening and closing his mouth in hesitation once.

"Sombra, if it is your dreams that worry you, I can watch them for you."

"No, it's not that..."

"You have no desire to talk about this, do you?"

Sombra shakes his head - a gesture that clearly means 'no' even in these hours following midnight. 

Ignoring the feel of the cold water covering us both, I lean forward to give Sombra a kiss on the cheek, my concerned expression never faltering.

"I'll leave you to your storm watching then. Just know that you are always welcome by my side when something bothers you."
> Chapter 39: Standard End of the World Meetings
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Luna:


For the fifth time, Cadance refolded her wings nervously and looked down at the surface of the table in Pink Sunset's dining hall. Behind her, I watched the clouds move while the ship remained still in the summer skies. Evening light warped the fading blue into a sunset that was indeed pink. I would be needing to raise the moon shortly, but would be able to do that from within the hall of the ship, whether it was traveling on its course or that course was halted, as it was now.

It had been a week since my dream, and I had a couple of similar ones throughout the past few days. All were in the same dark place with no limits, only the manifestations of light were possessing some diversity, each taking the shape of fluttering forms, and masked by their own glow to the point where I could only note that they were all bearing faux insectoid wings of light.

Sombra and I had gone through our week with little surprises. We often discussed all sorts of trivial things between meals and duels, but neither of us could shake the feeling of a looming threat as we neared the Isle. He skipped quite a few meals - and I understood, he had told me that he didn't like watching ponies eat that much - and took a coffee with him to our cabin, where I would find him surrounded by a stack of books he had allowed to spill over our bed, concerned and muttering things about magic. I would join him, quietly watching as he explained what he was reading to me and we would devolve into discussing various spells and techniques that might prove useful in the future.

I didn't tell him that I was far better at magical theory than I looked...

Next to me, as if sensing some distress, Sombra's gaze met mine, yet some shred of his focus still remained on Shining Armor - who was currently looking to his wife with his own look of concern in his blue eyes.

I nodded slightly and brushed Sombra's wither with the tip of the feathers on my left wing, letting him know that if he wished to sit by me he could. I wasn't as bothered as he thought I was. Sombra looked at me for a moment longer, his gaze unwavering. He offered a small nod of his own and returned his attention to Shining Armor, who had been saying something to Cady.

"We're really going to have to go through with this, aren't we Shiny?"

"Cady you said that-"

"The. World. Is. Ending."

"It's not definite," Shining Armor offered weakly. "I mean we've got Princess Luna and uh... her umm... okay, I'll just call him Sombra. Yeah, we've got Sombra too. Do you really think with ponies like them that the world is going to end? C'mon Cady, you've got to be more positive than that, it's not the end of-"

"Yes it is!" Cadance wailed, clapping her forehooves together in one nervous burst.

"Shit," Shining muttered. "I meant it figuratively."

"Shiny, the two of us have been stuck on this ship for months, away from everypony and each day we follow Uncle Sombra's directions, we steer closer to-" She looks down at her shaking forehooves and gulps. "Am I going to die? Or never see my parents again or-"

"Cady," Shining Armor says softly. "The reason that all of us are here right now is so we can make a plan that ensures we won't die."

"Plans don't really work like that," Sombra mutters, but the lack of a reaction from either Cady or Shining Armor tells me that I was the only one who heard him - or at least, had heard him clearly. The attention of Shining and Cadance was immediately drawn to where he sat.

Sombra's irritated gaze was contrasted with his nearly flawless aloof expression, betrayed only by the former. However, I knew better than to dismiss him as apathetic as he came across to the others. For me eyes, so used to examining all the subtleties of Sombra's emotions, the small spark of concern he held for his 'niece' was easy to spot.

Cadance's forehoof made a small gesture in the air - swirling about briefly as if to twirl a curl of her mane, blinking sadly when she felt only empty air. She sighed and taps her forehooves on the table's surface instead, her gaze vacant until she catches me watching her. When I don't blink but continue to stare quietly at her, she stops her tic, nodding as if we had said something.

Slowly, she turns to face Sombra, looking up at him. A few strands of her mane hang in her face and her eyes are certainly not dry, but no tears have been shed yet. "Did I interrupt you?"

Sombra stares at her coolly - and he almost looks bored as well. "No, you didn't."

She nods again. Perhaps Sombra also notes that she looks more than a little light-headed and dizzy with sorrow nagging at her mind, sore and heavy with doubt and a maelstrom of other thoughts, or maybe a steady trickle of some existential dread. Shining Armor takes this uncertain acceptance and the silent exchanges among us as his chance to speak, his voice rising above the silence that Sombra and I would not have dreaded, had it continued.

"Alright then, I think we can get down to business."

"Who died and made you leader?" Sombra asked.

"Nopony died, and I'm just getting things started. As Captain of the royal guard, I'm used to holding meetings and-"

"Get on with it, will you? If I'm going to watch you potentially screw something up, you can't be going off on tangents, now can you?"

Shining Armor's mouth drops into a faint scowl - an expression I have never witnessed on him - and he gives a frustrated sigh before he stands up from his seat. I almost snort at the gesture; it is plain to me that he thinks he can gain leverage over Sombra through what he perceives as a subtlety. Sombra had obviously noticed the other stallion's move, but only raised an eyebrow in a silent inquiry - 'Do you really think that will do anything?'

And Shining did not notice. He continued to speak as though he were a captain whose blue eyes looked in Sombra's direction, but failed to notice his expression that told who the superior of the two was with a single aloof gesture.

"As I was saying-" Shining began, finally able to speak.

"THE END IS NIGH!" Cadance burst out, eyes frantic, a forehoof once again reaching for long locks of a mane that had been cut with fire.

Shining Armor's hoof met his face, his jaw muscles twitching. Sombra merely chuckled and everything began again...



...



Wiping her eye, and swallowing Cady added another crumpled tissue to her humble collection of roughly twelve bunched-up and snot drenched pieces all crumpled together. Each one of them was from the box Sombra had wordlessly offered her when she had begun to weep after her outburst a short while ago. Though her eyes were still wet and puffy and she was unusually quiet, Cady still carried herself... well, like a princess. She may not carry herself as proudly as Sombra, but there was something to admire in the apparent lack of humility I currently observed. Perhaps it was only I alone who saw this. She made 'princess' mean something other than 'royal', even if the meaning she attributed to it was a touch naive, I found there to be a bit of nobility in that youthful notion.

She exchanged a few brief glances with me as Shining Armor spoke on, his forehoof wrapped around her withers, as he was now sitting next to his wife in order to comfort her. She listened intently to her husband's words. They were a review of reasons Shining was surprised Sombra did not crash the airship when he flew it, which was rather off topic and not exactly anything to take note of, but I tried to pay some attention to his words.

However, most of my focus was on Sombra, who unlike Shining Armor was communicating considerably more. The way his jaw was positioned told me that he was gritting his teeth, something he only did when angry or deep in some great and troubling thought. This concern was not betrayed by his stoic expression that bore little reflection of what grim thoughts must be whirling about in his mind, free for him to mull over each one and piece together puzzles only he would know the answers to. Knowing that out of all of us, Sombra is no doubt the most worried of all, I mimic Shining's gesture of consolation using my wing and wrapping it around the cold and distant stallion. His left eye twitches at the suddenness and he sits up straighter, only to sink back into his seat, quietly enjoying the sudden embrace. 

"...And that's all Cady and I know," Shining Armor said. "That something out there - something with dark magic wants to destroy the world. Isn't that right, Princess?"

"Not entirely," I replied evenly. "It really is quite a complicated matter, but you needn't worry about matters involving information on the foe we must face, for Sombra and I have acquired much of what we will need."

"But we really can't just rally a few allied nations and have my sister and the rest of the Element Bearers to use the power of Harmony to destroy this foe that you have mentioned?"

I looked at Shining Armor coolly, folding my wing at my side once more. "Were we able to do that, then it would have happened by now. Since none of those lovely and utterly cheap excuses for solutions have been put in action, then it means they will not be working. Not everything can be solved with the power that Harmony bestows on her select few. As a former Bearer myself, and as one of the two who has knowledge of what will be facing, I can tell you that Harmony shall have no power over what we will be doing."

Shining Armor's expression could not pass as stoic under my careful eye. I saw his disbelief and suppressed want to question as clear as my sister's day skies when they are free of clouds to obscure their usual blue.

"Are you, Shining Armor and Mi Amore Cadenza, prepared to hear what I have to disclose to you about what has been happening in this world and all the machinations that Sombra and i know of that have been leading us to the monster that awaits us? I shall be telling the two of you information that you will find in no distributed book within the borders of the kingdom that you both grew up in. None of this - not a single word I utter - is meant to be told to anypony - nay, any creature at all. What you will be hearing from me is as much as you will need to know. Anything else can be filled in by Sombra."

Sombra gave a purely sarcastic wave in their direction, though he did not look at them for long, as I saw his eyes flash with annoyance at something I was likely to find out.

Shining's jaw clenched and Cady ducked her eyes in thoughtful apprehension before she managed to look up at me and hold my determined and unwavering gaze, if only for a moment.

"I agree," Shining said reluctantly.

"Me too," Cady quietly added.

Sombra snorted at something only he found to be humorous - and likely darkly so - even when Shining Armor attempted to give him a look of something he might have thought would cause Sombra to find his actions to be shameful. I offered to hint in my expression to how pathetic I found the attempt. I couldn't hide the slightest trace of a smile when I saw Shining Armor recoil at Sombra's response - an effortless glowering look that earned a giggle from me when I saw Shining Armor's stunned expression.

Cadance merely blinked and spoke to her husband. "Yup. Always look out for those stares, Shiny."



...



In a gesture of finality, I sipped the glass of water that Sombra had conjured for me while eyeing Shining and Cady's vastly different reactions to the tale I had told them, finally relived to slip into the same state of quiet observation Sombra had been in when I spoke.

Shining Armor had already drained the flask of cheap spirits that he had fetched for himself halfway through my briefing. The parts about the Old World's fall did not rest well with him. Even though I could only tell so much, since I was only able to observe the aftermath as a filly, and if I were to tell anypony the more personal memories of those times, it would be Sombra. No exceptions.

The knowledge of these things: the existence of the Old World, many lost gods, and the 'possibility' (I had not dared to completely burst the bubble of naivete and other things surrounding the both of them, they would have to break the effects of dishonesty on their own) of there being a few more lies lurking below everything.

The confused, muddled look in his eyes aside, Shining Armor didn't look too bad. He had not snapped under what he would sometimes call lies and upheld the oath of secrecy he had sworn, but his gaze was not free of trouble. One of his forehooves was massaging his temple as he let out a shaky exhale.

"This... It's certainly a lot to process, Princess."

I simply nodded and let my gaze rest on Cady. Her reaction was much more contained. Her posture was stiff and frozen, her eyes locked in a bleak existential stare with the wall beyond me. The bright colors of her mane and coat certainly offered a peculiar contrast to her currently dull eyes and dreary demeanor.

"Cadance?" I prompted softly.

She blinked. Slowly.

"What am I doing with my life?"

Her soft, but clear and audible question was followed by the sound of a hoof brought down against the table. While it may have failed to pull her out of her trance-like state, the sound caught my attention and I looked over at Sombra who gave a rather wide smirk - especially considering that he rarely did much of anything like a smile when we weren't on our own. Perhaps Cady was an exception, even if him and Shining weren't exactly friendly with one another.

"That's our Pink One!"

Shining Armor sighed again - this time it was a far more annoyed, far deeper sigh - before he politely excused himself so he could get more to drink.



...



"So we have to defeat an Alicorn?" Shining Armor asked. "An Alicorn who has been corrupted by dark magic and has been hiding away from sight for gods know how long?"

"About as long as I have lived," I told him, my tone carrying none of the weight one would expect it to have with the statement, merely candor.

He looked down at the flask gripped in his magic and took another gulp while Sombra stared at him warily. All around us, stars twinkled past a barrier of glass. Their soft and distant light was soothing to Cadance, who looked drained but calm. Her head was resting on her forehooves, which were folded into a makeshift headrest on the table. The only clue to her being awake other than her half-closed eyes was when she decided to blow a few strands of her colorful mane out of her face and the murmured chirpy one-word answers she gave to Shining Armor when he inquired about her state of being.

"His name is Umbra and he's a demon," Sombra added absently, still lost in thought. His eyes were narrowed as he focused on something that was not present in Pink Sunset, for I doubt he found the wall behind Cadance to be of much interest.

Shining ignored him while I resisted the urge to scowl at his behavior. 

"Sombra is correct."

Shining Armor nodded. "Alrighty then, I think I've certainly got a grip on the situation now... or at least as much as I'm going to."

He shoots me a sheepish smile that would no doubt have most young fillies swooning while he remained blissfully unaware of his supposed 'charm'. I gave him a stare almost as flat as Sombra's and contained my disgust at the gesture. It reminds me of his sister.

"That is good," I offer curtly. "Now as the captain of the Guard and Prince of the Crystal Empire, I would like your input."

He replaces the cap on his flask and it disappears with a small burst of magenta light before he turns his attention back to me, using one hoof to prop up his head and tapping the other on the table. Once. Twice.

"Who's going to be the leader?" he asks. "I'm not exactly capable of going up against gods and Alicorns, not even in strategy. Cadance is exhausted. Sombra is crazy-"

"That's exactly why I'm good at planning," Sombra interjected bitterly.

"-and you, Princess Luna, aren't exactly somepony whose skills are known to me. Forgive me if I'm skeptical of you leading such an operation, especially one that is taking place behind your sister's back-"

"Fie! All of this that you speak is ludicrous! Out of everypony on this ship I am the most capable to come up with an attack plan."

I gave him a true scowl this time and waited for his reply with a cold kind of patience that was unlike the warmth my sister would extend to one of our subjects. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Cadance stir slightly and Sombra give me a nod of assurance to let me know that he shall allow me full rein over the situation.

Shining Armor remained neutral and his voice was level when he spoke next. "Can I ask why? You are a very important pony-"

Did anypony but Sombra notice me just cringe at his use of 'pony'? After the things Sombra has told me, the things I feel, the things I know, and so much more 'pony' is hardly a fitting description for my sister and I. Were the situation different for him, I wish that it would be mere fact over a complicated and offensive slur - no matter the shred of honesty that lies within the ugliness - to address Sombra as 'demon'. Being called a pony that feels somewhat insulting now...

"-and your magic and skill is unrivaled by any mortal. So is Celestia's. It's fact. Still, I don't know what it is that you are capable of beyond having what I presume is an excellent potential in battle-"

"You haven't the faintest idea to what my skill in battle is! Back before my own banishment at my sister's use of the Elements, all brought about by my own folly, I could replace entire legions in battle in terms of both skill and power! Who do you think it was that was sent as a spy and support to my dearest sister when the first siege was laid upon the Crystal Empire where our armies were sure to fail? It was I!"

I catch a bit of a most endearing smirk beginning to grace Sombra's muzzle, vanishing only when Shining Armor looks in his direction upon hearing a soft chuckle come from the demon. The warmth in his crimson eyes is one only we know and  refuses to dissipate, yet is too strange and private a thing to be noticed by any other.

"It wasn't uncommon for warriors of old to boast about their deeds, Sombra. Since you're from that era, I would think that you'd know that and wouldn't laugh at the princess' words."

"That's not what I was laughing at," Sombra mutters, shooting Shining Armor a scornful look.

"We could vote on a leader," Cady murmured sleepily.

All of us looked at her.

"I vote for the Princess," Shining says quickly. "She is technically the one in charge..."

"I vote for Uncle Sombra," Cadance said just loud enough for us to hear. "He's really smart." She yawned loudly. "I'm pretty sure that he'll not only glare at things until they die from the inside out, but will sacrifice my firstborn foal to a pantheon of shadowy entities beyond all forms of mortal comprehension just to get a single good slice of pizza."

"Only a single good slice? I may be a hobo, but I'm a hobo with standards!"

"You betcha," Cadance repeats, nuzzling herself deeper into her forelegs.

"And, Pink One, I'll also add that your vote - a generous donation to my cause - would be appreciated under different circumstances where I would hypothetically be less of an entitled ass but... eh, I'll take what I can get."

"My vote also goes with Sombra. I find him to be a capable leader when he chooses to be, and none excel at plans at matters of the mind like he does," I say quickly and surely. "With his honesty, pragmatism, eccentricities, and his own peculiar brand of rare charisma, I think he should be the one to lead us to a victory that would be all but assured under his guidance. In all my life, I have never met another soul who has both his love of his knowledge and the caution in knowing what things like power can do to a creature, pony or not."

It occurred to me that everypony was staring at me. Sombra, barely keeping his mouth from falling open with the same shock that I observed so clearly in his eyes and the reluctant droop of his ears. Tired Cadance had lifted her head to watch me, friendly encouragement showing in her eyes and a bright smile that she still managed to make cheerful and beaming in my direction. Even Shining Armor was quiet, his concentration devoted solely to me as I spoke.

"There is never going to be somepony as resilient as Sombra and his mastery of dark magic would aide us all if we paid heed to his words. I can see nothing but victory for somepony who has fought and engaged in many careful pursuits for everything he has ever wanted. Shining Armor and Cady, you may hold some doubt in your minds and hearts over whether Sombra can lead, but I assure you that out of all of us he is the most fit. He knows when to be careful and when to take a gamble, and his pride will not falter. I would call none a better leader than he."

Everypony was deathly quiet. Even the mechanisms of the ship seemed to click to a brief halt at the end of my speech. No matter how much I tried to hear a single sound from them, there was nothing but the sound of my own fluttering heartbeat and soft breathing, silent to all but me.

"I vote for Luna," Sombra said, his voice unusually low. He held my gaze, and even if his did not waver it wasn't as sure as I would expect it to be. "Out of all of us it is her that's the best at leading. She's proud, brave, and has planned many of the events that have brought us all here. Luna has the most qualifications out of any of us, and her spellwork is superb. There isn't anypony else I would listen too."

I think both Sombra and I were surprised that I managed to keep a blush from creeping across my face. After so many centuries of obscurity and being 'Celestia's sister' and nothing more... I finally have a pony who notices me for me.

"We have a tie between you two," Shining Armor said, looking from Sombra to me.

"Luna and I could both lead this operation together," Sombra said immediately after the captain finished speaking.

"Yes, we could do that. I still believe that it is you, Sombra, who should be the one to lead us through this adventure."

Sombra narrowed his eyes, looking rather unconvinced. Silently, I wished that he would feel persuaded enough to take up the leadership I offered him.

His response was to grit his teeth and roll his eyes, then let out a gruff sigh. "Fine."

Before I got a chance to say anything or Shining Armor could protest, Sombra held up a hoof with in an abrupt signal to silence anypony who thought he wasn't finished.

"Regardless of whether we survive this or not, I will be getting something out of this, as my services and plans aren't free. Luna, you're the only one exempt from this. Shimmer Glimmersparkleshinywhinysprinkleglitterbutt and Mac, do you agree?"

"For the greater good?" Shining Armor offered weakly.

Cady blinked tiredly, sitting up and staring at Sombra with an unfocused look in her eye. "Sooo... might this possibly include me offering you my firstborn to you?"

"It isn't exactly out of the question," Sombra responded nonchalantly, shrugging casually.

Her expression didn't change. For once the usually upbeat, extroverted, and emotional Cadance was unreadable, even when she spoke again. "Done deal."
> Chapter 40: Farewells Exchanged and Machinations Put in Motion
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Sombra:


I'm not a simple stallion. I despise quick and easy solutions, especially to problems that are as mundane as their solutions are simple. Everything can crumble into something vastly uninteresting when that is all that problems amount to. Moments of revelation can keep me entertained well enough, I suppose. When it comes to anything: reading material, magic, tasks, company, and romantic partners to name a few examples, I am starved for complexity. Unfortunately, ponies don't usually have that in spades. There are many times where that's in my favor, but trying to find out who is more than what they seem is always something I enjoy.

I may live like a hermit - so, yes, on some level there is something simplistic in my lifestyle. That is among one of the few exceptions that are bound to exist.

But by Everything's vastness, I really wish that packing for an expedition into an ancient and unknown pocket dimension ruled by a dark-magic mad demon to reverse the end of the world and potentially find answers to ages-old questions weren't so gods-damned simple.

Scoffing at the empty air, I turn my attention back to the entirety of all my material possessions that I've dumped before me. New profanities to amuse me are also something I'm strongly considering. If I'm going to have an eternity to exist I might as well further improve my vocabulary and make further use of the already expansive one I have. Especially, considering a plain 'gods-dammit' just isn't going to cut it any more, now that I'm a god myself. There's only so much I can do with that one. Still, the incentive I've been given is certainly a nice one.

Another thing I don't find simplicity to be moronic in would be interior design. 'Utilitarian' does not mean 'tasteless' but 'fancy Canterlot mansion with damned topiaries in the shape of a duke's stupid face and coat of arms that is just begging to be burned to the ground by none other than I, Sombra' is awfully close.

The silence in my pocket dimension dragged on, and I've had plenty of peace and quiet, something that still borders on a luxury. With Luna, there's been times when we've talked for hours and hours, doing nothing but avoiding Mac as she prowled the halls in search of potential conversation. Leave it to Luna to find some rather inventive uses for an invisibility charm or two that will leave Mac staring at a demon and a goddess who know better than to let any laughter slip - which was certainly easy for me - as she unknowingly stares us both right in the eye.

When and if this is all over, I'd like to do more things like this with Luna. Loads more. But for now, I'm packing for what is certainly going to be an interesting trip. All the minor compartments in my quiet realm - invisible and untouchable until I reach out with my magic and open the unseen spaces - have had their contents emptied onto the floor. They lay in patterns of organization I doubt anypony would explain unless I explained them. It all resembles a more organized version of a dragon's hoard, only on a smaller scale. Of course, there's always the fact that there's a rather mad variety to the objects I would seek to collect...

Keeping only one pocket dimension is like a crime for me. So much can be done with places unseen than most would think. Gears, incomplete engines and other once-discarded metal parts lay in their own piles, organized in rough-looking heaps - which was exactly how they fell from their bubbled spaces that I would walk through each time, as though nothing were here. None were rusted, and all were sorted based on the date I had managed to get my thieving hooves on each batch. Now, I had my own miniature scrapyard of appliance fragments, dissected clockwork, airship parts, gutted wires inlaid with traces of practical spells from more modern mechanisms, and other things to make up the bulk of things I've gathered in the short time I've been in this era.

Ancient propaganda books about what Celestia thinks I am are among some of the larger pieces that occupy their own spaces when they aren't in sight, which is almost always, since I've memorized every false word. The modernized texts alongside older dialects of Equuish and more modern accounts of things I had reportedly done and supposed 'evidence' against me among distorted, and even a few unknowingly unaltered, truths are all part of a modern interest in how cruel and sadistic the King is now that he supposedly walks among them. The texts are all rather horrific, to put it mildly. Not much can manage to disturb me, but reading those from cover to cover gives a whole knew meaning to 'horror story'.

Almost everything in them is something I would never do, and the things I would do are blown out of proportion. The whole content of those books are downright nauseating to me. Some of the things is there he would have done, but fortunately never did. I know that he did think about what it would be like to eat a pony. For fun, of course. But it never happened, no matter what 'history' says it did. 

Some of those things in there he would never do, others he had already done but were applied to the wrong pony, the wrong place... the wrong everything. It'd almost be funny, how little everypony knows about me if they didn't create things like this, where writing me as the King and the villain of their made-up histories. Hardly anypony other than Mac would ever think to question these texts, if they did at all. In the end, they've written themselves as the true villains with their actions - and they are actions that they will not question. After all: question history, question Celestia. What difference is there? Anypony who tells you there is one is either a liar, stupid, or both whether they know it or not.

I let my attention drift to the other contents of the possessions I've amassed. The hilt of one of the six swords I own was sticking out from where it was clamped between a large gear and the remainder of an airship engine. That had gotten a bit scorched by a rather adept pyromancer when I tried very reasonably to point out that if she just gave me the airship engine and would pretend that nothing happened I wouldn't have to be threatening to burn down all her livelihood because, damn it, at least I asked if I could steal her airship engine in broad daylight. All that ended with me just taking it anyway. I don't always have the time to destroy every material thing somepony holds dear on a normal basis. She wasn't even that irritating, and to have somepony shoot fireballs at me like that is a refreshing change of pace to just protesting and trying to talk about Princess Celestia hating me and morals as I hold a sword to somepony's throat. That mare may have lacked aim, but that fire had certainly been hot.

I walk up to the hilt and pull the weapon free. It isn't anything to marvel at, not upon first impression. I had practiced some new enchantments on it a while back and couldn't work up much of a reason to go and chuck it off the mountain when it was more amusing to weave spellwork on it. The dozen I had placed upon it, each more complicated and exotic than the last, produced a faint humming sensation only I could hear, and the magic worked into it made it feel like the air around the blade was rippling.

I sighed and placed it back in the pile. Like all the weapons I owned - which wasn't many considering a certain disability I had retained up until recently kept me from being able to wield much - it paled in comparison to Fate, the sixth of these. None of them could withstand much on their own or had earned a name, but there was a surprising amount of household uses for swords. What was even more surprising is that most of them were legal. 

In my mind's eye, I pictured Fate. Nothing else, just Fate, wherever it lies in all this. I already had located its sheath not far from the sword I had just found and slipped it on. In the next instance, the silence around me was broken by a popping sound and when I opened my eyes, Fate was exactly where I had expected it to be: in its sheath.

Yes, I'm certainly apprehensive. Every little detail of everything is soaking into my mind and I can't shake some sense of fear. I need it. More importantly, I can use it. The sensation, as dull as it may be compared to the rampant and ever-flickering toxicity that usually consumes a pony, is in a state where I can control it before it becomes a problem and use it to keep me on my hooves.

Maps of various cities and territories are scattered around me, sometimes folded with names written on the corners - a recent touch - and at other times rolled up like scrolls and sealed with magic-laden wax bearing seals in symbols that were part of a key only I knew. A few books that had fallen from the crystalline, tree-like shelves were caught by the surfaces of the parchment. I wouldn't be needing any of these things where I was going. No map could outline any path of where I would be going. No ordinary book could offer any kind of information on who I would be facing and the the things I would be doing...

I suppose I'll just pick them up later, I thought, wondering when exactly 'later' could be. This would be the last time I'd be seeing this place for...

My thoughts come to an abrupt halt and the quiet around me deepens, waiting for me to complete stating the obvious and the whole world seems to wait with it, like a breath being held with nervous anticipation.

...Possibly forever.

With Fate at my side, I give the small realm I have inhabited one more cold once-over and light my horn.

From a previously empty space, the Book falls, slipping out of what appears to be nothing with no obstacles to hinder it. Before it can hit the ground, I levitate the Book to my side, fixing it with a hard stare as I do so. This is certainly coming with me. After conjuring a set of empty saddlebags to put the Book in, I turned away from the odd collection of things that had become mine in such a short stretch of time. My horn lit and I didn't need to turn around to see things return to their hidden, miniature realms within realms and books find their way back to their places on shelves with the guidance of my magic.

I stepped out into the cabin Luna and I had been sharing with a coffee-deprived scowl on my face. With Luna and I finally having a safer place than a borrowed airship to stash our things, and Fate being practical to carry around, I had attached my somewhat cozy - at least by my standards - and gray pocket dimension to one of the cabin's walls. Luna and I were the only ones who knew it was there, and I intended to keep it that way.

The sound of water swishing behind me caught my attention as I was prepared to stroll out of the dim cabin and wait with Luna on the deck until we reached the Isle. Celestia's dawn sun managed to cast thin shafts of light across the carpeted floor through the surprisingly effective barrier that Pink Sunset's blinds formed.

Wordlessly I turned to look at the source, the left corner of my mouth pulling up slightly into what could eventually become a smile. The floating sphere of water made a sloshing sound again - or rather, the occupant did.

"Hi, Fish."

Fish swam in a circle that I either took to mean he was giving me the sign to communicate his own greeting or he wanted me to pour more of those crispy potato wafers - chips, is what I think they were called - that he likes into his bubble. It's the one of the only things that he seems to like to eat and there's plenty of bags in the pantry for me to steal. It's not like I can offer many meal options to a creature that doesn't speak to me.

"You're going to miss me too, aren't you?"

Fish did a loop as if to indirectly remind me of how great I am.The gesture doesn't go unnoticed and I straighten my posture a bit.

"Well, guess what you little chip-snarfing degenerate? It looks like I won't be able to feed you for a while - end of the world and all. I'll be getting Mac to look after you. Got it?"

I decided to interpret the next swishing sound of water as understanding, before I turned to head on my way. It was hardly a secret that I'd want to spend as much time as possible with Luna before I had to go and the first part of the plan was put in motion. The last thing I needed would be another distraction to steer my thoughts elsewhere. That's exactly what I got.

Flashing off to the side was the glimmer of a reflective surface that had caught a stray beam of sunlight. The shine was obviously coming from the cabin's bathroom. Tearing my eyes away from the light dancing on the carpet, even if I did find the movement of the sunbeams to be horribly entrancing...

...So entrancing that I must have been staring at them a few moments longer than I thought, the patterns had shifted and the room's clock had 'skipped' forward two minutes. The smirk that had been threatening to appear all this time began to emerge until the left side of my mouth was curved into a decently roguish expression. Shaking my head, I managed to clear my mind of sunlight and lit dust motes and follow them to the source, as I had intended before I had been distracted.



...



Mac's poor attempts to avoid my gaze hadn't gone unnoticed by the very one she tried to avoid. I sat stoically across from her, as unamused and taciturn in image as I could be. Watching her shovel the contents of her bowl of ice cream into her face caused a twinge of disgust going through me.

"So..." Mac starts, trailing off to dab some ice cream dribbling from her muzzle with a crinkly, disposable napkin.

I gave her a flat stare.

"That certainly happened..."

"It did," I replied with an even flatter tone. Honestly, she almost looked nervous. If I weren't on the verge of boredom right now, my mind wandering elsewhere, I might have chuckled a bit. She really hadn't done anything wrong.

"Are you really that, um, full of yourself?" Mac ventures as cautiously as possible.

"You saw for yourself didn't you?" I arch an eyebrow and pick up a surprisingly subtle twitch from her; perhaps she knows that I can read her far more clearly than she thinks and is making more futile attempts to disguise it.

"It's just that you weren't on deck. Auntie Luna wanted me to go find you-"

"And instead you found me...?" Despite knowing the answer, I trail off and give her an expectant look, waiting for her to fill in the blank.

"...Kissing your reflection," Mac finally squeaks out.

"This terrifies you, why?"

She blinks and dares to look me in the, but only for a moment. "You aren't mad?"

"No."

"Not even a little?"

"Need I speak a language other than Equuish to get it through to you that I'm far more amused than I am angry?"

Had her next swallow been any more awkward, she would have likely choked on her next spoonful of ice cream. "Oh..."

"'Oh' indeed, Mac. Now do you have a good reason for sitting me down here and watching you eat that." I point to her bowl of sugary, runny, creamy, revolting ice cream and empathize my disgust as much as possible with the gesture.

Even though she's going to be the very mare devouring the stuff in the time that we aren't talking - and in between the moments when we are talking - she gives the contents of the bowl a look of pity.

"It's such a shame you don't like ice cream. Do you think that there might be vegan ice cream out there I could get you to eat? Gosh, I've never given much thought to vegan foods before, but I suppose if we'll be hanging out a bit more - y'know if the world doesn't..."

"I'm going to stop you right there," I say, interrupting her as soon as her voice starts to fall and her eyes glaze over with worry and something that is either existential dread or an early sign of indigestion. The latter I was not going to stick around to see, especially with all the ice cream that she's been eating. 

Now that I've got her distracted she returns her attention to me, the signs of her potentially darker thoughts dissipating like smoke. "Eh?"

Ugh, she really does sound like a crystal pony.

"First, I will not eat any vegan ice cream you attempt to give me. I also have little tolerance for sweet foods. Third, if I'm going to ingest anything that isn't already acceptable foodstuff or anything that isn't as bitter as my world view, I'm going to have to demonstrate some sense of taste, aren't I?"

"Which means...?"

"I'm a sorbet guy."

Mac opens her mouth as if she's going to say something, but has a momentary revelation. This is no doubt brought about by the fact that I'm glaring sharply at her in what could either be a death threat against any challenges made to my superior tastes or just disapproval. Slightly lethal disapproval.

Slightly.

She opts for a nod instead and shovels an extra spoonful of ice cream in her mouth. It's green ice cream too. Light green ice cream with flecks of brown in it. I try not to think about it too much.

It looks so absolutely disgusting I've unearthed less grotesque things from ruins and oh, by Orion's belt it looks like slime. Ugly, pastel slime...

"Once again, was there any specific reason you brought me here? Watching you eat this stuff is something I'm not enjoying."

"...I wanted to say good bye to you, if it wasn't too much to ask."

When my gaze takes her in, she shifts uncomfortably and looks away, noting my silence. "I'm not sure if you know it, but you really mean a lot to me, Sombra. I have a lot of friends and have maintained many of them since before I became a princess, but you're different. Sure, I can't do a lot of things I would normally do with friends with you since you're not a dork and all... but you've saved my life and you've helped me learn a lot about ponies, even if you aren't one. I didn't question a lot of things before... well, I'm not sure how to say it..."

"Kidnapped you?"

"That sounds so awkward."

"It's true."

"Okay then, before you kidnapped me I didn't question much. I had a nice life. Before I became a princess, I planned on starting a band. My parents loved me. My town loved me. I loved ponies. Becoming a princess was one of the biggest surprises I've ever had in my life, if not the biggest. I thought that if I put all the good values I learned into action, listened to everypony, loved ponies, and stayed optimistic everything would go well. I could depend on ponies, couldn't I? I thought I was learning. Auntie Celestia had so much to teach me about magic and government but after my wedding and Twilight saved the Empire..."

She sighed and looked at me with wide eyes that widened even more in surprise when she saw how intently I listened to her.

"It all just fell apart because I realized I couldn't depend on myself. I couldn't bear to tell Shiny. It just never came up even though - uh what's it called?"

"Ennui?" I suggested.

"Yup, that's a good word. Ennui. The ennui felt like it was everywhere. I didn't think I could do anything or that ponies deserved me as a leader. Sometimes Shiny and I still argued over things that weren't as important as ponies lives, like how mainstream his music choices were. Could a pony like that ever be a great leader or even a good one? I wanted to go somewhere and do something. I was a princess, and the princess of love, which I think is one of the most important things in life."

I suppose it might be like that for me too; while it certainly is far from the most important thing, especially in general, I wouldn't be here now if it weren't for Luna.

"For a pony who loves talking to others as much as I do, it felt tragic not being able to talk to anypony and having so many questions that felt incomplete and unanswered. I thought an adventure would change that."

"And did getting kidnapped improve your mental and emotional health?"

Mac smiles shakily and laughs. "You betcha it did! You gave me the start of a lot of answers and a lot of honesty. And sass. Always you and the sass."

"You're damn right. Me and sass go way back."

"I'm sure they do. But you've really helped a lot, Sombra. I can't think of any other terrifying, brooding, blunt, antisocial and mysterious snark beings that will tear me to pieces with an existential lecture and insult nearly everypony and everything as much as you. So, um, thanks."

I stare at her unblinking, wide-smiling, cheery expression. It appears that she's lost it.

"...Could you perhaps clarify anything specific that you're thanking me for?"

"Thank you for being an ass!" Mac chirps.

Yeah, she's lost it.

"Anytime. Now, I'll be spending the rest of my time with Luna on the deck-"

She abruptly sits up, causing the chair she had been sitting in to hit the ground with a loud crash. "WAAAAIT!"

I slowly sit back down and survey the frantic look in her eyes as coolly as possible. "...We're only about two feet away from one another, why don't you scream a little louder so I can hear you, hmm?"

"C-Can I ask you something?" 

Something's not right; she looks rather meek and-

Is she scared? Of me? What did I do this time...?

"Go ahead," I reply carefully. The air in the room suddenly feels heavy and everything is tenser. Even her usually wispy, fluttering magic emission feels a little restrained with her sudden demonstration of nervousness.

"Could I... give you a hug? I know it sounds weird and everything and I doubt you're the huggy type but this might be the last time I see you and-"

I silence her by holding up a single forehoof, now clad in a a gleaming new set of metal boots. A sleeker, but sturdy duplicate of my old set with only a few minor adjustments, such as a less obvious shine to the silver metal.

"Are you so airheaded today that I need to remind you to breathe?"

She swallows a large gulp of air and makes a sort of wheezing squeak in protest. When she speaks, her voice is a whisper.

"Is that a no?" she asks once her request is made.

"Hardly. You can give me one hug. After all, I'd hate to leave my favorite niece without a proper farewell."

She leans back slightly, blinking a few times and clearly startled. "Are you serious?"

Sighing, I look her in the eyes from my seated position, my face bearing a look of grim apathy and in the most dire, flat, hardened tone I speak the last words we'll possibly have with one another in the bleakest way I can manage:

"You betcha."



...




Luna:


I have been told many times that honest ponies make the worst liars. It is considered to be a simple truth, common knowledge that none would dare question. The first hundred times I have heard this, I have been puzzled why such a claim was made. By the thousandth time I have heard this I must refrain from scoffing and pointing out the folly of that statement. Now, I just let it pass like a sour wind, discomfort stirring as I must endure yet another mass falsehood so cheerily passed on, watching as they amount to a large pile like stones and filth tossed with accusations in days of old, when Celestia and I had to shield ourselves in our youth from such projectiles tossed at us by the Tribesponies. 

It becomes best not to go out of one's way to talk with others as my sister so readily advises. I will help ponies. I will listen to them. I will do my job to the best of my ability and squander no effort to try and improve myself. However, camaraderie and charity so meaninglessly lathered onto every situation instead of given the greatest meanings - trust, loyalty, faith, and others - is deeply displeasing and something I cannot stand.

I shall always seek to help those who need it most when they have fallen and cannot find answers to the great inquiries that haunt them, but I will not extend wisdom and friendliness as a default. If you seek a treasure behind a wall of ice, then you must thaw it carefully and gradually, lest it collapse. Honesty has always been something I would never refuse, whether I speak to a friend or a foe, a ruler or the ruled. And I have found that honest ponies would be the best liars if they chose to do so. Those who know of honesty's benefits and how to properly navigate games of deception are some of the most interesting, intelligent, and important individuals that I have seen.

Things like these only serve to give me more faith in Sombra's plan, as well as Sombra himself. How is it so hard to see that he possesses great intelligence and has invaluable information that could be no other source except straight from the hor- demon's mouth? 

Shining Armor still looked at him as though he were merely a lunatic, even as Sombra spoke of mistakes that we could easily avoid. To Shining, Sombra was 'only' a lunatic I held in high regard, but a lunatic nonetheless in his eyes. I had held my tongue during that time. Arguing then would help us not, but I wanted to tell him that he would not be so skeptical of the words Sombra spoke if it was his sister who spoke them. Even she has some eccentricities to her that many would dismiss in the same way if she were not bearing the labels of a demigod, the teachings of my own sister, and had the usual drivel about being 'well-bred' and 'from a good family' tossed upon her.

But I had held back, trying to take in as much as I could about Sombra's plan even if he would review it with me endlessly later that day had I asked him. It was a plan based on deception, withheld knowledge, and separation.

My forehooves nearly lost their grip on the deck's rail at the thought of that part of Sombra's plan. Drawing a deep breath, I leaned forward and watched the view in front of me become clearer as the airship chugged to a gradual stop, a low thunk reverberating through the ship, as though it hit an invisible barrier. I'm quite certain it had, but said nothing and continued to stare out at the sky before me, hiding some invisible place within magic-shrouds so great the air would normally crackle with the presence of anything... were it ordinary magic.

Charging my horn with a bright flash of white woven with a few visible shades of turquoise, I let the delayed signal flash high into the afternoon sky, where they burst brightly. The other spell I had cast with it gave my sense of hearing a push beyond equine ability so I might catch the voices conversing from within Pink Sunset. Shining Armor's was easily identifiable where he tried to protest a sassy remark Sombra gave him from the wheelhouse on why he was, in fact, excellent at flying the ship.

I didn't hear what they said. I really didn't care, to be frank. My whole body felt like lead, except for the stinging ache in my chest, as fresh as the day Sombra declared his plans, only now it had steadily deepened no matter how much he held me close and offered any kind of reassurance, both outright and quiet. I only wanted to hear his voice as much as I could, and memorize every little nuance to his tone and the little changes in it that only I heard and recall what it sounded like when he gave me his snarky smiles and told me he loved me.

...I wanted to see him too, I didn't want him to go, but I'd wait her as heavy as a stone, feeling anything but dull as I was crushed under the weight of my own thoughts and passions and listen in to his distant, muffled conversations even if they only sounded like echoes of what could soon be gone...

When I looked away from the remainder of bright cloud-white sparkles that rained down on the deck, tears were in my eyes, and it was not due to the harshness of the light.



...



Sombra's plan was not a simple one, and while it would require all of us to play our own parts the burden or orchestrating - and leading - such an operation would fall to Sombra, who works surprisingly well under pressure. Since he and I were the only ones that had any idea to what was really behind this concealed gateway, it would be Sombra and I who were to go through while Cady and Shining Armor managed the ship... and acted as a last resort if anything were to go wrong. Sombra would open the gate once the barrier around it was shattered. Sombra would be the one to go in first - he can sense magic, after all, so why wouldn't he be the first choice? Sombra would confront a being who has destroyed entire civilizations, gods like myself, billions of lives-

Sombra would be on his own for an entire week in the world beyond the Isle's gate before I would go in after him and seek out him and all he has learned of Umbra and his realm.

I agreed to this, but it did not change that I would miss him terribly and have to bite the inside of my cheek to prevent from asking the obvious question of if it was the right time for Cady and I to begin working on a gate when seven days pass even after only an hour had elapsed...

The last pony I missed this much was Tia when I was-

"Luna?" Sombra calls, and I feel his forehoof touch my wither. My head spins as I pull my thoughts back into something more focused and look at Sombra. His sword is sheathed at his side and he has a plain pair of saddlebags that look very underpacked. A worried expression dominates his features and only then do I notice the cold feel of metal seeping through my coat.

I offered him no reply other then to look him in the eyes - and I felt my legs of lead dissolve under me as every shred of composure I had retained was torn away and I collapsed into his side, nuzzling his wither and pulling him closer. Burying my muzzle into his cloak, I began to cry quietly. He stroked my mane without question and made sure I was as comfortable as possible as we sat together on the sun-warmed metal deck. A warm breeze blew by and carried no false promises that Sombra and I could offer one another. We were hardly the sort for that kind of talk. Lies. Those words - definite promises that could be nothing but flimsy and offered false reassurance, like some standard sugar-coated fodder were nothing but lies.

Sombra's winter coat still hasn't come out yet and I want to stay in his hug like this as long as possible. It feels like home - warm and solid, this - he - couldn't vanish like this.

He wouldn't.

He shall.

When I start shaking, he offers a soft, low purr and does not stop until I can no longer do so and relax. My sobs may have ceased but I feel as though I have taken a blow to the chest - it feels as though I have a wound, some nasty sort of cut, from the inside out that aches with a dreadful intensity.

"Luna?" he offers again.

"I don't want this to be over." My voice hasn't sound this small and torn in ages...

"Do you really think that everything will be over just because I won't be here?"

"If something happens to you-"

"Would that really be the same thing?"

"It would feel like it. No, it would feel worse not because I would have never known you, but because I did. Then you would be gone, stolen from me and damaged beyond recognition o-or-"

"You do know that there was more to me picking why I should go see what's on the other side first than my ruthlessness and knowledge of dark magic?"

We have not been in any truly open space, like the Sky Scraper's deck, for some time and yet he still smells like wind - a tiny detail I cannot help but savor.

"Mmm."

"You."

"Mmm?" I mumble through the fabric of his cloak. Sombra sighs - but it sounds much more wistful than annoyed. He continues to let me cradle my head against his wither, turning my eyes away from everything to shut everything but us out right now. I give him a tighter hug as a silent gesture of gratitude. Perhaps too tightly for his taste because he coughs in a not-so-silent response.

"There's nothing truly final for me, for one."

"You are indeed unbreakable," I whisper. A small part of my mind seeks out the time passing around us - and that is exactly what it feels like. Time does feel to be passing around us. We are frozen. Immortal. Unchanging.

Eternal.

...And some part of us will always be.

I have never believed in soul mates, true love, and other courtly notions that fail to speak of more than the silliest kinds of naiveté and fancy - ones that I never indulged even a bit of belief in - but I believe wholeheartedly in Sombra. I think that I am starting to believe in myself again too, and with those two, I believe in us.

Sombra and I, Luna.

I could not imagine this belief faltering; he and I have made it through so much, and while I think we can make it through much more...

...I do not know if this is exactly how I would define 'much more'...

"Luna, you can still go on if something happened to me, even if it would take literal ages. You're the strongest pony I know - and I'm not using 'pony' literally there, so don't think too hard about that part - as well as responsible for controlling celestial bodies and guarding the very dreams of ponies. You, Luna Galaxia, are worth saving in both my egotistical opinion and in the long and complicated reasons I care not to get into. Only Celestia would be left if you both were to survive another Collapse, and I wouldn't even trust her to feed Fish. But a world without dreams? That's no world at all."

"Sombra..." I breathed, the only thing I could think to say as I listened to these words. A chill spread across me, and even Sombra's embrace - if he were aware of the sudden sensation that had overcome - could not warm me. Need I have a more unmistakable sign that there is a deep truth to the words he speaks with such zeal?

"Celestia is bound to ponies, Luna. You aren't. No matter how hard I try - even if I wanted to with every fibre of my being, I could not find you to be an aspect of a society or the gear in a machine that shouldn't be. You have never made yourself one. You are the only one who I believe could save anything that matters were another Collapse to happen. You're unyielding to anything and stubborn - something that you should want to be more of when the time is right and the world needs, whether it knows it or not. Oh, and if the world's going to try to be even fickler than usual and be a stubborn, uppity bitch about it, then you can just show it who's boss, Miss I-Can-Conjure-Hurricanes-Like-Nopony's-Business."

My ears prick forward to catch the sound of the softest giggle, it sounds tired, yet there is a mirth to it - however weary that mirth may be. Sombra nudges me to alert me that I'm missing something, and then I realize... that the giggle is mine. I register the subtlest shifts in Sombra and tilt my muzzle up from where I had buried it in the folds of his cloak to accept a nuzzle.

"Do you have anything more to say to me?" I asked quietly, blinking as my eyes took in the bright noon sun. I wanted to get as good a look at Sombra's face as I possibly could.

"Always."

Returning my head to where it had rested on his wither, I continued to stay in the arguably un-royal position I was in: slumped in the embrace of Sombra's forehooves, now with my mane rippling against his chest as I looked up at him while he spoke.

"You survived one Collapse, Luna. I believe you could survive another, and would have the motivation to build up something if anything's left - or find a new world to call your own altogether... even if I can't see it with y-you-"

"Sombra, please do not fret so! I have faith in us both, in our plan - more than faith, I-"

"I know," he says sadly. "It's just... a possibility, one I hope never comes into fruition."

"And that is a sentiment we share," I finish hoarsely, trying to relax once again. I hadn't realized that I had ceased to in the first place. How foolish of me.

"I have you, Luna. You and I. Us. I have a world to explore and things to learn. Ponies don't depend on me. I don't have a sister who's sanity is linked to me being by her side. I would only restore something in a world that has collapsed for our sake-"

"That is not such a bad thing! Were you not the one who has offered insight into the merits of selfishness, as unbelievable as it may sound when I speak it aloud?"

"I never said it was a 'bad' thing, but it would be true that I wouldn't care to do anything that you might. I don't wonder about ponies in the same ways that you do."

'Oh, but Sombra what is a world with Dreams, but no Knowledge?' I wanted to say, but found the words caught in my throat, which felt choked once again. My eyes grew damp once more. I wanted to grab hold of him and tell him that my heart felt like it was sinking with each passing moment as we sat here. I felt dizzy. I didn't want to let him go alone. We were equals, and I wanted us to bear this burden together.

I want something more to remember Sombra by...

A humorless chuckle caught my attention. "I must be doing a horrible job if I'm not that memorable to you, even now."

"Oh..." I managed, my face growing warmer. "Did I really say that out loud?"

"No, I've suddenly decided to take a rather opportune moment to delve into the wonders of listening to other's thoughts!"

"With your spooky demon powers, of course."

"So your farewell to me is to be racist? Touching."

"To be demon racist," I correct, quickly batting at his jaw and managing the most fragile of smiles while he offers only a grunt in reply, no doubt a faint bit annoyed with my use of 'demon'.

"...Would you - somehow, as virtually impossible as it would be for immortals like us - ever forget me? Even a little?"

"Never," I reply without a second's delay, and pull myself out of Sombra's embrace so I can help him up. As expected, he does not hesitate to accept my forehoof.

"...And you only speak the truth," Sombra says, something in between melancholy and the slightest traces smile on his face, looking one another in eye as we stood together, indisputable in our position as equals.

I nod somberly, unable to keep my head bowed for long. There was so much more of Sombra I wanted to see: his bravery, his happiness, his mischief,  his thoughtfulness, and everything else. Undoubtedly, there was so much more to him that I desired to see and now it all felt like it was all going to disappear and shift into the distant but lucid nostalgia of an untouchable memory, whose best qualities are but an elusive ghost lost to passing time even where clarity lingers...

Too lost in the somber haze of sadness that weighs me in place, making me as grounded as an earth pony, yet without the comfort of the world's heartbeat echoing through me, I do not see Sombra move - but I know when he grabs me and pulls me close to him, breaking the spell of stillness that had ensnared me with what would be our parting kiss.

Never have I wanted anything to last forever. My immortal heart and mind know all too well what 'forever' truly is and the burdens and blessings that come with it. To desire a moment to be in immortal in all but memory is lunacy! Yes, I wanted this to last but not to be everlasting that was what Sombra and I were. A small part of me dared to wish that we could attempt to make us everlasting as well. I could not doom myself to repeat this single moment forevermore, though I shall savor it no matter the outcome of this journey...

Yet, when he pulls away it feels more like a tear between us. He manages to muster a deviousness that is as out of place as we would be in the streets of any mortal city and look at me with a playfulness that would fade in memory and photograph. Its vividness is only able to be experienced when we stand face to face like this.

"Will that be enough to remember me by?"

Hardly - do you think a single moment could ever really capture you? There is no second that could be said to hold the 'quintessential Sombra'. You are so much more than that-

Everything builds up in my throat, and for a moment when he leans forward to nuzzle my brow I feel faint and choked by the peculiar swelling that begins in one's throat when they are on the verge of tears.

"I really do have to go now," he says softly. "I can't linger like this. It's plain that I'm hurting you because of it, but before I do... I want to thank you for giving me the best year of my life. That is, if we never se- ahem. When I do return, it'll be the best year so far. Do you really think I'm going to lose?"

No, no! Of course not! You are the Right-Honourable Lord Sombra, who has a heart and mind that could rival the sun itself!

I wanted to tell him this, to say something, anything to bring a smirk to his face and get his arrogance - how I've come to miss it such a brief time - to show once again... but... it all just dissolved before I could even whisper it. I felt strangled and fell over into his forehooves. While still standing, Sombra had managed to catch me while I leaned against forehooves. I pressed my ear to his chest, but only heard my own heart hammering and whimpered.

That would be my start. I needed to muster the fire, the temper, and fierceness he radiated so easily and break this numbing feeling. I would be desperate. I had to say something, I had already managed a sound, now I need only force something out. Time was passing quicker than I would have liked and everything feels like an eternity could pass if I were to blink even once-

But-

But-

I can do this.

I can fight, as Sombra does. I can wait another time, but not now. I shall make progress. With it I will break the one kind of silence I have never wanted in myself, even if I hear tears in my voice, I shall strike this cursed muteness and say-

"D-Double or nothing, Sombra..."
> Chapter 41: The Clockwork Otherworld
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Sombra:


A crude pillar of äerint whirls past me. It was three steps from where I was about to be; sparks stream behind me. The wail of crystal grinding crystal blending into the rest of the discordant noise that assaulted my ears as I continued to try and navigate routes that were never the same twice. Everything around here was changing. Walls whirled and curved. Floors unraveled beneath my hooves, and sometimes this happened as soon as I stepped on them. Half-built domes of dully shining gray deconstructed themselves in the darkness and rebuilt themselves miles away in this vast place under the gray void that was the equivalent of the sky, yet nothing like it.

Entire segments of this place reworked themselves and turned like cogs. The thunderous click of what sounded like twisted clockwork shook the walls. My ears still rung when I heard those sounds, even though I was sure I had been here for at least an hour. There were far harsher noises that were the cause of the headache I had. On top of that, my jaw still ached; I still clenched it tight to keep from gritting my fangs. The brief, burning throbbing that had initially consumed it had faded from where a spike of äerint had swept past me and I didn't duck fast enough to avoid a bit of a scrape.

But it could really be far, far worse...

No pony could survive this place. They'd starve or be crushed at the least, as well as die of dehydration - there wasn't a drop of water in sight - not to mention not being able to move: again, they'd get lost and die. Dark magic would prey upon them. Their 'precious' sanity would be shattered. That's really what would get to them. No pony who hadn't been through something like Luna and I, who hadn't felt even a bit of what eternity could be and just how brutal time would be as they lingered on in states that they were designed not to be able to overcome would survive this. I have been in such a place and had experienced and known things my whole life that would help me pull through this. But for a pony? For an idiot who adopts the moniker of hero? I could safely say that would be impossible.

The clicking of ancient gears that never ceased changing their forms. The deep echo they produced was not the only sound that filled this place. There was no silence. Everything was a constant, screeching that followed no pattern and swept over everything in waves, originating from various locations, since everything here made some kind of horrendous, ear-splitting sound that would have driven a normal pony deaf after long enough. It was always loud and tense. Finally, I gave in and gritted my teeth as a long string of what sounded like pops and beeps rang out from somewhere nearby.

What kind of place is so awful that silence is an impossibility? I thought. Or maybe I said it. I wasn't paying attention, though I'm sure my mouth moved even if it was only to grind my teeth again. If I really did say anything out loud, it was lost in all this noise and I couldn't even hear my own words begin or end.

The board of äerint came to a halt under my hooves as I tugged it with magic and held myself fast to keep from flying off. I felt fine, but still knew better than to not look around and catch any shifts in my surroundings since any nearby changes would eventually spread to my location like a ripple does in water.

Cold is what would really kill anything that made the mistake of venturing here. A pocket dimension isn't like where I was imprisoned, where the cold there could tear apart the most vital parts of any creature's spirit and freeze them in ways more brutal than any physical exposure ever could be. Even the highest reaches of the Arctic couldn't hope to rival an icy prison like mine... and mine was unlikely to ever rival Luna's celestial isolation.

That didn't prevent the current conditions, though. A place as vast as this that has been sealed for so long has a chill to me, which is something that shouldn't be. Cold has become... anything but that to me from my experiences. But if I can feel a chill, then I know this place has a lethal temperature.

Growling in irritation at the constant trembling of the crystalline surface, I flick my ears - which does nothing. A small wave of crimson magic that wasn't there before ripples faintly and disperses. I certainly wasn't going to go deaf in here, so a barrier needed to be established. With another, softer growl I note that my efforts are in vain... I'm still rather fluffy. Beneath me, the ground shifts and begins to rip in half with a peculiar crashing noise - like that of a giant maw being torn from nowhere, its teeth gnashing. I take a sudden leap off to the side, having detected a subtle shift in magic seconds earlier. I replace the board of äerint beneath me and hitch a ride on what looks like a low wall forming wall nearby.

Everything resumes, echoes grow into something indistinct, and I move on.



...



This entire maze - this horrid, chilling maze - wasn't the best place to be even if I wasn't going to succumb the effects it had. The entire structure was floating in a flipping black hole for lack of me being in the proper mood for technical terms. It also radiated magic like nothing I've felt before. Even as I tried to avoid introducing my gorgeous face to a wall that had the nerve to suddenly appear in front of me - what can I say, I've never been one for introductions or first impressions - I had a hard time picking my own magic out of the sensory blur roaring around me.

My magic of all things. The same magic that is unmistakable to me; it is me and...

It feels indistinct in all this. Pinpricks travel up my spine and under my cloak and I jump to the right, off the äerint slab I had been using and it dissolves with a momentary flash of magic. A jagged spire erupts from the ground right where I had been and soars into oblivion, purple and green magic popping around it like bubbles, hissing and dispersing. Only a moment later, a mass of crystals weaves its way up from the ground, crashing all its parts together to form an obstruction that I jump over with ease. Physical strength has never been something I had been lacking, but I'm far prouder of my reflexes that enable all this not to be a disaster.

I hit the ground running and quickly press myself into a canter, dodging any obstacles as a crowded series of what are too crude to pass for corridors, but can't really be called much else take form. Pits lurk in them, but I leap again with ease, the metal of my boots screeching into the noise pollution around me as sparks fall on the crystal.

Beneath me, the ground quavers again and I bound out of the way as a twin spire tries to claw its way above. In the process, my left leg is nearly caught in a crevice. Growling, I jerk it free but am thrown off balance. My stride ceases to be powerful, but I manage to cope with something as simple as being unbalanced. Immediately after a few stumbling steps my horn glows, and I coalesce as much aura as I can on my horn - enough to pass as an immodest bonfire - and weave it into frost to coat the crystalline surface a few feet ahead of me. 

Even without the noise of crunching and glass-like shattering and the ability to feel what's happening, the icy feeling in my chest, my blood running cold, and the fierce feeling - a shade of something like vindictiveness - leveling a bit lets me know that I had succeeded. Though, I wouldn't expect any failure from magic that has always been simple for me. The ice reaches up to catch the metal of my boots when I'm close enough, crawling across the surface and 'trapping' me there as I'm pulled to a stop. There's no point in exchanging any form of conversation even with myself. After a frosty exhale, I thaw the ice and leave the watery mass to be forgotten and venture deeper into a labyrinth where I leave no hoofsteps.



...



Three thousand years ago - roughly, of course; exact dates aren't exactly my focus right now - this place was formed under circumstances that I might never know. This entire void would have been just that - void. All pocket dimensions are. Yes, most have grounds. This one probably does too, but it's too far below for me to see it - if I could see anything beyond this maze surrounding me, all from one bit of äerint and worked from there into this machine. In fact, I bet it's faded from not being held into focus for what must have been ages. With a trap like this, there really isn't much of a need for one and expending the scope of a pocket dimension that much would be a waste.

With a roll of my eyes, I press on  and casually slip into shadow to phase through a wall. The after effect of phasing through a wall of äerint is a strange one that's neither agonizing or enjoyable. I'm left emerging on the other side and coalescing instinctually, but magic ripples through me once I've returned to equinoid form and I twitch violently...

...and grit my teeth again. Surprise, surprise.

Blood roars in my ears - at least I can still hear that - and I have energy to spare. This may be a formidable test, or it might not be. Personally, I'm going with the latter. This place does not feel like it's an intentional test, but all this adds up and regardless of purpose, I will learn something. That is why I never lose - no matter what is thrown at me, a what or a who, or why I'm being challenged by. If I learn anything at all, no matter how twisted each shred of knowledge, I've already won.

One slip up, one overlooked detail, a single crack in a facade - anything at all. I'll be able to use it to get what I want. I'll be able to use them. All it takes is one shred of knowledge and one of me, the rest of the world at my disposal as a resource is optional. I can't lose if I keep on learning. I can't stop learning if I can't stop wanting. I can't stop wanting if I can't stop thinking.

It goes on, of course. I'm well aware of how dangerous this is - of how dangerous I am. I always have been. Which is why I'm perfect for this; who better to save the world than the one who can't lose it? Who can learn from every mistake before they add up to a failure? 

Only my esteemed self was fit for that task.

The constant cacophony had become marginally less bothersome, but the ground beneath me shook furiously. I lurched forward, gasping at the suddenness even though the sound was lost in everything else. To my horror, the ground beneath me started to crack, jagged fissures erupting in the äerint's surface as it pulled apart. In the split second after I detected something rather interesting in the way the air around me changed: a sudden rush of it swelled up and rustled my mane. The air was stale and it was easy to tell that it hadn't moved in a long, long time.

"This had better be worth it," I muttered as I considered the distant pinpricks of something lurking below the topmost layer of crystal.

And then I was plummeting toward whatever lay below, an expression of pure boredom on my face.



...



The green eyes of my shadow form caught the outlines of fragments of something foreign embedded in various parts of the masses of äerint, like pieces of bone that were left over from the mysterious remains of something larger. These were no bones, even as I fell rapidly I could still see that. What I saw were the remains of various weapons - most likely mortal craft since they were in various states of damage, some to the point of being beyond recognition. While there wasn't any erosion here or winds, not a single one had escaped some kind of damage; magical burns left many in a state of being barely intact and charred to the point where it was hard to believe they hadn't crumbled to dust, if the brief glimpses I caught were any indication of what they would be like close up.

All that rose above me as I fell were once named weapons to be in the possession of mortals who crusaded about and quested, sometimes in service of the Alicorns and others independent warriors and mages who were sought out for their skill and experience - which was, of course, often helped in part with their fame. I've read numerous accounts of the life in those ages, where mercenaries like myself were able to walk a boldly defined line between legend and reality. Legends were reality then, and now the skeletons of the blades of legend - many with enchantments and blessings from Alicorns that would be worth more than the entirety of present-day Manehatten - whose names appeared in epics alongside those who wielded them, and were often written after theirs on contracts.

They stuck out of the walls like spikes, but once they would have been more than these splinters. I can't fathom a weapon being treated with nearly that much respect. Three guesses to why. If I could get closer, I might even recognize some of these if they weren't as damaged as I took them to be.

These thoughts quickly were replaced with ones about the Book. Falling makes the world around me feel like only an instant passes, or there's the times I feel I could think forever in the instant I fall. I rather enjoyed both, and while the former usually occurred - not that it bothered me much, I am a quick thinker - this time was an exception.

It's gone.

I did it. I really it did. Really, truly gone and by my name it took so little to do it...

While my saddlebags haven't been on my back since before I decided to embrace my current situation, I felt myself ripple at their memory... and the fire...

Doing that particular deed had been so simple physically and magically, and I almost hated it. Mentally? It was like pulling teeth, and my mind felt a million miles away as I took one last look at that cursed thing... the thing that made me... before cramming it back into my enchanted saddlebags. It may not have been the entire truth, but I had to keep telling myself that I wasn't there to keep going. It was slow. It was surreal.

And it kept happening...

I really did loathe the simplicity of it all; the entire plan felt like clockwork. Shove the Book in the saddlebags and swallow. Of course the sound of my gulping had been drowned out. Why was I gulping in the first place?

Then I lit the saddlebags on fire and watched the green and violet flames begin to spread across the fabric...

Really, I couldn't help but be entranced by that sight before I hurled the thing off into the unknown and watching the arc of ashes scatter across the still-shifting and savage world-within-a-world that managed to make me feel concealed instead of draw attention to me, whether I liked it or not. I don't know why I thought of a shooting star as I watched ashes rain down, but I did. I would have lingered longer, perhaps even brushed the cinders from my mane, but the ground had tilted and stirred. I had jumped out of the way just in time to watch a row of spikes erupt from the ground.

Somewhere nearby, I felt the impact of my imitation star through a ripple of magic that I was able to detect in the ground. In the distance, fire had begun to spread rapidly and I was able to watch the flames begin to coat the crystal mechanism I've been traveling through, but do no damage to its surface. Green and violet did nothing to brighten how dark everything still was.

But in a that moment, they tried. And all around me, the world was burning.

I had blinked once before moving on.

Below me, I feel my feel my shadow form brush solid ground, and in a second I resume my equinoid form and shadow becomes hooves.

Maybe...

Maybe... without the obvious difference in my horn, my fangs, and of course my red eyes I could actually pass for a pony. On the outside, at least. I lack the disturbing nature that lurks in most ponies. In fact, to be a pony is an almost frightening thought. Almost. I sigh - the sound, once again, is lost but I feel myself do so - and pull my hood up, tucking a stray lock of my mane under my hood. While I do notice it fall out again, I don't bother to care.

Umbra is going to know that there's something not pony-like about me within seconds of meeting me. Working any disguise would be too much of a signal flare in terms of magic sensing, but little distraction charms will be perfect even if I find my features far too lovely to be distracted from. My hood and any of my more taciturn behaviors should do the rest, since I'll want to be keeping the fact that I'm a demon hidden for as long as I can in order to offer ambiguity to my nature while simultaneously beginning to study Umbra's.

The äerint beneath my metal-clad hooves felt unusually solid. Only the thick shadows rippling across its surface gave the illusion of movement. Narrowing my eyes in the darkness, I proceeded with caution. Lacking Luna's night vision, I wasn't able to make out the details of my surroundings as clearly as she would have been able to. Dim outlines cloaked in dark shadows and the faint gleam of äerint when I looked a certain way and allowed what little light there was in this dull world to touch the äerint's crooked facets. However, I felt the pull of magic, and it was strong. The feeling of something powerful - and something close going off just how distinct this particular energy felt - washed over my coat.

For a while, I stood there trying to decipher as much as possible from the subtle ways the magic felt, as I always had, in order to know what I might be facing. This was all far easier to me than it sounds, just as ponies learn to tell different voices apart and the way words sounded or how to read, I learned the language of magic and pieced together what each sensation and nuance meant, learning to read its intent and purpose. I could feel the strength of enchantments and even detect purpose.

Some creatures - not ponies, of course, nor griffions or any kind of species I've come into contact with - have neither hooves or claws. Primates from the Southern Continent's jungles have something called fingers on their paws, which aren't really called that; they're called hands, but seeing how limited, dull, and... simple they are, I'd take hooves and a horn any day. But the imprints on each of their fingers - I still seriously wonder why these creatures don't notice the similarities to their lovely paws and spiders - are unique to the individual, which isn't something many physical features that don't require some kind of ocular enhancement have. Hoofprints can be used to tell something about a pony and so can paw prints, but to identify an individual with that alone? 

Nope. It's just not the same. Those prints are certainly peculiar; they operate much like magical imprints, but far less complex. 

Magical imprints work in a similar way. I can feel them and identify the species that left the trace. Certain creatures - mostly Alicorns - have such distinct traces that they can be identified without much work on my part. Just basking in the presence of that magic would be enough for me to name the caster, were no other work or time needed.

The magic I felt around me was incredibly strong; there was definitely the work of a demon here, but...

There was something else too, a kind of magic that felt like whoever had this magic was of a somewhat similar tier of power... but it was off. The magic felt shapeless and detacthed, wild yet chained... and there were many unique traces somewhere nearby, but they were all altered and possibly sealed. Curious, I walked on. I had hoped this would prove to be interesting and I certainly was doing something worth my while.

As I told Luna, since when am I ever wrong?



...



My breath was caught in my throat and I blinked in surprise, my eyes widening in the dark when I saw the gate in front of me. I may not be able to feel cold, but the temperature around me felt like it dropped quite a bit. After all, there's nothing as intimidating as being in this desolate place, visibly barren of life, and about as lovely as the company of She Who Strives For Everlasting Scolding Over My Every Action feeling... moderately chilly! I snorted. The sound was almost audible over the constant clanging of everything above me. The cavern-like location I found myself in shook with the workings and movements above.

Everything but the gate before me was in constant movement. There was no steady pulse of magic in this world like Midgard had - no heartbeat of magic at all, only chaotic shaking. I couldn't help but be amused at the drastic differences: here the world always shifted and nothing was the same, but the world outside this all - Midgard and the other realms, even worlds beyond my own - is where everything was constant. 

Caught in the grip of the malicious crystal and held firmly in place was a neat trail of bones that still burned with some magic despite their age. Like stepping stones, they were barely distinct in what part of what creature they came from. Each outline in the dark led up to the gate in the mass of äerint only a few lengths away. The bones embedded there, served as a macabre sight  to boast of what horrors might lurk within. Though, I was used to most anything of that nature and wasn't as moved as somepony else would be. Spiraling from the ground like the gruesome little trail it was, each desecrated fragment losing the indistinct quality that the pieces at my hooves had, clearly left whole even if their entirety wasn't visible through their prison.

Each bone was arranged in a way that vaguely mimicked an outline of a pose that the dragon-like creature might have taken in life, even if many of the bones were clearly in the wrong place. I gave the structure another once-over. Just what kind of creature was this? The body was supported by four legs that were likely deformed since I couldn't find an entirely identical bone among them - all the proportions were off and the same went for the wings, neither of which were close to looking functional, even if their size was impressive. The skull was what intrigued me, truthfully. I've spent my earliest years living in what might as well have been a tomb. Seeing the bones of ponies isn't anything new, strange, or unsettling to me. For most ponies it's as familiar as...

...Hmm...

I sift through a few of Privileged Purple Princess' memories trying to find something suitable for my comparison.

...The presence of a sibling. There. That'll do, it's constant and everyday, and still something that one could try and imagine their life without and know that they don't need this in their life, but good luck getting rid of it. I can't exactly think of any other way to define it, being a demon.

One of the many things I was able to learn in the Crystal Empire, both through grisly experiences and various books on the subject, was about how to read the story a creature's bones and corpse told. It wasn't exactly hard for somepony with a mind as quick as mine and who did what I did...

Shaking my head, I try to dispel the thoughts from becoming something more than unneeded recollection. The slight headache I have isn't helping much either. Seriously, if you're going to make a bloody doomsday dimension, give it more style than just having it be death labyrinth beyond anypony's control that produces harsh noise all the time. I was expecting to be a bit more entertained instead of just presented with the most ominous place I've been yet. A golem would have been neat. Unnecessary, but neat. If I ever get the compulsion, I might lay aside a few centuries to make one of these things myself. A better one. But for now I have ancient magical remains to investigate. Carefully, I step over the trail of bones to reach the skull centerpiece. Like everything else, it's stuck fast in the äerint, which creeps over it and digs the edges in to keep the bone stuck fast.

I've never seen this species of dragon before, if these bones are from a dragon at all. I certainly don't know what it could be from otherwise if not some kind of dragon. The size of the teeth, eye sockets, and jaw, which are stuck together in the crystal's grip indicate that the creature is a male, even if the mismatched legs won't be of much help. While I've only met so many species, bones don't differ that much. While I need to examine most species' remains to note certain details about them, I would have been able to classify those of a pony without so much as a second glance.

I'm careful not to touch the bones physically or magically, even if there's nothing to detect in terms of traps or any other enchantments that might linger. My horn begins to glow with soft traces of dark magic and I take a few steps to the side of the skull and keep walking backwards until I know that I'm cloaked in shadows. In the background, far above me, shifting äerint grinds and the world trembles. I pay it no mind instead, choosing to keep my focus on my magic.

There's not much in this little world that could be considered alive. First and foremost, there is Umbra, who haunts this place - his own creation - with his presence. The next is a what-if: Alicorns. The possibility of Alicorns - imprisoned, trapped, really who knows? - lingering is what brought Luna here. It's improbable, but so are many of the truest, most impossible things. I hardly consider what she does a foal's errand even if I can't sympathize with her goal-wise.

And of course, saving the best and the most important for last.

Me.

I'm here for a lot of things, just like Luna.

She seeks family and restoration. Peace and closure. Honor. To rid the world of one like Umbra, though her methods may be considered inadequate and rash by those who don't know what it is they're doing while she seeks the answers about the fate of her kind. And hope, she yearns for hope too.

The bones that mark the rough gate in front of me loosen as the äerint that they've been trapped in inches away with crystalline clinks. The sound creeps throughout the cavern, echoing as the crystal recedes with it to create a gap in the chilly tomb. Really, was I supposed to think this place any different from the Crystal Empire - a magical perversion with some world-eating or wonderful abomination at the core of it all?

Soon, I've drawn back more than a sizable opening for me to stroll through, the maybe-dragon's bones floating in the air where I'd skillfully stripped the äerint away from the landmark that served as both the key and the obstruction.

I dismissed the dark aura and the bones clattered to the ground. While the sound was loud - somewhat louder than I'd anticipated - it only rang out for a moment, along with the noise of some of the time-worn remains breaking. Despite their magical potency and the shelter offered from most of time's effects, the bones were still incredibly weak. Inherent magical potency doesn't guarantee immunity from fragility or apparent weakness from lack of potential and other things like under utilization. Dare I even mention a certain Lilac Lack-wit?

I just watched them fall in silence, cautiously taking a few steps closer to the entryway, carefully keeping to an ear to the wall when I thought I heard something on the other side. Of course, I'd be unlikely to make out anything beyond vibrations, but I wasn't about to throw caution to the wind just yet. I didn't hear anything at all, which was an oddity in this place. I needed no better sign to tell me that I should go through the gate. Taking care to not get my cloak caught on the thick, jagged, and malformed äerint surface of the wall that served to separate me from whatever silent mysteries lurked past it.

Eventually I stand ready at the gate, the world solid beneath my hooves for once. I let out a short sigh and silently watch my breath take a form in the cold I cannot feel, and stare on as the small fog vanishes just as quickly before I lift my gaze to the black abyss that lies beyond the edges of the äerint gate. The depths almost beckon me, feeling cool and familiar. How could I be reminded of anything other than the void where I resided for so long?

...And they radiate an overpowering sensation of coldness, as if there's been magic pinned and frozen inside, which is more than enough to tempt me to go in.

So much magic was in there, and it poured out in a wave reminiscent of the freezing arctic winds, which like everything else 'cold' had lost their effect on me. Yet if I were to close my eyes, just for a moment and remember things from before the Empire, memories of mine forever vivid with immortality's clarity.  I found them lingering somewhere between nostalgic and so recent that I could feel the icy bite of wind still tearing at my throat as I struggled against a blizzard-

Magic pricks at my coat instead, despite the cloak I wear, which being made of my own magic helped filter out many lesser waves and magical sensations. My cloak also helped amplify many of the stranger, rarer, and more powerful ones that I ought to pick up on and pull apart piece by piece in order to attain a better understanding of what or who I was in the company of. That, of course, was what the cloak did naturally, and only as a side effect of it being my magic bent into a particularly tangible form and woven into something far more complex instead of some mere illusion or conjuration work. If I wanted to, I could actually do something suitably impressive with the cloak, but I usually just leave it as it is.

So yes, I do wear it for a reason. Or two. Mostly because it's really comfortable...

While I offer no reaction to the stray flow of magic that pulled me out of my reverie, I'm surprised at just how unusual it feels... I've felt a dragon's magic on more than one occasion and that is not the magic of a dragon. Whatever it was, even after three thousand years, it was more powerful than the magic of any dragon to have held on this long... and it felt so disorganized, for lack of a better word.

Staring into the abyss boredly, I size up the thing that thinks it's so great because it contains things that test mortal sanity and go beyond most all forms of understanding with how twisted the contents that lie within could be. I'm neither mortal or sane, so I'm overconfident that whatever is in there - possibly whoever - won't be able to best me.

...Luna came here to find her family, hope, answers, and closure. I imagine there's many other things that she simply didn't tell me, or didn't want to disclose. Many of the reasons that she came here were for herself, and they are the best reason among her parcel of ambitions, where her drive is strongest. I yearn to see some of that selfishness fostered and for confidence to emerge.

Yet, what is it I came here for? I've come for knowledge and answers, for Luna, and to see if I could ever find myself loved by her. There isn't a lie among this or any clear ace to be spotted. I even came close to telling Luna the extent of it... that I desired revenge upon Umbra for something.

And I do. I want gruesome, brutal revenge upon Umbra, and no the reason isn't for destroying entire civilizations or ending billions of lives, but those are both reasons I want Umbra gone. He has one far greater crime, one that I can't find to be topped by anything I know he's done, and suffice to say that it has been rooted in my fury and selfishness almost as deeply as my love for Luna and myself. My pride has been tempered into something far more deadly and patient than any would expect.

I don't lose.

Even if I could, I won't.

I've waited for everything I've ever wanted and spent a fair deal of scheming to rake in as many chances as I can get and twisting Luck's hoof behind her back as much as I please to the point where it's become as commonplace for me. I bargain. I steal. I gamble. I know when to take a chance and let things unfold just as often as I know when to assume direct control of what is happening. Tartarus' flames, I might as well be Fate itself, were I not above it. I am doubtful of such a concept existing unhinged and absolute, too.

I may only just now be an official god, but I've been playing the role of one all my life. As a mortal, I dragged the Crystal Empire into oblivion and was able to eek out something like immortality - temporary, of course - in order to ensure I'd have some time to be invulnerable were I to come back from the void I had known for so long...

I'm ruthless in many ways. I'm bold. I'm tricky. I'm arrogant and my pride hardly knows any bounds. I'm stubborn and angry enough to keep going. But most of all, I'm intelligent enough to keep them from becoming something unlike me - monstrous or some lesser evil, take your pick - and much more useful and defining for myself.

And those and more are the qualities that have gotten me what I've wanted. Not kindness that was given freely or empathy tossed to all. Humility be damned, if I had any in me I'd be dead or worse.

I didn't come here for reasons that are lacking in any kind of twisted philosophy or desire. This is me, and I've had quite a few of those, all drifting around the idea of 'murder your enemies', really. I know that I'm not the only demon, but I'm not going to let that continue for much longer. I have always desired revenge upon who or whatever created me, not that I would have thought I would have ever gotten it... but banishment gives me more than enough time to think. Mostly about her.

I want to be the last of my kind.

I don't care whoever's left, I want to end them. I've been burning with hatred and ideas of destruction and torment just for my own species, who I've only wanted to see broken...

With a deep breath, I exhale another icy breath into the gaping maw of a gateway in front of me. The lack of a response doesn't come as a surprise. Silently, I sway on my legs, counting each time I do so. They should probably be tired by now, though I'll be counting this as a break, even if it isn't needed - I can go on for far longer than this!

...Whatever I will, I shall always strive to make true and use every chance I can get to its fullest. Whether it's the chance to gain an ally, end my species, seek the chance of love with a mare I've longed for, or shoplift a really big box of those waffles with blueberries in them so I can have something to eat while I throw things at the birds who think they're clever enough to be messing with my shrubbery - it doesn't matter what's happening, if I want it, I will try to obtain it.

No matter what I do, I'll always be reminded of how everything began with the feeling of hooves-

-the foreign feeling of cobbled stone, which was only a phantom to me at the time, under my barely-made hooves-

-the echos of sobs that were never mine dying in my ears-

-but mostly, I'll remember everything beginning with one step into the dark... and how that moment is echoed here, before silence envelopes me.
> Chapter 42: Here the Songs of Madness Ring Eternal
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Sombra:


There may not have been any light to see by, but it still felt like äerint was beneath my hooves when I walked; I could feel something unmistakably tangible beneath the soles of my metal boots. The air around me may have been still, but even under my cloak I could sense almost overwhelming latent magic. The sheer amount of it caused me to raise an eyebrow as a silent gesture of awe... and suspicion. I should be feeling crackling waves of distinct presences here, not some heavy, subdued and blended-together weight that sends small shivers down my spine when I stand in one place for so long.

When magic could be felt like this, it was hard to call anything empty when simple things like pressure could be warped and other hidden sensations that nopony else could feel were brought to light, subtle arcane taps that never ceased, but were as typical as a wafting breeze or the hum of rustling leaves to me. Of course, that always hadn't been so. The first few years, before I could read, the ability was raw and even a bit strange. Sometimes, I managed to avoid feeling things in a way that doesn't happen anymore, but then that wasn't so. My reactions - despite that I was able to sense spells, I couldn't read each one clearly - were either delayed or too soon and there were times I imagined magic that wasn't there at all. There were times when everything wasn't so bad, but they vanished quickly, the time between them growing farther and farther apart until I learned how to properly manage such a complex sense while remaining largely unaware of many of the technical workings and methods to magic.

If anything helped contribute to the hallucinations of crystal ponies in my earliest years there, it was that.

Reaching up to aimlessly brush a lock of mane away from the side of my face like Luna would do - I'm certain that I've already done this, but it's not like I care - even though the gesture is mostly pointless. It doesn't matter if my hood doesn't hide all of my mane. I'm not going to be needing a disguise and Umbra won't be recognizing me.

"I'll make him remember me," I whisper. Under my hood, I prick my ears and listen to the echo spread farther, rippling out and fading.

This place isn't infinite, but under the almost-numbed magic, I can sense that the borders of this place might be twisted - the flow of magic is ridiculously heavy. If the sense of pressure saturating the air here weren't anything that would actually hinder me, I would have a hard time moving. I walk on and continue to peer into the dark, trying not note any subtle changes in the magic here. Inside, it's even darker than it was on the surface, where the Isle's gate first led. I may not have Luna's night vision, but I've spent a fair amount of my life in the dark as well. The magic in here may be odd and scramble the way I'm sensing things considerably, but I can't find many obstructions to sense beyond one or two crystalline clusters.

Yet, this place wasn't empty. Magic was entrenched in this place, forcibly shoved and anchored here by what is likely to be none other than Umbra. This kind of magic matches the one lingering on the odd skeleton, but this isn't trace aura - it's been forced to remain dormant here. This magic once came from some kind of creature. Or creatures. I can't tell in this storm of static that ripples everywhere, like wrinkles in a paper that lacks any other creases.

Instinctively, I let my gaze dart from the corners of my vision. There's no movement. I shoot a look of disdain into the abyss for not being as interesting as I would have liked and debate flipping off my hood. Just as my forehoof traces the hem, I decide against it. I want to see if there's anything in here and I don't trust any magic in here beyond my own dark magic, even if it isn't used to make werelights. A floating orb of dark fire is all I need.

The silence in here is surprisingly uncomfortable - it's almost annoying too, but what stands out far more is how unnatural it is. I've both heard of and have known death-like silence and the eerie quiet, but this is so forced and I can't help but fidget a bit with all this weight pressing down on me. Gah.

After huffing and shrugging my shoulders, I light my horn with dark magic and feel the signature purple smoke pour out around my eyes, knowing they no longer look equine. As soon as my flame leaves my horn, the silence is broken and I feel myself slammed to the ground by something that merely flickered in and out of the magical pressure that blurred any kind of distinction in the mess of magic around me. The candle's worth of flame that I conjured dies within seconds as the wind is knocked out of me. Despite that, I'm able to see that whatever is holding me to the ground - 'holding' being an understatement - is also invisible.

Oh joy.



...



The weight pinning me down to the crystalline ground was immense and violent. I could feel it writhing just as I writhed below it, gasping and wrestling to free myself as well as get some sense of just what was attacking me. Laying my ears flat, I directed my now-baleful stare to where an attacker's face would usually be, pulled back my lip so my fangs were in full view and snarled. 

In the heat of everything, there was a brief reign of silence at the sound of my rumbling growl. The entire place ripples with an unmistakable weight woven into the warped magic - fear. Then the noise resumes - a dozen or so voices that cried out, screamed, and wailed gibberish laced with words that I could just make out through the chaos and the headache as fierce as my frantic thoughts. In the gods-awful wailing I heard names and pleas as well as a word - demon. These - whatever they had been - were tormented and broken beyond repair, doomed to be anchored to this Tartarus-forsaken place until its destruction.

Achlys... Anarchy... Strife... Mayhem...

There were others names in there too, but I was only able to pick those ones out before returning my focus to what I was struggling against after those few seconds of observation, now that I'd managed to catch my breath. I needed to be able to get an idea of the phantom I was fighting. That wasn't to say that I hadn't figured anything out. Through the symphony of dreadful noise, those names proved to be a telltale clue to something I hadn't realized. Two of those names... they were a dead give away, as was the scenario.

These were the souls of draconequui, anchored here and shoved away in an indistinguishable cluster of broken minds and magic, doomed to remain stagnant when they weren't forever struggling against one another and forced to meld into one another so their individuality rang hollow and they could feel themselves deteriorate as they only managed to fight one another.

And I had no doubt in my mind about who did this. The draconequui were an old race. I knew they were the rivals of the Alicorns and very common in the southern countries as well as the western continents, but not the north. I didn't find many records of them that instructed me in anything beyond their habits and how to combat them - and what they were, of course. There wasn't much of a culture to record - they were the champions of scavengers, borrowing and stealing things for their own purposes and refused any form of intellectual gain beyond passing down legends and bizarre attempts at art.

They couldn't even count. Draconequui had all sorts of pidgin and dialects they used to communicate with one another, mashing as many languages together as possible at times, but they still had no words to communicate the exact amount of things.

However, I was not a draconequus. I knew immediately that this was not going to be a fair fight. There was one of me and far more of them, and one of me is all it's ever going to take and all that will ever be needed. It took one second for Luna to teleport her and I - as well as Fish - out of Styx. That's simply not going to cut it here.

I use my first second to have my horn light up with dark magic, and the shattered soul of the draconequui hesitates, apprehension flowing in the space between us.

This second - the second - of wariness leaves the near-formless creature unguarded and I roll over, so I'm the one pinning it to the ground...

...But only for a moment. I feel it stir for an attack, only to quiver with shock when it realize that I have deceived it and used the fourth second to shift myself to shadow, which it cannot grip, and drift away, only to reform a few paces from where we were.

I'm up to seven seconds. My horn still glows with dark magic that makes itself known in my eyes, purple smoke curling from under the hood. I draw a shaky breath and flash a momentary half-smile, but it is not filled with any of the sly kindness I offer to Luna or the begrudging warmth for Mac. It is grim and sardonic; so very, very me.

It vanishes when the tenth second ends, as does any bit of mercy I might have been considering. While the noise continues to ring out, growing louder with each passing second, the intangible feeling of magic burns through the abyss. I refuse to show anything beyond barely-reined in temper and cold hostility to the thing that dares to antagonize me, red aura weaving its way into the purple smoke in trace amounts.

When fifteen seconds have passed and none dare attack me, I let the translucent crimson engulf my horn entirely and watch as the world shakes with violent, miserable quivering of the draconequui - especially the one who messed with me. They know the magic I have is unfamiliar and can hurt them terribly if I want it to, their horrid existence being deprived of any proper form allowing them further clarity with sensing magic in a way almost was like how I do.

As the seventeenth second rolls around and the energy that makes up the draconequus who decided to attack me roils in terror and spouts something splintered, ear-splitting, and incomprehensible with its disembodied, harsh voice. I stop playing so nice and re-light my horn with the glow of dark magic and rush forward with a burst of speed lent from refusing to relax my stance and remain balanced and vigilant.

I charge forward, and - thank Luna for all her sparring sessions to help my eyes readjust - stop in just the right place in front of the magical presence of the draconequus, transferring all the force I used to run into a pivoting kick to what would be the creature's neck. My left hindleg blazes with the dark fire and small traces of my own personal inferno as the metal-clad limb makes contact with something that - for a moment - is solid, with a sickening and booming crunch as distorted as voices. The thunderous sound ripples through the abyss. I whirl around smoothly, having remained balanced throughout the entire duration of the move, even as everything explodes around me.

As soon as my kick had made contact with the shattered form of the draconequus, the entire chamber imploded from the magic I had placed in my attack, the dark fire swarming and hungrily outlining the lingering energy and making the aura of all the draconequui visible long after my kick had passed through my assailant. Wavering purple silhouettes in vaguely draconian shapes burst to life, each swarming with an array of raging threads of colors flickering within the swirling purple.

My horn lit up with dark magic once again and a cluster of äerint sprouted into existence. As soon as it did, I pulled it apart and carefully maintained control over the thrashing fire that was gradually becoming more willing to work with my every whim, but still stayed wild enough for it to suit me.

Just as the shapes my spell highlighted began to dim and the pure pandemonium of the intangible aura, my magic's aftermath, and the draconequui I wrapped the one in the fire of malicious, burning aura that was once äerint and began to recrystallize the tormented soul of he creature...

...the thirtieth second passed and the chaos wore down and fragmented voices that formed no words subsided to whimpers that could drive no mortal to madness. I stared at the most macabre thing in the room: the living, feeling soul-forged statue of a draconequus' blurred shadow. The true form was long gone, leaving only a bleeding and muddy outline, like an eroded cast... or melted statue.

The creature's soul and last traces of magic were now anchored into the very essence of the dark crystals. To say it would be fucking agonizing would be far too merciful. I personally don't care what would describe the experience of the creature at the moment. I can feel that my work was a bit sloppy. This isn't going to hold for more than three hundred years, give or take.

The fear radiating in the room is no longer so overt, but it will not disappear. This one attacked me, it payed the price. The others don't know much, all their senses are basically gone. Yet they know I am powerful and that I am a demon. They won't mess with me.

In fact, by second number fifty they try to ripple their presences and recede further into the abyss. The effort fails and their invisible magical presences overlap and tangle each other violently with the pitiful effort that is unseen by all and detectable only to me. Wails resume as they continue futile efforts to untangle themselves and prevent themselves from wounding the aura of another in their hopeless, endlessly injuring effort. They continue to make hopeless wails that echo mournfully and occasionally turn into screams that barely manage to distinguish one from the other in their hellish agony. Only the one I crystallized has the chance of knowing anything like solace now that he or she is alone - something like that can't be achieved in the constant pain that is the company the rest share.

"Tartarus is other ponies," I growl, turning away from the sight - or rather, the concentration of energy in an 'empty' portion of the room from where most of the wails spill. It's awful to listen to. I've heard the dying screams of ponies, the begging, the weeping - I know it well. But this? All this is worse? I feel myself shudder involuntarily under my hood and cringe at times, but I can't leave. There's still things to investigate here - not these miserable creatures, doomed to the company of others like themselves.

I've never been one for what's called nostalgia. There's next to nothing for me to be nostalgic about. I've found lots of things familiar, but nostalgia... there's liking something in nostalgia and there's little to nothing to like about anything in my youth. I like the prospect of my present and future more, but I'll never forget where I came from - I'm not a fool, after all. Tyrants. Terror like this... There's nothing to be nostalgic about there, but there's some truths I learned so easily, if they weren't ingrained into me.

"Tartarus is other ponies," I repeat, glad to have the indisputable wisdom wherever I go and the chance to hear myself again. It's a favorite of mine, and on the occasion it can have its own kind of peculiar comfort that only I'm likely to appreciate.

"Are they really?" A voice asks, yet there is no curiosity in the question.

I blink and gulp for air. My heart starts beating faster before I feel the first rush of his magic.

"They are," I say, keeping my voice level and dimming my magic. My posture is almost always watchful, so I didn't need to worry about that. Any signs of me hesitating, observing, or showing any emotion are concealed by my hood. The only spell I dare to cast in the dark is the one to conceal my fangs and give them the guise of normal teeth - both for comfort and so it hurts less when I bite the inside of my cheek. I draw blood anyway.

"You must be strange then," the voice from the entrance says. There's little to no inflection to anything he says, except for a light tone. Not conversational, or at least not quite. It's not calm either. While it's unexcitable, it's not tranquil or serene either. A bit bored? Hm. I think I'll go with 'placid'. 

His voice is placid and unflappable, but also hollow and cool, so it has a dull quality as well as merciless one. There's no accent to it at all and it's higher than mine, but he still sounds older. If he were a mortal, I'd say he could pass for somepony in their middling years with his voice alone, the eerie quality to it aside. There's a lot missing in that voice. I don't need to guess. I don't want to guess.

The back of my mind doesn't care, it goes ahead and starts thinking whatever it pleases along with possibilities of escape and the lovely mental field of red flags every little behavior of his is setting off. He's an open book alright, but a bit of a difficult one.

"I am." My voice is a little quiet, but it betrays nothing. I shift my gaze over to the entrance slightly, where I can hear his voice and feel his magic.

It's an awful magic. Celestia, Luna, the draconequui - his magical presence dwarfs theirs, so I know he's far older than both Luna and Celestia, even though that was given it's different to feel it. His magic doesn't feel fluid, it doesn't flow around things or cloak them. The path it follows feels like a straight line, or an unseen wall that smothers and sits unmoving. To me, it's the most horrifyingly artificial aura that I've ever felt. It's just there, with little to no nuances that make it feel like it's from a living thing.

He feels wrong.

"You feel rather strange too. Sometimes you burn and sometimes you are cold, no? Fire and ice is what you feel like. Well, not fire and ice. Something like them. Something purer, more primal, yes? Yet, you are still near unreadable..." His voice is coming closer. He's coming closer. I stand in place, but not so that I won't be able to run. The sound of my heartbeat clogs my ears and makes them feel itchy. I stop trying to tear the inside of my cheek apart - it's not that bad, really. Really.

Really, really. It's not. Once I swallow the mouthful of blood and spit and ignore the stinging it feels a little better and breathing isn't as hard; I feel like I'm suffocating. In order to avoid drawing a deep, nervous breath and gasp for air like I wa- feel like I have to I swallow the second mouthful of blood and spit even though I'm sure I'm holding too much air in.

I feel sick as I force the stuff down my throat.

Damn, my cheek stings. Just what did I do to it...?

Umbra moves outside and the crystal gate - it's to my right, thankfully - expands so he doesn't have to duck his head when he walks in. All I see is the aura so far - no Umbra. The shrieks of the draconequui are at full force as they try to cooperate just enough to make their collective presence slither away, deeper into the dark. As always, they fail. My head is fucking killing me and one of my ears - urgh what's wrong with it?

I lift up a forehoof, but don't look at it, instead, I bring it to my eyes to see what-

Oh, it's just a trickle of blood...

"They have hurt you with their screams?" The way he said it made it clear it wasn't a question, but he still asked as though it was. My lack of a response still displeases him, but I don't care. "Very well. Stay silent."

...Up close he's tall. That's my first thought when I see him. He's an Alicorn, so I expected him to be tall. I also don't apply a physical appearance to an enemy since it's not important unless I'm personally seeking them out. Since I never bothered to imagine what Umbra looks like, he looks exactly how I expected him to. His coat is white - not a rosy white like Celestia or a snowy white, just pure white. Dark outlines seem to dissolve against him with the ugly brightness of his coat like he's trying to erase things just by being near them while his coat radiates how blank he feels. In contrast to his white coat, his mane and tail are dark and flow like any mature Alicorn's. They're even darker than a starless night and the abysmal, dim void he lives in; all other things have the illusion of being outlined by him.

His height isn't like Luna's, who is tall and lithe, but also strong. He's not tall in the way I am either, where I was somepony who started off a little bit on the lanky - but thankfully never awkward or too out of proportion - side and just kept growing until I was, oh, nineteen, I think it was? I've never met any pony taller than me, but I've never felt small next to an Alicorn until I saw Umbra. He isn't even next to me yet! But by my fire, his height is unnaturally imposing. Umbra doesn't feel like an Alicorn or anything alive, or even a statue or a tower. Every little trait of his adds up to make him absolutely creepy. As the feeling of his magic comes closer, I try and suppress my shivering to the best of my ability and my nerves are hidden from him.

Umbra doesn't walk right. His back legs and hindquarters are encased in äerint that digs into his flesh and tears up his skin, from a distance the wounds could have been mistaken for burn scars. I can see the past ones being continuously reopened, though gradually, with each awkward and stiff step he takes. His face conveys none of the horrendous discomfort that should be expected from the way he's wounding himself, so I can only imagine that he doesn't feel it. At all. Just like me, he doesn't have a cutie mark. Had his hindquarters been covered in any more äerint, I wouldn't be able to see for myself. Why were they covered in it? Well...

I looked up to his horn, or rather, where his horn should be. The tip of his curved white horn was broken off, and not cleanly. The agony from that kind of a wound - and the sheer magic that it would take to inflict that kind of injury...

I feel myself swallow at the thought. The crystals are there for him to channel his magic now that he doesn't have a horn - not only are they virtually unbreakable, but they don't grow back. Depending on the extent of the break, a unicorn can die from being de-horned.

I look at his wings - even folded I can tell that his wingspan would exceed Celestia's, despite them being roughly the same height. Only differences in build made him appear taller. He hasn't been using them to fly in a long time; his feathertips are singed and blackened.

So he uses those for magic too...

When he approaches me, I stay rooted to the floor and look up at him through my hood, but don't allow him the pleasure of viewing my lovely face. His eyes are purple and his forelock has long since grown into the rest of the mane, so he has no bangs or any mane at all in his face.

"You are one of my creations, demon, and the first to ever return to me." He cocks his head to the side in a way that reminds me of an owl, but far creepier, with his dull eyes staring at me as if I were something to dissect.

I don't say anything. Until I know more about him, I can't risk letting anything slip around something so dangerous. This is a game of knowledge and power and there's no way that I'm going to lose. His face remains expressionless as he looks over what he can see of my form. Under my cloak, I can feel my legs shaking. I want to run. I want to drive a sword into his chest and spit in his eyes. I-

"Which of my works are you from? My amulet, my tablets, the spell books... or perhaps my masterpiece?"

I have the amulet, I don't know what the tablets are and the spell books must be what caused the transformation of the Wraith.

"I'm from the Book, now lost."

Umbra makes a thin frown of some very mild form of displeasure at having been inconvenienced. "I see. We shall have much to discuss later, then. For now..."

He grins abruptly, revealing an unsettling maw and a leer that gives me chills. Unlike me, he does not have fangs - his teeth look like the creature at the Pantheon: jagged rows forming some saw-like maw... way more than any equine should ever have.

The look in his eyes makes my stomach drop. I want to shut my eyes and disappear - I don't want to remember blood and crowns or the colt who ate birds-

Or maybe I do because this look is far, far worse than Onyx's could ever be..

Worse than Onyx...

Umbra lights his horn with dark aura and tears off my hood in a split-second while I try to ready myself to run-

He lifts my face up to meet his by jerking my bangs up. I resist spitting in his eye, growling, setting something on fire, running... anything at all as my thoughts keep racing, as anger and more mingle in me needing and burning to be more and spark into existence...

I resist spitting words of acid in his face as he leers at me even more, tail lashing - I note a flicker of disapproval over my bangs. He hisses his words through those nasty, gritted, wide-grin of his, with his head still tilted to the side to give him the perfect touch of deranged, mechanical heartlessness:

"Welcome home."

I stubbornly continue to maintain silence since I don't think anything else is holding me together. My heart is stumbling in its race, my mouth still stings, traces of blood can be tasted, my mind is screaming, my legs need to run-

Maintaining as much of my stoic facade as possible, I watch as Umbra turns to where the draconequui souls linger.

"Consider this your homecoming gift, demon."

His horn lights with dark magic, but I stay sensing he doesn't intend to use the powerful waves of magic flooding his horn against me. Right before it dies, unable to be properly channeled, Umbra whips his enormous wings around and runs them along the äerint, which the dying magic on his horn - however powerful - struggles to illuminate... or so I think. As I watch, the äerint rapidly inches onto the charred skeletons of some of his feathers that ran along the mutilated flesh of his hindquarters.

When the burst of magic on his horn dies, his feathertips are encased in crystal rife with the feel of powerful dark magic. I'm even a bit impressed, though morbidly so...

"There are other ways for me to use magic after the Light-Bringer queen, Lumina, did this-" He points to his broken horn and I hear traces of anger in his tone, but they fade quickly and don't sound earnest. Like everything else there's a lack of emotion in his usual tone that comes across as insincerity. I remain as stoic as can be. "-but nothing is as effective as having a horn again..."

Umbra looks at me, blank and unreadable. I nod under my hood and he turns away, äerint-coated wings spread and glowing with dark magic.

Right before I can be harmed, I duck behind him, hooves moving faster than I anticipated as my heart continues to hammer even more. I take a risk in letting out some of the breath I'd been holding in when one of my boots makes a loud enough sound against the floor to cover it up, then I go back to slowly feeling like I might burst and struggling to stay under control and not panic because Luna isn't here...

...Luna isn't here to help me...

My knees feel weak and I'm dizzy from listening to all the screams and as magic builds up and floats around. Regardless, I keep standing. I don't even have to think about it; I've forced myself to survive much worse things than-

Umbra's magic lashes out in arcs and the ungodly noise grows and grows, shattered screams ringing off every surface as tortuous waves of magic rip apart what little is left of their immortal souls and scramble them further into one another, forming a hideous and unseeable fusion of beings ripped apart and sewn back together with all the wrong seams - seams that will only rip apart with every second of existence that rolls by and-

I pull myself out of sensing the plight of what were once draconequui, keeping my hooves rooted to the ground as my breathing grows shallower, and I stare at the gleam of my boots in the dark, eyes ducked so there's nothing between the hem of my hood, the floor, and the metal surface. Under my hood, my ears are pinned against my head. I don't try to will them to prick up.

The noise has become deafening. I want it to stop. I want everything to stop. I feel like I'm going to pass out.  All I hear is the crashing, cutting noise of crystalline surfaces, warped and jagged, scrapping against one another like gears or teeth.

There's nowhere to run.

Next to me, Umbra casts his shadow further by spreading his wings. He makes a hollow sound that doesn't match the horror around me, a futile attempt to make something that sounds like laughter, light and airy-

The noise is worse than the Empire, much worse...

Crystalline crashes sound far above us. There's still blood in my throat and the thick, wet, slimy warmth of the taste of it mixed with spit is sickly and nauseating. My balance is gone, I just try to force myself to remain upright and the room to stop spinning, none of it works. The noise in my head won't stop and the throbbing headache is irritating; I feel it crawling from some horrible depths in my mind to the forefront of it, creating a building pain right under my horn-

By all things beyond our stars, this feels like-

It feels like the hangovers from when I was young. Occasionally, the aftermath of them would cause headaches like this - wicked headaches that could mess with my magic.

Contaminated power bleeds from everything. It feels like this who place is a disease of disgusting magical sensations I want to stop because it feels like they're soaking into me.

The headache is accompanied with a buzzing in my ears that might not actually be there...

My throat feels swollen. I need to breathe. Can I breathe?

Umbra is still making that sound. He doesn't care. I almost forgot Fate was at my side, but the magic around me is starting to feel worse; there's far too much of it.

The floor moves beneath my hooves. Or maybe it doesn't.

I can't tell.

This-

...is horrifying? Painful?

Sickening?

I want out of here-

Wrong?

I'm the only one who can stop this...

Revolting?

I've just got to survive a week.

Decently catastrophic?!

Out of everypony in the world, I'm mostly confident that I can figure something out...

Not a recommended way to ditch a part time job?!

...Yeah, that last one...

I lurch forward as the world keeps spinning and vomit, gasping hoarsely as I retch. My throat is burning and I cough, almost choking on-

This is really happening.
> Chapter 43: The Third Demon
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Sombra:


This world had a name, and according to the one who shaped it, its name was Niflhel. Umbra walked the twisting paths in it with little trouble. He simply lit his horn with the only light - other than my own aura - that would shine here and across the surfaces of the äerint that made up everything.

...And I thought I was simplistic in matters involving anything and everything related to interior design.

None of this took away from how unsettling Umbra was. He had managed to memorize passageways in a place that was always changing. Just one flick of light with his horn and impatient lash of his tail. No direct eye contact. And suddenly, what happened? Crude tunnels would be revealed, moving as we walked through them.

As he led me on and I continued to pass off my withdrawn display back who knows how many tunnels ago. I tried to focus on the magical feel of each tunnel, or anything that would be a distinct constant, since the amount and almost all other qualities could always change. My senses were being overwhelmed and a combination of nerves.

I wasn't able to read much of his reaction at the time, but he didn't find anything in my statement worth doubting. Umbra thought that I was unfamiliar with Alicorns, and I didn't do anything that would suggest anything to support his unspoken conclusion or go against it. So far he displayed little that expressed any strong feelings toward me, whether they were a warped fondness or something destructive he wanted to take out on me.

Inside, I felt like I was bursting at the seams. I had accepted that it was me who had to set everything in motion and who had to keep everything rolling no matter how improbable success was. I can't help but wish that I could have learned something that I could use against Umbra for some admittedly sadistic retribution, or to weave some kind of trap based on the plethora of possible plans were this a scenario where I had the opportunity to create the perfect revenge. I knew that from the beginning that this was not likely to be such a situation, but I've always been fond of risks and gambles. In the end, this can easily benefit me. A lot of selfishness, excessive egotism, and never-enough-narcissism can work wonders almost as great as I am, after all. 

Unlike all my other adventures, carelessness of any kind was something I couldn't afford.

So much of me still wanted to run. The air here was dense and paranoid; I could still hear the sound of hallways echoing and folding in on themselves. I yearned to fight him as well. Seeing Umbra hurt and mangled at my own hooves by the magic-encouraged anger I had trickling through me, like stoking flames and highlighting just how powerful I really was. Unfortunately, such power was kept hiding where I could manage to keep it from mingling with my magic to the point that it would be impossible for Umbra to doubt the strong emotions I had slipping in with my power.

Umbra had proved to be fairly sociable for a xenocidal maniac that lived in a world of crystallized dark magic. He didn't come across as particularly introverted or extroverted. Many aspects of his demeanor were very bland - it was as though he was used to being indistinct or couldn't grasp certain aspects of individuality well. I was able to pinpoint and observe certain mannerisms with ease, but always took care to look like I was naturally a bit vacant. The rest? Well, the rest just fell into place. And what was the rest, exactly? It was acting like I hadn't behaved in centuries while invisible seams holding back nerves inside me frayed gradually. 

I was brash. I was bold. I was rebellious, stubborn, and had a retort for nearly everything. I defied.

There were times when I hadn't always done so, where I didn't fight Onyx. I let my ears drop and my ever-direct gaze follow, so that I appeared to be looking at my hooves instead, minding each step as obsessively as possible while waves of fear had washed past whatever barriers I had tried to manage them with. My legs used to shake. I could only sit in place and try to maintain what he had tauntingly called my 'best behavior' while I split from within and tried to give him nothing to work with in hopes of just going a little longer with only fear and no pain. He'd try to goad me into talking for a little while, and though he's as stupid as can be in almost everything else, that kid was terrifying in how effective he was at hurting others.

Especially me.

I clung to insanity while he unintentionally eased off with his cruelty. I swear that those were the few occasions were I borderline bored him. Even if he'd always take it out on me later, trying to get me to talk, to scream, to make any noise at all. He didn't care what he 'had' to do, he only wanted to ensure that I was hurt. He needed me to fight back again and say anything.

I said nothing and tried to keep myself from crumbling from within.

I feel like that now. I am like that now. Ears down under my hood, step carefully, watch everything, remain vigilant, listen to every little sound, hold my breath-

"I cannot believe I never thought to ask..." Umbra says from where he is, a few steps ahead of me and off to my right. I'm thankful that he chose to walk on that side of me. He doesn't know it, but the vision on my left side is still weaker than my right. I don't mind that I'm not ever going to have perfect vision, yet I'll never allow a pony I can't trust to walk anywhere on my left side like that. I note the unusually long pause in his state and keep walking, keeping track of his pace as he leads me through the tunnels of Niflhel.

"...But it seems I never learned what it is you chose to call yourself."

"I am Sombra," I said levelly. 

He paused again and I slowed down, always being sure to see past his rippling mane and note every subtle shift in his movements. With his dramatic contrast in colors he stood out sharply, whereas I blended into the shadows with my dark mane, coat, and cloak.

I had to try and put aside panic and rage waiting to be with every time he came closer to me, wanting there to be every gulf between us. I only felt it sink somewhere within me, lurking and building.

"You have no title? Are you not some kind of usurper, Sombra the Demon? Is there not any addition to  your name that you have been given?"

I keep my half-meek, half-bored expression while my mind instantly jumps into overdrive and panic burns throughout me like a wildfire. My breathing threatens to become as erratic as my heartbeat, but I manage to keep my outward appearance that of mystery. Despite all this, I note his words without any extra effort. Everything said and unsaid between us will act as a clue in a very dangerous game, and Umbra has no idea that I can and am playing it as he is... but by my own rules. My history is not to be disclosed, if I can avoid it. Any distinct mannerisms of mine - or at least anything too tell-tale - is also nothing I will reveal until I have enough things in my favor to satisfy me.

Yet, I cannot miss that even without any inflection to indicate that he's asking a question, Umbra expected me to be a usurper. Now that's a clue to something if there ever was one.

"I'm called Sombra the Enigma."

Umbra's expression is tinged with disgust at my liberal use of the language of the age that is a dead give away of how language has shifted since he walked the world.

"How dull, but I suppose it was too much for me too think that any of my creations would garner any grand names befitting of their true natures in a world that has fallen into dark ages. Tell me, just how little was built up again? I know that there shall be no great citadels for me to burn, but are there enough mortals for me to lay waste to?"

"There's always mortals," I reply, keeping any hint of terseness out of my brief statements. "But I'm not exactly one to count them, and there are places where lots of them live. So, there you have it."

Umbra snorts and I see his tail lash again. "What part of the north are you from, Sombra the Enigma?"

He must've noticed my accent. "All I remember was that it wasn't a place that saw anything like the southern summers."

Umbra is surprisingly still. "Far north, then? I had never really bothered to travel up there. The great citadel of Vanhoover - which I am sure is nothing to you - really had next to nothing beyond it, at least in that direction. I recall there being a few hamlets filled with ponies. Flutter ponies. Do you know of them? I slaughtered their entire populace so they might join some of the other pony races that no longer walk Midgard. Is that name still used in whatever barbaric time you live in?"

He's trying to quiz me for small details, I remind myself, however unnecessary the reminder is; it offers some distraction so that I'm able to temper the anger in me and shove it away as well, along with the small tidbit of information I learned, however trivial. I know that the Vanhoover I have heard of in this age is likely to be properly named 'New Vanhoover' if ponies were properly educated. It wasn't even that important of a citadel.

"We still have butterflies."

Another lash of the tail. "Oh." He pauses. "Follow me."

Umbra keeps walking. Though he makes no gesture to show that he wants me to follow, my hoofsteps follow his as soon as he starts walking. I'm careful to stay a few steps behind him, where I can shake some of his all-encompassing magical imprint that has me feeling like my skin is crawling every few seconds.  We walk on in silence, the echoes of twisting hallways and crunching pseudo-corridors still abuzz in my ears. Occasionally, I catch glimpses of myself in the crystalline surface of the walls and allow myself to indulge in a second or two of narcissistic admiration, just as long as isn't anything Umbra would pick up on. It's a far cry from any real comfort. These kinds of oppressive environments rife with 'You think you're paranoid enough now?' feelings.

A few crude, crystalline corridors and I'm sure that even the halls that aren't collapsing in on themselves and reforming are moving on their own. Even when they're as still as anything can be here. While I try to keep my gaze level and make it look as though my focus is far more relaxed and that I am simply distant - an art that I've mastered - my gaze keeps roaming and darting to corners and the shadows of where Umbra and I have been, because I swear that the walls are moving...



...



As I venture further into Umbra's strange lair, silence takes hold and while the feel of immense power washes over everything in even stronger waves than before. The unearthly cold of the crystalline ground seeps past my boots and chills me slightly and I continue to anticipate shifting and any other structural alterations to occur at a moment's notice.

Everything underhoof feels deceptively solid. I note this along with Umbra's lighter strides - at least, they're as light as he can manage. Despite standing in his titanic shadow, nothing is obscured from me. In fact, the shadows serve only to highlight and define every little thing that most would overlook. These are the very details I live to obsess over, as well as use to my every advantage when needed.

We've arrived in what appears to be the dark heart of his lethal and unsuitable world, where all the tunnels lead. As we walked the halls I noted small downward shifts and tilts that were silent indications of there being a center chamber.

Aside from the distinct columns of äerint that protruded from the mess of jagged crystal walls, winding their way up to the high ceiling in crooked shapes that were almost like sloppy, angular helices. If I didn't know what they were made of, I would doubt the stability of any structure that looked like that. I honestly would have just gone with a rather dismal central rotunda of äerint and hung a little sign that read 'Foreboding' on it somewhere noticeable. It probably would have had the same effect, or just impressed me more.

The vaulted ceiling was as crude as the rest of this creepy sanctum and so high up that I could stack at least eleven Umbras on top of one another before they'd be able to come close to touching the top.

Umbra walked past me, his larger strides quickly passing my more cautious ones. I watched him stand in the center of the wide central chamber, shadows slicing across his bright coat and the gleam of äerint reflecting in his eyes, as if that could add some touch of life to them.

"Welcome, Sombra, to the Heart of Niflhel." He managed something like a smile, first flashing his monster's maw at me and then settling on a thin curl of his lip that made me recall the cold sting of Arctic blizzards against my winter coat in the year before the Empire. Only that was sincere. 'Welcome' held no meaning to him, it was just something he could say, not something true, like how Luna made me feel.

Instantly, I steel myself and shift my posture into something far more appropriate for anticipating battle. As predicted, my cloak disguises almost all shifts in my form - or at least, what kind of movements I'm making. Umbra can still see me moving, and I don't intend to hide that from him.

Something like amusement shows in his eyes, which have a habit of flashing to their more reptilian appearance with his frequent uses of dark magic. His eyes are just like the ones that Luna described in her dreams, leaving no room for me to doubt Luna's description, even if it was thousands of years old.

Those eyes were his.

"You might actually prove to be interesting enough, Sombra the Enigma." It was impossible for me to ignore the fact that he talked about me as if I were less than a foal's favored toy... or a weapon...

Only 'interesting enough'?! Tartarian flames, is he despicable.

Umbra lights his horn with dark magic and the ground trembles slightly; the äerint changes so that a structure that could be used as a table arose from the ground. Two stool-like fixtures followed, placed on opposite sides of the addition to an otherwise unfurnished cavern. 'Room' really wasn't a fitting term. There was nothing civilized here, but this place also lacked the rugged, wholly natural feeling about it that would mark it as a wild land. It was entirely unnatural. Even otherworldly plains of magic belonged in nature, as rare as it is to encounter them.

My heart hammered in my chest and I could hear blood roaring alongside the part of me that screamed in recognition at the game that was being played here. In a minor act of retaliation, I used my own magic to alter the plain stool and grow it into a high-backed throne that, despite its royal flair, was far more suiting to my tastes and had a subtle imposing quality to is. Only then did I take my seat, tilting my head just enough so that the hood of my cloak fell and my mane spilled from under it, now that it was no longer hidden.

It was natural to keep my expression unreadable, but I can't help myself at times and allow myself the slight of arch of an eyebrow. Perhaps he can see the small gesture under my messy bangs.

Umbra only stares at me. His gaze doesn't roam, but I can feel his utterly heartless stare trying to size me up and predict me.

"We have much to discuss," he says, voice colder than ice and tone hinting at the illusion of choice he hoped to instill over me.

This is a sick game.

"Do we really?"

And it was a game I knew how to play all too well.

"I am certain we do."

This was a game I would spare none in, showing my ruthlessness in every way I choose. It was a subtle game that I could read almost every detail in. I needed no magic to play.

"Alright then."

It was a game I wouldn't lose.

Umbra managed to leer at me strangely again. I showed nothing in response, inside part of me felt as if it were viciously deconstructing itself. 

Bring it.



...



"How old are you?" Umbra asks; his is voice tinged with disdain as his gaze lingers on me far more than I would have liked.

"I'm twenty four." It isn't a lie - not that I would think twice about lying to him.

His stare is one of pure calculation - to him, I'm not something that even vaguely resembles life, even pathetic life or life that he loathes.

It's the way you look at something regarded as less than an object. He's looking at me the way everypony else has when they learn what I am: a demon, which is below every other monstrosity if ponies have any say in the matter. And they do. Each and every one of them has far too much to say in matters they have no qualifications to ever comment on.

"So then, you are quite young. Are there any more demons that have sprung from my master work? It has been some time since the tome was ejected into the world. Are you and I really all that came from it?"

"Yes. Just me. And yes, I am very young." Young and dashing, of course.

The way that he folds his enormous wings and sits, looking at me with unveiled murderous intent bears a striking resemblance to a vulture. While I had never come across many birds before, it was hard not to encounter at least a few of them out in the desert during my stay there.

"What is the state of the world you walk like? You said that there were still places with ponies."

"Of course there are places with ponies. 'Celibacy' isn't exactly a concept to them. The masses are uneducated imbeciles and ponies still don't find any grand flaw in a blindly social nature."

"There a few who know any form of education, then? Is your world a wasteland with only mortals to attempt to control the sun and moon, without gods?" I notice a flicker of something like partially quelled curiosity in his eyes, though 'curiosity' doesn't capture or accurately describe the morbid and oddly flat moment of emotion flickering there.

I lean back in my temporary throne, wave a forehoof dismissively, and toss my mane slightly. It is easy to watch him through my bangs, which had grown far longer than I usually let them on this adventure. "It might as well be. You act like ponies are supposed to be grand architects of something other than hovels all grouped together. Just what do you think the world is?"

"I see..."

Cynicism is never overrated. I think I've proven that time and time again. But... well, I am tempted to put a bit more effort into this game. All I've been doing is playing defense, which isn't exactly going to get me anywhere.

I need more.

I want more, and since when did this stop being a competition?

I bite back a smirk. It didn't, and if there is any folly in pride, it isn't in mine. "However, it would be foolish of somepony like me not to recognize a race from what legends still linger..."

I lean forward and let the expression of smug, triumphant viciousness that I couldn't bear to see die so prematurely spread across my face, my eyes telling nothing that even a being as old as him could decipher.

"...and would be unmistakable to one who walks ruins as I do."

Umbra offers no reaction other than what could pass for a level stare, if he didn't have a permanent air of something that made my usual indifference mixed with hostility look almost compassionate by comparison. At least a dead-eyed stare would offer some reminder of that the dead were once living too. His expression offered no such thing, and it wasn't something that I hadn't anticipated.

Frankly put, Umbra looked dead from the inside out.

"What is it that you want then, Sombra the Enigma?" His eyes lock with mine, neither of us turning away from the other, my glare boring into his stare that is too bored in appearance to even be considered level.

"I want answers."

And then Umbra blinked. "Answers to what?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

His eyes glinted with a cruel light. "You seek answers," he echoes tonelessly, rustling his wings.

"Yes," I reply flatly.

"Not power?"

"If I'm going to be demanding-" I made sure to put emphasis on the word, because this may be a game, but I will not be playing nice. "-anything from you, it will be something useful."

"Are you really that arrogant?" Umbra asks, lashing his tail and tilting his head slightly to fix his eerie stare  on me again. I doubt many have held this look of his. Something about the way he regards me makes me think that this direct habit of mine amuses him.

"All that and more." I narrow my eyes and watch him more closely. He doesn't appear to be very curious about me - or at least not who I am - but it is plain to me that he's looking for something. I think he wants to try and find a sign that I have yet to give him. I prop my head up with a hoof and fix him with a look of contempt from my throne, managing to mix some signs of indifference in there in ways only I can, while waiting for a rush of air other than the stale stuff here. It won't come, obviously.

"You do not seek wealth?"

"Money. Is. Disgusting."

Umbra's brow furrowed and he batted his voluminous black mane out of his eyes with a hoof, making a sound of disgust as he did so. His eyes found me again, narrowing and showing a trickle of resentment as he looked at my bangs. Yes, I'm sure my stunning manestyle vaporized his cornflakes. Besides, cornflakes aren't even that good.

Of all the things he chose to hate about me, he decided on the fact that I'm beautiful.

Since dwelling on just how offended at I am will be distracting and completely derail my current train of thought, I focus my continuously amounting anger into everything else I'll be able to show him later. My wrath enhanced with the aid of my divinity is something that every twisted part of me is looking forward to.

"Fame must be out of the question as well," Umbra muses, observing my stare that only shows cold hatred instead of the fire of rage that I'm stoking internally. This, of all things will have to be perfect. No exceptions will get me what I want, and more importantly, I won't let anything - be it mistakes that think they can exist in such dire circumstance, or some mythical grand design that has the audacity to think something so utterly stupid can exist in the same world that I reside in.

He accepts my silent response, but not without a slight scoff. "Is is mares you desire as spoils, then? Are you that sort?"

"I've never been into mares. Or stallions, so don't ask that either."

Umbra looks genuinely confused by such a simple truth. A forehoof rests on his temple and his blank demeanor dissolves momentarily. "Just what do you seek after conquest?"

Nothing is betrayed in my expression, I even hide some of the aggressiveness in my stare for the sake of revealing nothing in my moment of contemplation. The obsession with conquest... why does he keep applying it to me? He's mentioned it twice now, both times in context that suggests that-

I pause in the middle of my rapidly rolling thoughts. The split second pause is noticeable only to me, and it feels a little longer, but I know that feeling is an illusion and dismiss it as soon as it comes.

Are demons supposed to be usurpers? Or marauders of some kind?

"Knowledge," I reply tersely, and just quick enough so that awkward pauses could not even be considered. I may not have found much so far - it is far too early to determine what might be of particular importance - yet the detail I have obtained isn't one to simply dispose of. I'm not going to get much of anywhere by rooting my mind and every expectation deeply in logic alone. No, it is not an entirely useless thing - quite the opposite - but the real skill comes from knowing how to warp things, find things, and use things within it. 

Logic is a tool, and not one that I must use so conventionally. It is something that I have enjoyed learning about, though it is I who rule it, not the other way around. I'm not Purple Eyesore, meant to be polished and shined so I appear just as another, who would falsely deem themselves my superior, to approve of and show off. Nearly every pony lives like they're supposed to be things rather than living by things. Why be bound by things that are better off mixed with rebellion?

Umbra only gives me a vaguely curious look. "Is that all?"

No. "I guess you'll need to find out, but it should be." There, now he thinks that I expect to exercise total control of the scenario in ways that only a fool can think themselves sure of, if they were in my place right now.

With the exception of his rippling mane in tail, the latter which lashed like the tolling of a clock pendulum impatiently tolling the seconds away. In the back of my mind, I counted all of them. His predator's pose and gaze still lingered on me, as blank as ever except for traces of cruelty that seemed subdued and never vanished completely. Were he a smaller creature, I'd expect him to spring out of his seat and attempt to attack me.

"The exact fate of the Alicorns is something I've wanted to know. What is it?" I hear my own voice ring throughout the cavern-like hall. I wanted to say 'longed' over wanted, but did not. Applying that emotion to a question would tip him off to him to lie, lie, lie for every answer. I hadn't spoken that loudly but the resonance of something so unmistakably me held its own comfort. How couldn't I treasure my own company?

Umbra runs an äerint-coated feather tip over the surface of the table, creating small sparks and scratching noise. Neither chipped, of course, and he never took his gaze off of me.

"And you learned of the Alicorns how?"

"I'm literate, asshat."

For once, I saw something like confusion cross Umbra's barely expressive face. "I have no idea to what that last bit was supposed to mean. Is it a term of modern invention?"

"Yes," I mumble into my forehoof. I can't help but wonder just how old he is. 

Alicorn aging isn't a concept grasped easily by most. They have two ages. The first is a true age, which is simply how long ago they were born and is the least important. The second is their mortal year equivalent. Magic is involved with how they age, but it isn't an organized spell that can be manipulated in most any conceivable way. Warlocks would spend their entire lives and legacies trying to guess the latter. Eventually, ages and ages before a portion of the Alicorns who disappeared in the Collapse were born, one of them created an elaborate ritual to divine these sometimes-secret ages of the Alicorns.

It was a spell I would never need to use. Since that age was magical, I was able to sense it with some effort. I hadn't guessed Luna and Celestia's equivalents, I sensed them. Unlike them, Umbra's age was a literal mystery to me. His magic was muddled, and while he may have been an Alicorn once, and still retained the body of one, he didn't feel quite like one. He was more demon than Alicorn, and the centuries after casting the spell that created him only allowed him further control over those matters, especially when his Alicorn body was altered from whatever he used to look like.

"Well..." Umbra showed me his disgustingly creepy smile again, teeth dripping with spittle that he paid no mind to. "You made it this far so... I would not mind sharing a story or two with you, Sombra, who may just have proven his title to be true.

I have never felt more stoic in my gods-damned existence. "Okay."

"I have broken the Alicorns." 

I angle my forehoof so that my sharp swallow of disgust is concealed. My body language looks as natural as possible, yet I feel myself pale a bit. All of them?!

He offers another thin, cruel smile, but it isn't directed to me. "They thought a war - the world against me - would stop me. I slaughtered the demigods and - oh, well I am sure you have seen your own days of slaughter too."

I have.

"But, Sombra the Demon, this was far better than whatever feral struggle that your world goes through with whatever movements of the day and night you have left, if any. The mortals are always the easiest to get rid of. Legions of them can be obliterated easily. They are like... does the concept of a between meal snack still exist in this day and age?"

Any color that had been left in my face struggles to stay there, and I force myself to choke down the vomit that is trying its hardest to force its way up. My vision swims, and I manage to swallow the foul stuff with a ragged gasp that has to be muffled. My mind feels feverish and the throne I sit on and the air of Niflhel starts to grow chillier.

"Are you saying that you ate ponies?" I feel my eyes widen, but not as far as I'd like to let them. There's still some shreds of composure that I can't help but cling to. Especially if it mean I can distract myself from the taste of vomit... 

To my horror, Umbra laughs. Lightly. His high voice is clear. There is something is always missing from it, so it still sounds hollow and fake. "And you haven't? I drank the blood of all the world's demigods to wash it down, of course. Oftentimes, I did this in front of the Alicorn that guided them. Flora Worldheart fell easily to this. She was always so weak for our kind, forming such flighty bonds with mortals almost as soon as she was marked. Then, she had the nerve to think that I would allow her to succumb to the heartbreak that was already tearing her apart from within when I could be having far more thrills with her."

Parts of him are so like Onyx, part of my brain reminds me, though the statement is an obvious one, my own voice is never something I could fear. I wish I could bite my cheek again to disguise the revulsion that grows more obvious with each exchange between us, but blood would make it worse. I loathe the sickening taste. 

Instead, I try to recall everything I know about Flora Worldheart. She wasn't very old, even for Alicorn standards. The last records I read of her noted her equivalent being only twenty two - just barely older than her cousin, my Luna Galaxia, is now. She was known for being rather social outside of her job as a princess, taking students very early instead of going off to explore the world and establish her own empire, which would have been the typical thing to do at her age - and with her mark earned as well.

She, like the rest of her kind, were all prodigious in something amazing. It was by her genius papers on botany that I learned so much about many of the world's plants, all while sitting inside that damned castle and waiting for nothing at all. Since she never founded her own kingdom, she resided with her parents and two siblings, both of which were younger than her. All of them were marked... and it appears that all of them were called to war...

Anypony who saw a map of what the world looked like now wouldn't believe the difference between now and then, not unless they were smart, and that isn't exactly expected from ponies. One of those differences was how the land where the Family Worldheart lived sunk into the sea. It would have been a part of present day Maretonia but...

I snap myself out of the thoughts of history and lost continents. Recitations may ease my mind, but I have a game to play; an ugly game, with an even uglier opponent. I have no instinct to flee, no want of company, only everything that lies in front of me, seen or unseen.

"Her sister, Terra, on the other hoof..." He trails off into a hiss. "That despicable druid godling was a far more difficult maiden to break, and unfortunately a more skilled fighter than either her sister or brother. Why, she was almost as troublesome as Lumina Galaxia and her mother." Umbra snorts. "Queen Pani was always such a grossly loyal creature. As old as she was, she always fought like a much younger mare..." He sighs in frustration and lets his gaze drift back to me. Umbra's white coat seems luminescent in the dark.

Queen Pani Worldheart was the youngest sister of Lumina... she was the first Element of Loyalty. The part of my brain that has indulged itself on so many history texts, manuscripts of world-workings, and yes I do admit, a surprisingly modest amount of verse, refuses to be quiet. To be honest, I don't want it to. The legends of the Alicorns were always a curious thing to a hopeless, angry, and miserable youth like me who found fleeting enjoyment reading about the only equines that had mattered. All of them were so different from the ponies I had found myself surrounded by. Better.

On the rare occasion, these little reminders of what ruins once were and shrouded truths were a fragile coping mechanism for a much younger me, just like internal recitations - one that rarely worked and was usually better shrugged off until the information became relevant. Sometime like now.

She built her home, her castle, in a place called The Shifting Isles, which I believe would now be lost if the maps of the present are any indication of it no longer floating in the ocean. Yes, literally floating; a cluster of magical islands attached to nowhere and barren of all fauna. The flora and landscape rearranged itself almost constantly...

"What became of Terra?" Princess Terra Worldheart... Luna's cousin. What would Luna think to know her the fate of her family, sitting across from the one who took it all from her...? Loathing creeps into the last few words, forcing them to die and be shoved back into where I build up my anger.

There was Umbra's smile again, still a shadow of something that could be observed on a living creature. His jagged teeth dripped with spit as he lifted his lips into a sneer that gradually morphed into something that made me shudder under my cloak. "She was broken too-"

"I know. There's no Alicorns left here." There - I note a small twitch in the corner of his mouth when I said the second part. It was almost unnoticeable. I've always had a habit of noticing these little things about others - the way Mac's wingtips twitch when she's worried and she will never notice, or how Purple Eyesore will always look at me like I'm something vile and she has the upper hoof while she lies and says otherwise. I know she looks at me with an expression that tells me all I can do is wrong. Celestia really has gotten to her, and even if Purple Eyesore doesn't realize she makes this face, she still hasn't mastered the other half of the look - the Celestia half, the one that says you are the ever-humble epitome of good.

These are the subtlest of things that will betray what nopony would think to conceal. How can they hide what they aren't aware of? Little details are always going to make or break something. It always starts with one, and either that will do the trick, or it will take one more. And another after that. Perhaps a third, and so forth. Somepony should always be aware of these things about themselves - and about others - but being ponies, what can be expected of them? The answer is hardly an elusive one.

I look at Umbra as though I've noticed nothing at all. Just as I want, Umbra only reads what I want him to: nothing between the lines. Being part book has plenty of perks and experience grants many others. I claim all and make them mine.

"That is so, Sombra," Umbra replies instantly, his tone letting nothing slip. He's had thousands of years of practice, and Hasad, his summoner, must've had far more.

"You waged a war, alone against all the Alicorns?" I'm careful not to call them gods, Suggesting that legends of any kind still exist is a good way to offer a highlight into just how much culture might remain, which won't do in a situation like this where every word can betray me, even if I have only chosen to present myself as a ruin-walker. Sticking with one term and limiting myself with how much description I give Umbra offers its own implications for him to make sense of.

"Alone?" A small bit of mock incredulousness slips into his tone. I shift into what looks to be a comfortable pose in my throne, but it is really far more vigilant than it looks. "No, no, for the start of it all I had the draconequui, their minds bent to my will. They helped with terrorizing the great citadels while I played with the mortal armies and lesser gods a bit."

"You slaughtered them by the thousands," I deadpanned. The sheer magnitude of the damage he must have done is scarily impressive. Anything with a body count nearing the upper thousands is a creature I'll be wary of.

"Hundred thousands," Umbra corrects quickly, waving a hoof at my 'error'. "Legions are a strange sort of prey, but there is some delight in-"

"Blindly slaughtering them?"

"Of course, but enough about those unfavorable little mortals-" He flashed me that almost smile again. I tried to suppress another shiver and succeeded, leaned back into my throne and quietly waited for him to go on as the faint chill of äerint seeping past the parts of my winter coat that were exposed. "-since you did inquire to the fate of the Alicorns."

I hadn't realized just how tightly my still forehoof had been gripping arm of the throne. Luckily, only I noted this and instantly relaxed my metal-clad forehoof as best as possible since the discomfort of the armor digging into me ever so slightly had just sunk in and I had no appreciation for the dull ache it produced.

"That I did. So, continue." It wasn't a question and Umbra's face showed a momentary flash of his own discomfort at my remark.

"The Alicorns did lead some of their armies of course, and I stopped many of them there, wounding them greatly. When I could not and all the citadels had fallen, insignificant mortals who remained scattered only because of my grace that allowed them to build just enough for me to have something to obliterate in the Second Raze that dawns. Your summoner would be descended from the ponies I allowed to live, though they apparently moved up to the north? Being godless, they have no doubt sunk into wretched states but even that is a new low for them. There is nothing but the Wastes beyond the mountains that mark the border of the old Everfree Kingdom... or did they perhaps move to the moors just beyond them...?"

I only give him a hard stare. He doesn't know about the Crystal Empire? I know they were a reclusive nation but damn... if even he didn't know about it... "What about the Alicorns and the others?"

Umbra blinks. "The others?"

"You mentioned there being 'demigods' and 'draconequui'?" I deliberately make my pronunciation of both a bit awkward in order to sound unfamiliar with the terms as I watch shadows dance across the walls behind us, thinking all the while. Biding time. Forging anger.

"Ah! Yes, them. As the world burned I knew that the Alicorns, stranded in the southern continent with the help of my magic and..." Umbra pauses, his eyes flickering with something that looked like worry or the irritation one would direct at a headache. A particularly malicious headache. The magic around him spikes suddenly and his presence splits into two distinct magical auras for a split second, an expression of something between frozen shock and muted, near invisible horror on his face for that brief moment.

The temperature plummets as a result and I have the sense to remain composed though my mind immediately sparks to life, rapidly trying to find what would be able to cause something that should be impossible. It feels like something wanted to escape him...

I grit my teeth and try to decipher everything I recalled in that instant, trying to come up with some way to find out that doesn't need my new god's magic to read what happened and offer some clue with those red runes and the useful details they've provided so far. Instead, I begrudgingly dismiss the thoughts until I have something more to go off of and continue to slowly work my way to winning more details. Ponies say a lot of things, most of which have no value at all, but whoever first spread the idea of  'patience is a virtue' was one of the rare exceptions.

"And the rest is...?" I say, boredly offering him a reminder of his story while I prepare to mentally deconstruct and reconstruct each piece of information Umbra knowingly - and unknowingly - gives to me the more I keep him talking. My multitasking mind swarms with activity under a stoic mask, preparing for any comment and constructing possible future questions for when I need to ask about demons.

Umbra surveys my apparent disinterest, but the little signs of betrayal in his eyes tell me that he has come to no new conclusions about me. Only traces of suspicion - of what, I'll have to learn - remain present each time he acknowledges me.

"The draconequui were led here, Sombra, where I betrayed them and began to construct the beginnings of Niflhel. The rest of the Alicorns were lured here by me and trapped." Umbra concluded with the same leering look that I wanted nothing more to mar, pulling each grotesque tooth out of his jaw one by one. He was going to suffer at my hoof. To engineer the most satisfying revenge, I needed more information. There's always more to hide and almost endless ways to deceive. I would fall for none of them.

And the best plans, planned by none other than the best strategist - myself - would need to have foundations I can work with and manipulate as I choose, cheating by all rules except my own when I needed to. So I'll play this game a little longer. Perhaps Umbra will even feel humored. I only need to do as I have always done and read between the lines, something so ingrained in me by my own will and experience that it feels more automatic than most survival instincts I possessed.

Offering Umbra a facetious half-smile that held deception any who actually knew me would be able to feel, I waved a hoof with even more apathetic dismissiveness then he would ever be able to manage, effectively showing him how things are done.

"Is that so?" I start, trying to mimic some of Luna's mischievousness with my statement in an effort to skew his perception of what my personality actually is. "There's hardly even whispers of the old Alicorns outside of what buried ruins still lurk in the folds of the world. Knowledge is my price, and it's always a high one. Its rarity makes it worthwhile."

"Knowledge is... useful," Umbra says, his sick leer growing a bit, "but becoming power is truly filling."

You lie. 

I don't respond with anything other than an idle ear-flick in the direction of a distant hallway crashing into something. Tension builds in my withers mixed with a greater anticipation of possible violence. I don't roll them as I wish, since the simple gesture to dispel the feeling could be read in all sorts of ways that might give up something I wish to conceal.

"Between slaughtering the masses on a whim that isn't even worth comprehending to me, have you done anything else? You said I'm the first of your creations-" By the miracle that is my superior sense of stubbornness, I refuse to let all the contempt that belongings in the last two words that even suggest I'm not something all my own seep into my words. "-to return here. Why is that?"

The atmosphere of Niflhel dragged on, much like my conversation with Umbra. Unlike the discussion I was having, the creeping feeling of dark stagnation in Niflhel's 'heart' made the tumultuous and occasionally dizzying feel of magic feel like it was balancing on the edge of the utterly inhospitable, mostly uninhabitable cavernous chamber. To say I had a slight headache from the oddity was a gross exaggeration. Luckily, I had no problems maintaining the focus I needed to work this game of deception against somepony who only felt alive, but bore none of the normalcy of death.

Umbra was nothing, and to many that was incomprehensible horror. His magic sat equally stagnant and flat so that if I were to wave a hoof too close to the air surrounding him, I would find it unusual that the heaviness my senses detected wasn't merely illusory. With my experience, I knew better than to be fooled purely by how ponies looked... and felt...

...and the things that they promise, or the way they talk about you when...

Gah. Ponies. They aren't worth saving, so I won't save them. Ponies may live in this world, yes, but as a whole they mean nothing. I'll save the world because I live here. Did anypony think that I would do all this out of the goodness of my heart? Never. I was wonderfully selfish and I wanted the planet I lived on intact, thank you very much.

One day, however far into eternity it may be, ponies are going to have just how wrong they have been shoved back in their faces; I'll stand by with a smile at the irony of it all. That day is not today. I long for it to happen, but patience has always been something I had in excess - where it counts - and I know that if I ever want that day to happen, it'll be something I need to work towards, starting with today and onward into forever from there.

Umbra tries to remain totally expressionless. For a hollow creature like him he's not exactly half bad at it, but there's always a host of little betrayals with him. Inside, my ego soars at every victory, no matter how small, they'll all add up to something greater.

The slightest flick of his ear spells out uncertainty, no matter how hollow the gesture is on him - again, everything but his cruelty is entirely reminiscent of something that's alive. I've seen drawings with more life than he has and that's coming from somepony who can't draw.

His eyes flicker with dying hesitance and contemplation fade in his eyes and he finally speaks with that shell of conversational tone. "You know nothing of your own kind?"

"I live in damned wasteland, hang out in ruins, throw food at birds for no reason other than wanting to, and am both the most shady drifter and the least shady drifter in the remains of the world at the same time. I'm literally homeless - and proud! Sometimes when I'm lazy enough, I root through the trash to find things that are vaguely edible and these gray cats that think they can take me on. I usually don't find anything that could pass as mostly-edible on the usual day. How ever, the few cities that I still bother to acknowledge in my daily life often have very interesting garbage that is even more interesting to me as I'm stealing them. So yeah, I know next to nothing of my own kind."

Umbra looks unsure of what was just said to him, his gaze as bleak as the existence of the average pony. "An alrrakun?"

"No, they're those funky gray cat things that live in woods and trash. Part of me considers them to be something like kindred spirits. And if you're curious, I've been to enough places to pick up a few extra languages for when one language isn't good enough to properly convey how dissatisfied with all that has the nerve to occupy the same plain of existence I do."

"You are a polyglot garbage thief of a demon who... has not slaughtered anything or been directly involved with the mayhem of the world?" Umbra looks at me with the barest hints of disbelief, which for him is showing an almost extreme amount of emotion.

"I never said that."

The pause between us finally goes long enough to be awkward. Slowly, he scrapes his feathers, with their crystalline coating, on the edge of the monolith between us. The drawn out scratching sound it makes is dreadful and reminds me of the endless noise pollutants outside this central chamber. To keep it from bleeding into my ears too much, I flatten them against my skull and growl at him, spitting out my words through clenched teeth.

"Well? Are you going to disclose anything more to me or not?!"

In an motion that was eerily fluid, Umbra dips his head into a deep nod. The flow of mane feels exaggerated as he does so, but all the while I stare into his unblinking purple eyes with as much general malice as I will permit myself to reveal.

I've shaved away a few layers of him. In return he has gotten little to no reading on me, as I've anticipated when it comes to only showcasing certain aspects of my personality and bending - as well as using - the truth. Manipulation is best with an element of patience like this. Only somepony as good as I, Sombra would deal with the sheer amount of tediousness that can go into these kinds of endevours.

When Umbra raises his head to look down upon me once more with that stare that sees past me, I know that round two has begun. He knows not that I have already won the first. Compared to how things could go, it isn't the best I could do.

But hey, I'll taken what I can get...

...and much, much more.



...



By default, I cannot read minds. To control a pony's mind, you don't need to read their mind - at least, not directly - so much as you need to read them through their actions. From that, an idea of what their mind is like can be constructed and it becomes easier to pick with manipulation of the non-magical kind. It really is like lock picking and can prove to be an extremely delicate business. Ponies can rarely tell that it's happening, which, I suppose, would be tragic enough if I didn't expect it. My motives aren't the most malicious, but if they were...

Once you have a pony's mind, it's like being given a key to an entire private world. But, to obtain this key you have to unravel the trickiest part - the process that would be the interior of the metaphorical lock. Everyone has little differences that make or break the process. The larger differences are noticeable from the start, and often of immediate importance.

So how do you work something that might as well be its own language? You find the similarities, don't you? The things that bind all ponies together, a universal constant? Wrong, wrong, and wrong. The differences are what is meant to be highlighted, and in this case, exploited. Differences are what matters. I both love and hate others for them. Those are what makes a 'good' - the irony of just how relative implications surrounding that term - dark mage.

One of the best ways to manipulate somepony is to make sure they don't know that they're being manipulated. Though most wouldn't bother to think of it as so, that way is the far more merciful option than many I know.

Umbra suspects something of me. Perhaps he guesses that I'm withholding something, which would be true. There is no problem in letting him know that I hold cards, but knowing the cards I hold would be disastrous. Every perception he has of me needs to be skewed and disjointed. Any estimation he has on my intelligence should be especially unclear and play into what he would think to be the simplest answer to come to - an answer that would also be the worst.

Umbra already knows that I have some knowledge of the Old World and am not stupid... but perhaps I can work things a little bit and play inexperienced. In his eyes, a twenty four year old isn't going to be as fiercely intelligent as I would be, yes, but to him they'll also reek of false assurance. All I have to do is act my age and little details will silently bug him and guide him to certain assumptions.

And what better to start with than coming off as less than adept at some of the more technical aspects of magic, thus offering a fragmented perspective and letting him continue to believe that I'm a wasteland wandering hick - who also doesn't overthrow empires as a teenager, get trapped in voids where my lifespan is forcibly extended while I exist in an extraphysical state, fall in love with goddesses, go on adventures, eat pizza, and do other things that are perfectly average for far above-average for shameless homeless nutcases like myself.

I love me, I conclude with a surprisingly small swell of pride for one such as myself.

"Did you invent dark magic?" I ask Umbra and resist making any expression that would betray just how smart I am - oh, and resisting brain damage for asking something so utterly moronic that I could go on for hours about just how stupid it is. I force my eye to be still since a twitch is unneeded and would be risky to show. The last thing I want to do is indicate anything about my visual problems.

Umbra gives me yet another hollow smile, as if to let me know that some part of his immortal soul died hearing that question, and this one withers slowly compared to the others. Once his usual blank look was resumed. "Magic like this cannot be invented. The magic of talents, gods, and - well, there are a few other irreplicable, rare things in magic - are the only things that are truly invented... you and I were not. We came from something that already existed, sprung from the place where nothing and everything converge. The magic that makes demigods is similar. Existing magic is amplified and near-obliterates a creature, changing their soul in an almost parallel task of our summoners, but less impressive. From there, if they exhibit enough mastery to find their own way they are partially reconstructed with all that they can withstand in order to mimic the highest form available - the Alicorns, most natural of the gods, who walk all the plane of magic unburdened. Can you grasp all that?"

The enthusiasm I wished to show was smothered as I nodded curtly. Everything he just said was overflowing with so much knowledge unsaid. The pieces that I just obtained were priceless and both confirmed things I suspected and filled gaps I didn't know was there. The things I would be learning here would be things that have gone unknown to civilization for thousands of years, just like all the knowledge I'd amassed in the Crystal Empire. It was mine to withhold and disclose as I pleased, though the extents of the monopoly I so selfishly kept as my own, and weren't even known to Luna. In time, that could change.

It was also such a curious thing, the way Umbra talked about himself. I still had yet to pick apart just where Hasad began, Umbra ended, and vice versa. They seemed far more blended than Onyx and I.

I nodded again, knowing he had more to say, and Umbra continued. "The magic that you and I came from was captured and perfected by me where it was latent within the world, no matter how much Hasad thought he invented it. He has learned otherwise, but Hasad has only an inkling of anything like control now. He retreated into the inner fray once the First Raze had ended. Despite your apparent dominance, Sombra, you and I have some knowledge of the turmoil there."

There - that was something I didn't know. Not quite. The way he talked about 'the fray' - that was no doubt the struggle for control between him and Umbra? I dragged a hoof along the arm of my new throne. No, it's almost like he's suggesting there's more... Luna's stars, how I'd like to be blunt right now when such intriguing answers are begging for me to wrestle their complexity for my own gain... but...

I kept a level stare. Aloof. Distant. A small lash of his tail told me he didn't expect this from me, even if the full extent of what 'this' was had to be figured out.

...I have a game to win.

"Did Hasad have any part in breaking the Alicorns?"

Umbra waves a hoof again, it's his right, which is the most common for ponies to express dominance in. I guess it goes for demons too. I recall that Luna favors neither, something I had never seen before.

"Some, yes. We worked in tandem for a while, but never as a team. The others helped willingly, or were forced to."

Others? I doubt he means the draconequui; they were brainwashed into aiding him. Yet another thing to find out, then.

Every second is an eternity of making moves and reading silent cues with him. I yearn to say more, to retort in my usual style but this sort of thing requires so much patience to achieve a payoff where I'll be able to say everything I want to.

"Were there ever other demons then?" As risky a question as this could be, it has to be asked.

Umbra nods deeply and his main ripples again. It's the only part of him that doesn't move like clockwork. "Yes, Sombra. There were two others, long before even my summoner was old enough to walk. They lingered on in the legends of many kingdoms until-" Umbra paused, but needn't explain what caused them to fade. "...Even before it all, they were but shadows of legend, mostly in the Everfree Kingdom. It was these legends, as incomplete as they were, that Hasad listened to. They held a curious inspiration to him, but not one that he realized until all had passed, yes? Without an artifact of perfected magic, these two would not have came to be in the same way that you and I had."

Maintaining focus through all the thoughts that swarmed throughout my mind was like trying to take an enchanted sword to a twister. Yes, I was positively buzzing with inner distractions, but I of all ponies had the ability to cleave through it in such a dire situation.

"And yet, if you and I were to stand before those souls - who like you, mortal Sombra, are Tartarus bound before you even near your deathbed for both the sin of your summoner and the sin that is you - the differences between the four forms we see would not be that great. Yes, I inherited the immortality and traces of Prince Hasad's divine power instead of the more unicorn-like shape that belongs to the equine form of demons, solely because he was an Alicorn. Our souls of unnatural origin would aid us in erring to the corrupt fates of murder and conquest beyond all sense of moral - or lack of - that is our nature; to make the mortals who rise to greed and such delightfully sadistic pursuits more monstrous than ever imaginable. Dark magic would be sensed rippling in all of us, for it is our natural magic. Never before was it placed in devices of corruption."

I shiver slightly, and manage to move in a way that suggests it is only the throne that chills me. Knowing that I was bound for Tartarus as a mortal, no matter what I did, was one of the first instincts I had. When the names of the dead worlds were seared into my mind, the part of me that was implanted knowledge from something beyond unreliability knew that a demon's place in death was Tartarus. It was the only place that the bond that finalized any attachment I had to Onyx would be severed. I knew it would apply to the stallion before me as well.

He still talks about me like I'm a mad barbarian warlord - that's important, I know it is, but why? What is it that he thinks guarantees me that path? I need to listen more. The more details I have, the better, and I have every opportunity to obtain them.

"You act like there couldn't be a demon who wants to be a scribe. A demonic scribe who is evil enough to put empty inkwells with ones that are full and act like there's no difference, but not so far gone that they would break the tip of every quill."

Umbra makes a small snort, continuing to stare past me. His purple eyes were dull and didn't hold the luster of any living creature I knew. He had the stare of a blind pony. For all I knew, he could be blind after staying in here so long. Then again, with an Alicorn-like nature that would be nearly impossible unless he were to try and blind himself.

"And you, Sombra, act as though a demon like either of us could defy our irreversible nature and the agony that comes with us - and all the others within us - both for those we encounter and put such a lovely end to-" Umbra's mouth tugs in a tight, almost forced smile that looks so fake I feel myself shudder a bit, "-or what we must endure as demons?"

"Haven't you ever heard of a joke?" I reply smoothly, minor signs of annoyance showing through bored disapproval, but only because I let them.

...And, what do you know, I have more things for me to make heads and tails of. I doubt that Umbra thinks that I'll be the one leaving alive; there's something he wants from me and he's not exactly a gracious host. He has no reason to be withholding too much from me. There isn't much of a reason for him to be straightforward either.

In the two seconds I allot myself to drum my forehoof on the throne's arm as the only sign that I'm thinking instead of revealing just how deep in thought I am, I conclude that all this is dancing around some key aspect of demon nature. Were I to try and chose the simplest option, it'd be me proclaiming or assuming that all demons are 'supposed to be evil' or anything so dumbed down it might as well be another one of Celestia's lies.

I have to keep playing. Small details will be what makes or breaks every move I make in here, and I can't miss a single one; the simplest choice is the one that's usually best avoided in all but a select few circumstances. This would not be one of those times. "You don't have much of a sense of humor, do you?"

Umbra's face stays blank. "No, I do not. None of us do."

There he goes with that 'us' again. I doubt it's a majestic plural. From the Book - and this was centuries ago, when even I was bordering on completely oblivious to many things about my own kind - I learned that a demon... wasn't exactly some howling beast that rampaged through just about anything. I told Mac a little about this in our first adventure, but was careful to leave out many, many things without lying.

Though I may be honest, honesty can be even more malleable than lies when used correctly. Truth isn't fickle, merely enigmatic, and in my experience the more unusual something sounds and the more it is rejected by the masses, the more it is likely to be true. Does this apply to everything? Of course not. My mind may be a rather dark place, but it's not a place of absolutes and ignorance like a certain Alicorn mare's...

I was very lucky from the moment I was created. There was only one demon in the spell that bound Onyx and I into a complete Shadow. That demon was me, and together Onyx and I were a Shadow as Umbra and Hasad were. But unlike me, there was only one demon. Within Umbra, there could be hundreds of different demons locked in endless strife and mental bloodsport alongside Hasad, the Alicorn prince who perfected all this.

Hiding in the sagas of old and many texts in the Crystal Empire's burned knowledge was an old Everfree phrase: inner demons. 

The terms has lost most of the insult and enormity behind it that was carried in days of old, and of course, in the expected ignorance of ponies they don't know what it really means. It's a gods-damned racial slur, describing none other than entities like yours truly. While the body I have isn't merely some vessel I inhabit like many of the demons in a Shadow would have, were they to control the magic-built and magic-given body that belonged to the main demon, the Named demon: Umbra and my esteemed self. This doesn't mean that I'm not an extraphysical creature. I'm still able to manifest as such. Yet, most demons? They would have been purely extraphysical, never having any ability to exercise their form until they found themselves at the threshold of Tartarus.

I've hated the term 'inner demons' which is tossed so carelessly in reference to vice - something I've been reduced to in the eyes of many - in the more modern usage that has altered drastically from the original: a true monster, not some creature akin to a rampaging dragon, but something all too equine, just waiting to be, to lose themselves - if there's anything left at all. It refers to the unseen souls trapped within a Shadow.

Something that I just barely wasn't, only by chance and chance alone. I could have been locked in mental bloodsport for the rest of my days, unable to feel anything other than emotion and the pain foreign to all who haven't been subjected to mind magic, or just happened to be your run of the mill non-physical being. Even my own private mind wouldn't be what it is now in that kind of despicable arrangement, where most would be gradually and painfully bleeding into the main personality at their sadistic dictation as the champion - and owner of the body, the Named one.

None would be able to die until that one does. I'd never want that, but there isn't exactly anything to be thankful for about having escaped something outside of the control of any and all.

I'm just really damn lucky.

"So then why don't you tell me about your 'masterpiece'? What made it that?"

Asking a creator of anything to enlighten about their magnum opus should spark something in them, any kind of zest or emotion - just any damned spark - anything that would highlight the subject as their passion. I didn't find it to be entirely unexpected that Umbra wouldn't react like that. I had also counted on there being some sadistic delight in the corruption and poisonous nature of every letter of spell work that was meant to engineer and trick the fallen into creating instruments of destruction... like me.

He just hollowly gave me a reply as if I asked him what he thought about the dirt that one would tread upon over a road. Nothing reflected in his eyes. The toneless quality of his words caused the slightest ache in my ears as I listened and the room felt like it spun a bit.

"Of all the things to ask about, you choose to ask me about the silly magic book that acts as a channeling point for the pure corruption bestowed a half-conscious to twist living beings into summoners? That is it?"

A half-conscious entity of eldritch knowledge, and one that he engineered himself. He brushes it off as a 'silly magic book' yet has the nerve to also dub it his masterpiece...

I swallow a growl and keep drumming my forehoof with thinly masked impatience. "No, I wanted to ask you about your latest pulp fiction novel. It isn't everyday that a demon overlord authors one of those!"

Umbra's ignorance of nearly every emotional reaction fathomable and particularly poor excuses to fell trees is enough to get an eye twitch out of me. He doesn't seem to notice.

Personally, I'd like to see how he looks with a few fireballs to the face. I find it to be a recurring fantasy as my time with him wears on. My horn even itches a bit with sparks that are only barely going uncast. My stronger will reins in my desire to let the aura instinctively trying to bubble into existence until the feeling stops and only the desire remains.

"That old thing was created to house, create, and focus the magic needed to do its job. Yes, Sombra it could have done more than that, and it did. It was made solely to find those who needed to show their natures, who would lose themselves and take everything from them in return for what they had always wanted."

He didn't notice that I had nothing to say in reply. I already knew this much and simply let the passing stagnation make me a little more patient. Yes, I've waited for a millennium to live again - there was no 'simply' - to something like that. Patience is something I have in spades for all the things that matter. Tolerating those below me? That one has always been iffy.

For things like answers, revenge, love, victory... I could wait forever.

I had always questioned just how much the Book was aware of things. Umbra's words confirm that it was at least aware of a purpose, like the way a construct - curse those disgusting, hollow things - knew whatever orders a caster put inside it. Constructs knew nothing more than that. Yet, the Book knew you and what it needed to do to take you away, only to give back everything you ever and never wanted in tandem.

It also gave me the world...

...Which is something I'll never let Umbra take from me.

I let him ramble on about everything I already know. There's only so much I can do to him with mind magic.

Yes.

Mind magic.

It's not like I'm not unable to do it, or like I'm going to back down. Even if part of me will always hold the necessary doubt and fear of this victory that's been so long in the making. I use mind magic because he's done far worse than anything I'm likely to see often in all of eternity, and because I need to see him suffer.

I want to.

I use mind magic because I know I have limits, skill, and all the ruthless desire...

But...

Of all the knowledge that is spun for every demon that finds themselves in this world, the ones springing from the Book's pages from nothingness... we both know that I can't and not because I don't want to... the curved horn that we share that allows us mastery of dark magic that no unicorn can expect isn't unable to perform the task I'd like it to - it isn't that. My skill with the magic I despise and hardly bother with - and even then, only in such tame portions - is unrivaled among everypony I've met outside of this warped little world. Part of it is because Umbra's mind... and other demons... aren't things I'd like to see, to feel. Just because I have a metaphorical sword doesn't mean that I'm safe from any blows.

Really, it'd be quite the opposite. I should expect harm more than anything else. That is one of the first rules of fighting anything and not a bad rule for life, too. Those are things that could infect me - not corrupt; the both of us are immune to that effect - but there's things in there that are best unseen by all. He could try and strike me too, if I didn't have proper defenses. The true reason? Demons can use mind magic on one another all we please. If I had... others... in my head, I would need to defend against them, or even hurt them myself. The nature of demons isn't a remotely peaceful one, no matter how little you know. It's none of that because other Shadows can't use dark magic against one another. All dark magic duels would be a stalemate. Our powers would cancel one another's out.

It's that simple.

In fact, it's so simple that I didn't tell Luna.

She simply never asked.

It wasn't the simplest thing to do, to not tell her that the chance of me not coming back is simply far higher than she could've expected.

That I willingly walked into what would likely be my eternal torment. 

That she'll be the only one I miss.

That she gave me the only time of my life I have loved.

There's also Mac, and there's the few times I lie. I lied to her when I say that I would let our last words to one another be a Crystalline exchange from me and a hug. If I don't come back within a week, it's Luna's turn to save the world. I didn't let things stop there. That kind of plan would never do. Luna has three days to save the world. In the event that she doesn't and I don't come back...

Well...

With all that Mac has learned from me and the little bit of dark magic she has picked up...

...and since a little goes a long way...

...She's completely willing to drag Luna out kicking and screaming, crying her heart out, and in whatever state that she can be found in and wait out the end of the world in the Crystal Empire. Mac's willing to let her empire be the last thing to survive the Second Raze. And, she told me, that she's willing to fully harness the little bit of dark magic she still had to become a Shadow to do it. I don't care if Celestia had Mac in her greedy white hooves the day she grew a horn. That girl is my niece, through and through. She may not be Luna, but I'll be damned if I don't love her a little bit too. Plus, she did sell me her first born; she walked right into this kind of bargain.

I exhale softly, watching my breath come out in the fog that signifies cold.

And thawing. Quickening. Something under snow and ice.

Of course that is where my mind drifts to - snow, ice, and storms that blurred the border between the heavens and the earth, veiling mountains from my view. Those mountains hid a damnable city of crystal, and in that city of crystal, I met two mares that literally helped drive me to the end of the world. The thought of letting Luna down is crushing. The thought of letting Mac down is decently inconvenient.

I look up at Umbra, all my determination hiding behind red eyes. He returns the stare rather passively, as I would expect him to. All this time, it hasn't been the ponies I've met or the places I've been to that have helped me and kept me going. It was none of that, and it wasn't anything else either. It has always been me. From the start to a non-existent end, I've always been there. Everything started with me. Everything might as well be about me. Even if things were going to end, they would end with me. I've watched so much fall apart, and today I'm not about to let that continue.

Round three of this game begins now.



...



I can't bear to close my eyes, and for such a long time I felt unable to do so. I can remember blinking, but the action always felt like an illusion. For me, blinking didn't mean I missed a glimpse of a world that turned on in that split second of darkness, it meant that the world - and all the horrors, both bare and concealed, it needed to force into my vision in a way that felt as if everything and anything was being splattered across each unprotected conjunctivia of mine.

It was the world that stopped, pausing in the dark that still wouldn't lessen visions of things that were and things that weren't - both could be equally horrific - and letting them worsen every time I closed my eyes.

Glaring light illuminated everything that nopony could see. Sometimes they were things like monsters in the making, who walked among other ponies as normal as ever, and other times it simply shone upon broken things, or better things that belong in the dark - even if that dark was a crystalline tomb smack in the center of an empire felled in a single day by two teenagers.

When I looked at Umbra, I did not blink. I felt my blood boil and a growl grow in my throat. I did not blink. My jaw was caught between being slightly clenched and wanting to feel my accursed fangs grit. But I did not blink.

In my ears, I could hear a faint hum of anger and the magic this world had. Snide remarks that could be practically welled up on my tongue, waiting to fall off into existence. Always, I kept my gaze trained on Umbra, who did likewise, but far less intensely. Everything burned between us.

Umbra didn't react other than swiveling an ear slightly. When he spoke, his voice was still caught up in that toneless normalcy that any pony would never think to question or spot. "Will those be the last of your questions, Sombra?"

He tries to warp my name when he speaks and bestow the same hollow quality that the rest of his speech has. Even my name defies him and Umbra's accentless voice, barren of everything, catches on the syllables and makes parts of his pronunciation clumsy. I watch his eyes fill with dark magic's smoke and take on their more demonic appearance in agitation, his tail whipping about. The light that glistened in his eyes only looked like shattered reflections instead of a sign of life. His eyes weren't much like mine either - not in color. When dark magic swelled in him, his irises were shaded with unmistakable and vibrant read, whereas his irises and pupils were a deeper green than mine were, but almost an exact inverse of how my eyes looked with the same magic. I silently observed that purple smoke went unchanged between us. He wouldn't know this until I showed him and let my own magic flare to life in all its savagery and skill, ready to tear him apart...

"No."

His wing tips strike the surface again. The grating noise it produces is awful and drags out. I can feel it throbbing in my ears and crawling down my spine. The growl forming in my throat swells, but I hold back, if only for now.

"Then what more do you have to ask?" Unlike me, it was plain that Umbra held no curiosity towards me. All I saw said so, especially those eyes that looked at me like I was even less then a weapon with their hungry stare that wanted to tear me apart and see something I was not, looking through me in every way to visualize whatever it was that crossed his mind and stayed there.

"Our aura is the same when we use dark magic, at least on our horns, and yet our eyes show this differently. Why is that?"

Umbra let out an undignified snort and shoved his rippling mane back with a hoof so it no longer flowed beside him, but behind him as a backdrop. "Do unicorn ponies, the demigods, and Alicorns not have different aura as well? It is one of the few cursed bits of individuality that we have."

'Cursed' and 'individuality' in the same sentence is one of the few things I could call wrong. The world is filled with so little of it as it is, and here he is cursing something so right.

"Then explain why it is different," I demand tersely, finally allowing detectable slivers of hostility into my tone. 

Umbra's cold stare changes a little, shifting into an acknowledgement that he thinks I don't see. And here I thought that he would be a bit more unreadable. Yet, I suppose his lack of emotional comprehension and preconceptions of me, something I never bothered much with him - have led him to make such wonderful little mistakes for me to reap... not that he wouldn't be planning something else. Every little thing I can think of and each sign he's shown me is clear that he doesn't want me to leave while I'm still alive. Or at all.

I'm not withholding my wrath for nothing.

There will be a fight. Violence isn't the question or the answer here, it's an inevitability and one that I'm going to find myself enjoying.

"There is nothing particularly complicated behind the matter, Sombra the Demon," Umbra drawls. A monotone would be more intriguing than the way he speaks. "Dark magic lingers. It does not disappear, but can be destroyed, as we both know."

He pauses to look at me and gets no sign that confirms that I know this and that this information is merely a review to me. Noticeable hints of displeasure at my endless determination to appear as nothing short of difficult to read and hostile show with the clench of his jaw before he continues.

"More than just traces of our magic can be... ah, 'picked up' for lack of a better term to use around one as magically uneducated as you must be."

Excuuuse me?! I'm supposed to be the condescending asshole around here. I grit my teeth and internally debate which limb to remove from Umbra first or how difficult it might be to pull out his teeth one by one...

The teeth thing sounds nice, admittedly. I certainly have the skill... and experience... to pull it off.

"Dark magic-" 

Umbra interrupts me immediately. "You really could call it 'demon magic' if you wanted to properly sound like an outsider. It is the endgame of all its corruption, anyway. When dark magic is used in excess, it does not simply dissipate. It lingers. This is especially true where äerint has been festering, as it seeps into the world where it has been implanted."

Yeah, no kidding. It's not like I've ever been to the Crystal Empire! Or had to be the brains behind the whole operation that kept me there for eight years! Never!

"Because of this, your magic would still stay where you have made a strong presence - something far stronger than most all magical imprints."

IT'S NOT LIKE I EVER USED ANY OF THIS INFORMATION TO RESURRECT MY ETERNALLY BEAUTIFUL FACE AND BODY, WHICH SET ALL THIS INSANITY IN MOTION, NOW IS IT, DIPSHIT?!

I am currently redefining 'stoic'. The only reason those who gazed upon me in this moment would not find my image as the very definition is because any image of me is generally too unflattering for my tastes, and this is coming from the stallion whose first thought upon learning what a camera was how many pictures of my smug face I could take.

"When a powerful unicorn or a demigod-" He looked at me meaningfully as he said the last word, while most of me just wondered to why he excluded 'Alicorn' among those two. "-attempts to use your corrupt magic, they must work with these traces and try to encourage them to stay within them as they subconsciously work with your magic. This could include simply trying to think like you. Unless any degree of corruption takes hold, the aura's color should stay the same as yours, demon."

"Says the other demon," I reply dryly while not screaming in his face that I already knew all this.

"Are you always so spiteful and crude?"

"Kiss my ass."

"I still lack proper insight into what that means."

Oh, there's so many ways that I could take advantage of this... "It's a kind of magic."

I watched as Umbra's brow furrowed deeply, even if I didn't think it was a proper reflection of just how confused he must be. "Were you not lying, that would mean you told me to kiss a kind of magic? What..."

It was impossible not to note that he said the word 'kiss' with a tone expressing all the familiarity of the average pony with group theory. Meanwhile, my apathetic expression was purely automatic. My mind whirled with all sorts of devious potential for ironic humiliation among the many other things I had learned and tried to apply, predict, and analyze all at once. Multitasking has always been an ability that I've treasured.

"Would this 'ass' as you have called it, be your ability as I have my sentries?"

That was a question I didn't need to ask. Umbra's shadow 'sentries' weren't as unknown to me as would be anticipated. In fact, not all his magic was as wholly unknown to me.

A fantastical hat in my possession, and in it, a small shelter from the snow that any southerner like Purple Eyesore would value...

...wastes far outside of Trotland, which receded behind me with every step I took through the snow...

...and a sliver of something black cutting against the snow, and floating there, beholding me. Whatever it was, I knew it could never be smoke. It radiated the magic of the Book - something I hadn't felt since then - and something else that was far more malicious.

It felt as though it were trying to read me, to know me...

...and in that state, I couldn't get away fast enough, but maybe somepony else could...

He has already seen me before, and we both know it. All this? It's just another part of a game I won't lose. Like Celestia, he wears a mask to hide what is only revealed with each attempt to cover the truth. I merely give another version of it; but it is truth all the same.

There were many things that I was never able to learn from the physical copy of the Book, and now it would be impossible to do so now. However...

However... the Book was preserved. There was still the copy that was part of my mind... and Umbra's. I had only been able to work my way through reading so much of it and not all the depths and intricacies of dark magic told within something as unreliable as the book were known to me. Besides, that would only be accessible to somepony through mind magic now... I don't imagine that I'd be able to stabilize the Book's own shadow for very long either. The chance of nothing showing up would be even larger.

In the pages of the Book - both versions; they were equally tricky - I hadn't come across anything that detailed the ability that I held . Possession and forming myself into shadow instead of just being restricted to my equinoid form were likely to be in my nature only. Though, I knew demons were always born formless, a shift to shadow was not among their form repertoire. Thus, I had no idea if the ability was one exclusive to me - not that I would dare risk something like possession on Umbra, even if it could work on him...

"No," I replied, a thousand thoughts in my mind cramming themselves between every second of silence outside of me.

Offering no response, Umbra shifted away from me for a moment. Neither of us said a word and the air was heavy with the tension of suspicion - both of us were scheming and deceiving the other in more than one way.

"Sombra-" 

There he goes again, saying my name as if it were unwanted and that I shouldn't have any at all.

"-as the chief demon, I must inquire: what is the power that you and you alone hold?"

"Do you think I would ever tell you?"

"Ah, but surely you do not think that every act of deception that you make will be just another reason for me to inflict pain upon you?" Umbra's eyes sparkled with cruelty - and finally, finally showed something resembling true emotion. As expected, the tiny peek at all of the undeniable instability was boiling right below the surface. His blank behavior now would almost appear to be like a facade in comparison when he starts to show everything else.

"I think that I'm better than you," I reply without hesitation, my sentence ending with a rumbling growl that dissolved into quiet, letting my testy tone echo.

Umbra leaned forward, his own eyes only showing some depthless malice and hollow detachment. "How arrogant you are, Sombra. Whatever would make you say such a thing?"

An obvious, cruel smirk spreads across my muzzle and I let it grow even wider as a silent boast of all my arrogant cruelty. My fangs flash with the hint of some temper to come and a good deal of charm, however twisted. Silence breaks when a trickle of humorless laughter as cold as ice escapes my throat. Pulling and working the little stitches of concealment that cut corners none would think to look for and shifted the feel of my magic so it was rearranged to just be everything between the fire and ice that Umbra felt, I let it all fall so that he can sense just what it is that I am.

... and a part of who I am, I add silently, my irises flashing with a scarlet glow for a moment.

For once, Umbra shows true emotion when I let my godhood flicker into existence. He pulls back sharply, purple eyes so dull with detachment suddenly lucid and shining with a whole range of things between shock and horror. They fade quickly, but the clarity is there. His mane whirls about like a blacker-than-starless-nights storm before settling with an agitated ripple.

"You-" His voice is an unequine growl laced with so much blind hostility that even I can't hide a shudder as his lip curls up into a snarl that shows off his horrific teeth, slick and ripping with spit. For the first time I have heard a growl like my own from another being like me when I am so used to everything only being 'close enough' from other creatures. Ponies certainly made no growls. 

"Are an immortal god," I finish. "My name is Sombra. The world isn't quite what you'd expect it to be and demigods are the last things that you will ever have to fear when something as divine as my esteemed self walks the world. Out everything I have told you, the only unalterable truth is that I, Sombra, God of Knowledge, am your superior in every way and will defy you endlessly, as I have everything else. It doesn't matter how grand you think yourself, because I will always be better."

Like the almost-lies that I have told, the table and seat of Umbra meld to nothing and force their way back into the ground as the äerint-coated feathers of Umbra shone with crackling dark aura.

I leapt from my throne, standing in the shadow of the third demon, my crimson eyes breaking past the dark umbra of his shadow and boring into every part of them. My magic god-sight tinted the world in shades of scarlet and crimson, bathing every shadow red in some parallel to all the magic and wrath that I had burning in me.

With a simple half-second long slice of dark aura, I unmade the throne I had hastily forged myself and stood unmovable, my own form cut in sharp contrast to my surroundings - yet another place I was alien in - as the cavernous chamber's air rippled with clashing magic sensations. Those twin powers were the feeling of everything that mine held, and the near-nothing of Umbra's.

He stepped forward with a surprisingly swift but not entirely unexpected gesture and yanked me up to meet him by seizing my bangs in his telekinesis. I growled and felt dark fire start to spark on my horn, knowing my temper far too well. As unwavering as ever, my baleful and now completely merciless gaze seared into Umbra's purple one, brimming with defiance that could never break. I wanted him to know this, that I was unbreakable.

He would know this.

"You disgust me with your uselessness," he hissed. "Any demon would have been better than you - not only are you an impossibility, but an eternal outlier! Demons know two natures: those bound in amoral and unstoppable wrath that knew only to take no matter the taboo upon an action, much like myself. Then there are those forever trapped in unspeakable misery and the pain of both guilt, agony, and a demonhood made more abusive by their own attempts to overflow with such torment and passive attempts to resist the destruction that is our nature. Each have been before and would be far better than you could ever be! For the masterpiece's only creation, you are entirely worthless! I shall savor nothing more than breaking such a waste as you into eternal submission to me!"

I writhed as his filthy aura touched me and levitated me up to look him even closer in the eyes that stared beyond, shivering violently at the touch. Despite this violation that was no doubt minor for him and growls overflowing in my throat, waiting to tear through the air, I bristled with a wrath unlike one I hadn't felt in centuries. My mane rippled with hints of my shadow form; it was always the first part of me to fall 'victim' to me attempting to control any sudden shifts in my physical forms. It almost made me look like an Alicorn.

"What do you mean? An 'outlier'?" My mind swam with possible meanings, but kept turning back to the concept of a statistical outlier. What would I be a statistical outlier for...? He said there were two kinds...

"YES!" he roars. My heart pounds wildly in my chest, both from rage and fear that fills me, feeding my magic and vice versa. Umbra is still a being of immense power, despite being my inferior, it doesn't mean he isn't capable of destruction and magical feats equal to the power he has.

"Everything about you is wrong." Umbra's voice dropped, no longer a roar of indescribable anger, but a deep and guttural growl that mangled his words and made them echo off the walls. "So many more demons should have been spawned within you so the power of all of you combined would be uncontrollable. Every part of your being was supposed to be a fragmented amalgamation - NOT THIS!"

With my will alone, I managed to withstand his shouts and close proximity. Umbra's foul breath was different. Three thousand years trapped in here ensured that the fangs visible with a simple smile, while disgusting in appearance and drenched in his spittle somehow managed to be mostly intact. Being this close to Umbra, I was able to get an unfortunately good look at the rest of his teeth. Most of them were rotten and looked as corrupted as he was. Maybe he had managed to halt some of the course of whatever pestilence and array of disgusting conditions were working their way through him. Nevertheless, his bite would obviously be septic and I didn't like the glimpses of loose-looking fangs protruding like wolf teeth from the remains of his gums, which were indeed rotting while he was still alive.

The memory of my wolf teeth bubbled to the surface of my thoughts, and how awful the experience was of having to remove them myself. I was eighteen, and had it happened a few years earlier, I wouldn't have known what was going on. Luckily, pulling teeth wasn't knowledge I was never unfamiliar with once that crown was forced on my head. However horrible the memory was, it managed to distract me from most of the smell that reminded me so much of the few times I wasn't able to find a crystal pony that Onyx dispatched somewhere in the castle and days passed until I discovered what was left.

"Not what?" I growl. Compared to Umbra's outbursts, the echo of my voice dies quickly and the scraps of the short-lived sound of my unusually even tone was swallowed by the tunnels they spilled into, so that only the cold traces of anger that I put into each word would remain.

"There is only one of you!" Umbra's stare tries to tear through me and his purple irises that have never held any equinity, but there is always shock at my infinite defiance that matches his cruelty that comes in equal measure.

"Care to tell me what that entails?!"

Is that a small shimmer of fear that washes over Umbra's eyes in a thin coat? Yes. 

Using that moment of weakness, I wrench myself from his aura and move myself back to the ground with my telekinesis. Under my hooves, my own magic pulses so it looks as if I am standing in a translucent crimson puddle pooling from below my hooves. This is so I can protect myself from any attempt he might make against me, as well as aid in moving myself if he attempts a less violent offensive move.

The furious red glow of my horn reflects ominously in the pearly hilt of Fate.

"The horror of the sheer amount of individuality you must possess would mean that you and your summoner... could theoretically be separated," his last words, while still spoken with the contempt I'd always been shown for being thought of as lesser and a weapon, were almost whispered in contrast to his previous shouts. Something like fear did mange to work its way onto his face, no matter how awkwardly he showed it, and that was how I knew that his words were true.

And that was when I could manage nothing but a look of pure shock. My ears pricked to hear the sound of something great shattering. Whether it was real or not, I could feel something that was once impossible collapse and my mind manage five broken words, the loudest pauses between them:

Onyx and I... separate beings...

Everything spun. I had to have it; no matter how slim that possibility was, it needed to be mine!

A growl of pure determination echoed through the halls of Niflhel and I fix a stare of unfiltered, twisted fury on Umbra, no restraint to go with anything else he saw in my face. Through my boiling wrath and anger-sharpened senses, I caught a twitch of something vaguely like apprehension at the dark look I was giving him - one I had never given anypony or creature before and was beyond my usual show of savagery.

Then I spat on the ground.

We both knew what it meant.
> Chapter 44: Triumph By Fire
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Sombra:


All monsters are alike at their core: there isn't any of them left there, or there was never anything there to begin with. There are no exceptions to this rule, for it determines what makes a monster. Umbra is no different from the all the others; there's nothing beneath the surface, but that only serves to make him far more disturbing than dispel any fear.

He doesn't fight to preserve his life, to preserve another, for the preservation of superficial loyalty, or for selfish reasons that I could have some appreciation for. Umbra fights solely to hurt me and nothing more.

I don't bother to remove Fate from its sheath. This is a real fight, and fighting is quite literally what I was made for. Combat has always been ingrained into me and the will to fight always came naturally, it was only a matter if I comprehend the instinct I had found myself with and go above and beyond in how I applied it, making it my own.

Growling, I bared my fangs and stood proudly, making it known that I was ready for a fight as my horn glowed with crimson light that bathed the chamber in its sinister glow. I sensed the first move before he made it, the äerint to my right curling as his magic yanked it and warped it, thinking that I wouldn't be fast enough to dodge.

Unfortunately for him, my right side is where my vision is strongest, after having to make up for my left eye's disability for most of my life. As long as he doesn't attack my left side too much and my senses stay sharp, I can work out just what his spells will do, this will be far easier than anticipated. Unlike me, he doesn't even bother to keep his magic aura unfocused so that no specific forms of spellwork and magical intentions could be detected by our shared ability to sense magic. The wild, crackling aura would be far too unstable for most ponies too be able to control, but I was used to charging my horn with wild amounts of energy like this.

Umbra's äerint-coated feather tips flicked, clinking together as the swirling dark aura around them became far less thin and flowed more aggressively. The soles of my boots pulsed crimson and I finally detached the spells I had been weaving from my horn so that the glow was independent of all the attacks I would need to charge. Rage bristled through me, and the familiar, growing heat only aided in clearing my senses to help me dissect every detail of us and our surroundings. He won't be attacking me from below, but since when am I one to get careless?

Noting my always-vigilant poise and battle ready gaze, Umbra leered at me, every shred of conscious that even the worst ponies I've seen that should lingered was absent, as I had anticipated.

I lifted my lip into a snarl, finally able to show of the fangs that I've always dreaded. The display of disrespect stirs something in Umbra. Every shred of hollowness he has maintained so far crumbles to reveal a sudden expression of malice so deeply etched into him, even I was skeptical of how he hid something like that...

...and it gave me chills.

Flaring my horn with instinctual defense, I let fire fly.

Umbra sidestepped my fireball, the roaring sphere of green and violet soaring right past him and hitting the wall, where it dispersed with a shriek - it wasn't as if I hadn't sloppily charged it with some of my anger. Still, I couldn't help but find the vicious light so easily conjured by me as admirable in its brief display, no matter how much or little effort something so simple for me was.

"You disgust me," Umbra hissed through gritted teeth, trying to pull me apart with a gaze that even I thought decently intimidating.

"And this is coming from the xenocidal maniac who needs centuries of dental work?"

Umbra snarled at me and I simply rolled my eyes and returned with a growl of my own. My body bristled with nothing but aggression and wrath just begging to be let loose. Running my tongue over my fangs, I debated all the ways I could hurt him...

A low purr, brief and dripping with malice of my own pours from my throat, rumbling like distant thunder and sounding somewhere between sick delight and a low warning growl. Both Umbra and I stand carefully, the ground underhoof trembling with magic and the distant shakes of Niflhel's halls. 

"How did you do that?" he says, tone forceful and filled with the peculiar brand of authoritarian anger that royalty seems to have a knack for pulling off.

My response is to allow a part of my foreleg that is visible despite my cloak to slip into shadow even smokier than my long mane is now, hanging about my withers and flowing quietly while still bearing obvious signs of its usual messy look. A small bit of shock, however mechanical it looks, the display is still surprising for Umbra, shows on his face.

"That is your power? Odd." He finishes by snorting in disgust, to which I growl again.

"Look at you, Sombra," he says, voice riddled with traces of contempt as he indicates me with a disgusted flick of his feathers. "With your origin, you could have been a perfect disaster as I have been. You would have been as you should be, pinned under rage and misery both your own and of the others that should have been. Instead, the disgusting existence that you lead is independent and defiant. There is nothing more revolting than the sense of complete and utter cruelty and despair that should have been embedded in your for the rest of your life being absent. Everything about you is a disappointment. Like me, you should have been a monster, and instead-"

He gives me a second-long scowl of disgust, but the expression is flat and lifeless. "You, Sombra, are practically destiny's own bastard. A false god as well. If only my masterpiece were not lost, for I could make something so much better than you if the corruption that it bestowed was placed in the right hooves."

With something that sounds like half a sigh, his äerint-coated feathers glow with turbulent dark aura again. I watch silently, calculating and observing every little thing in his stance that I could use against him while trying to swallow another growl. My merciless gaze, filled with all the fire I'm going to show him, isn't the only part of me that radiates impressive hostility. Every part of me is fixed with stubborn and imposing signs that I am, without a doubt, dangerous. Once spotted, even Umbra's gaze is unable to ignore me as I make myself distinct from his shadow.

Nothing can touch me.

Umbra's look tells me he wants that to be otherwise as silence presses down on us once more.

I know that no matter how sensible he thinks he is or how rational he appears to be, that Umbra is just corruption with a mask he wants you to focus on, as though I could focus on anything but what I sense beneath it all. I'll always know better, but I also know that he knows that neither of us is susceptible to the same corruption that could hurt the ones I care about. If any of them had been the ones to end up here in my place, he'd use anything and everything against them to get the results he pleases. For him, it'd be automatic to jump moral boundaries that even Onyx had intact, and admitting that about the monster that has hurt me is not something I can do lightly.

Finally, I speak, the last words before things really begin belonging only to me.

"'Destiny's Bastard'? That's certainly a new one."

The last smirk that I'll make for a long while plays across my lips, and my irises flash red.

"I like it."



...



The walls tremble and the world is bathed in red through my eyes. A multitude of scarlet and crimsons tint every surface. Not even the shadows of this place were not spared from the effect of my power - even Umbra and I are seen through my red eyes. His lighter coat certainly does not look flattering in this light.

But at this moment, I really can't care about that. My focus is never in one place for long anymore. The surface of everything - Umbra and I excepted - is alive with the same mysterious runes parading across each surface, spelling on out details only I can read before their flickering, deeper red forms vanish, fading into the rest of the red-washed world.

While I can't possibly read all of them - and I'm not sure if I ever will be able to; only about half of them have burned their meanings into my mind - I'm able to make out half-formed descriptions of magical feats that I could do. There are a few others that are simple enough tricks that I had yet to try. All of them are arranged in half formed battle plans in haphazard fragments for me to glance over in attempts to pick and chose from the red-cut runes before they faded back into haze.

I currently was in no position to pay attention to them and let the strange scrawled magic text fade each time I turned or moved myself out of the way of Umbra's liberal warping of äerint. With neither of us able to use dark magic against the other and triumph, I delved into the magic of my godhood, letting the power feed into the anger that had built up for so very long and he continued to onslaught with dark magic, if only to attempt to intimidate me and overwhelm me with power.

His almost opaque aura enveloped the jagged äerint walls, roughly ripping and warping the crystal-like structure and trying to block my sure-hoofed movements. I have always been quicker than I looked - having to outrun visions of crystal ponies, maneuver in corrupted crystalline halls, and perform many other physical feats of physical strength throughout my life have always ensured that even in non-magical and unarmed combat. I'm still as lethal as can be even if I do look more like a dangerous wanderer than a mad genius with near-unrivaled combat skill.

My eyes quickly locate a spot on Umbra's latest strike with äerint. This time he decided to have the stuff spiral towards me, swarming across the walls like a serpent with a rush of noise like the outermost part of Niflhel. My focus narrows on the small flash of the whirling dark aura right before it crystallizes.

I quickly light my own horn and sidestep out of the way of the oncoming crystal. It wasn't as if I had been standing still; Umbra was slow in movement, but his magic and eyesight were not. He made up for being virtually unable to move with his towering form and clockwork pace by using magic liberally in a surprisingly futile attempt to mentally overwhelm me. With an opponent like him, I was always moving; it didn't matter that Umbra's lack of a horn restricted his magic - he was old. For an Alicorn, 'old' was a guarantee that they were capable and extremely powerful. If one ever had to fight an Alicorn and didn't have the skill that I had in reading creatures or the ability to sense magic, picking the youngest out of a theoretical line up was one way to attempt to save your worthless ass.

Striking that spot with my deeper red aura, I watched my magic infect the grayish black crystal, veins of red running throughout the surface and cracks and fissures spreading rapidly. Heat poured from beneath the surface as it began to crumble from within, and I felt the air brush my coat. Unlike everything else here, I still held the warmth my body heat, adrenaline, and the outside world marked me with, so this sensation had no effect on me. The air was already alive with bursts of changing magical pressures from our attacks. I moved around too much, with so much force, darting about and leaping - making myself known and showing that I will be the survivor, not him - so that heat was everywhere.

Once the crystalline surface falls away, my signature multi-hued inferno is revealed, burning and roaring as it breaks free from the prison that he thought could trap it. My heart beats faster in exhilaration as I watch, utterly entranced by my more than addictive power, as it engulfs the äerint remains like they were the skeleton of a ship that the crystal ponies of older times would burn their dead in, when mountain crypts had not been thought of. It spirals up hungrily - almost as hungry as my unwavering, wide-eyed stare - and it spirals upward, the spaces between the violent light filled with crooked shadows that cut their way across the now-red world. Blood and the sound of sparks leaping about and falling to the ground like northern snow filled my ears.

I loved this. My expression may be fierce and grim but I love every bit of this. There is almost always glory in revenge and being able to feel this - blood, magic, and know that the look in my eyes is a mad one. In the light of all these sparks and the hellfire spiraling around this place, it's impossible for me to not look mad, to not burn brightly and dwarf the very presence of the inferno that frames me.

This is the moment Umbra lunges for me, when hot air buffets my cloak and the metal at my hooves gleams with wild red power, runes sliding across the metal surface in their frantic dance before bubbling away.

And in that moment, I feel the äerint shift beneath my hooves; I sense his magic forming a spire as he dives for me, thinking he can win. Right then and there, I dissolve in an instant. Crystal erupts from the ground and I can feel the crystalline structure pierce through my body, now a shadow. Senses work differently in this form but something passing through me like that and disrupting the same space my flowing body now occupies is like invisible ice chilling me from the inside out with the sudden icy rush of pouring ice water down somepony's back on a hot day.

Holding my form like this when objects passed through me usually felt like this - a physical obstruction like this wasn't a problem. Umbra was. If he passed through me I could accidentally possess him or lose focus and manifest myself half-formed between shadow equinoid. With no time to move anywhere else, I sank myself into the äerint, burying myself into it as forcefully as possible. The echoes of crystal splitting under pressure sounded somewhere nearby as I shifted my form to accommodate and hold the structure together, bracing myself for Umbra's attack. This position was like if you had one of those dumpster cats and a cardboard box. Put the cat in a box, tape the box shut, and slowly push the box towards a staircase.

That was me right now. Trying to force myself to stay in something solid rather than just warping my form into something similar and holding it with the aid of transformation magics was not a comfortable position. Anchoring myself in a living creature - like a pony or an Alicorn - was different. Everypony and their mind felt different and I could either encourage or outright force any physical alterations that I needed.

I felt Umbra strike the crystal, barreling into it at full speed. I even felt him stumble - likely because the sight of me breaking into a shadow had finally registered to him, since time would feel slower to him.

Keeping myself from slipping out of the reverberating space I had wedged myself into, I unleashed a wave of ominous vibrations - the only vocalizations I could manage in this form without a proper mental link to somepony.

Even if Umbra did manage to translate them to speech he could understand, I doubt he'd be familiar with every profanity and the vast array of non-magical curses I have at my disposal for situations like this.

Going with the shaking of the crystal, I take a few moments to work the interior makeup and extract magic from it before tumbling out and re-manifesting in equinoid form as Umbra's magical presence and mine had distance put between them from the movement.

I feel hooves and metal, mane and cloak, and my fuzzy coat once more. Seconds pass because I allow myself a brief stretch to fool him into thinking that I'm vulnerable. Luring him over to me is no problem at all. I feel his magic shift when he thinks that I can be overpowered from behind as his body shifts into a lunge-

I pivot around faster than he ever guessed I could, using my ability to regulate how much I weigh so that when I kick; I weigh much less in order to give myself the speed I needed to fool him twice. Right before my back leg connects with what I know to be his ugly face my horn glows again and I reverse the effect. Physically, I look no different, but the surprised guttural, spitting hiss from Umbra tells me otherwise. That, and the delightfully sickening crunch that I relish in as I drive my back hooves further into his excuse for a face by grinding the metal soles into it before lighting my horn for a third time to change my weight back to normal and buck him before I lunge forward and whirl around to survey my latest disaster with smug cruelty mixed with contempt showing clearly on my face.

Now that I've let my god magic dim, the dark shades of Niflhel's äerint halls had return. It didn't matter - my fire still burned and I stood out or blended in on a whim, and right now Umbra was not going to ignore me.

My pride swells at the sight of his face. His black mane has spilled forward into his face, and Umbra looks more irritated by this than the fact that I've all but kicked the left side of his face in. The full extent of the damage my strikes did are hidden under his mane, but it isn't as if I haven't inflicted far more gruesome injuries to know exactly what I did.

I doubt that he has anything too recognizable as an eye underneath his mane, which manages to obscure most of the damage. I'm still able to see a bloody mixture running down his face. His muzzle is clearly broken, and he bares his fangs in as much of a snarl he can manage. Broken fragments of what were once some of his teeth sit at his forehooves, and his white coat is spotted with drops of blood. Scratches from metal mark his face, each unintentionally highlighting that his remaining eye has swollen to the point where his hollow gaze is all but erased by the damage.

I shift myself to ready for another attack, horn flaring with light he can no longer see. I'd be a fool to act like he's not dangerous any more. Fighting while visually impaired will be nothing with the ability we have. Will it make up for his lack of sight completely? No, never; but it certainly will allow him to defend himself.

"You," Umbra hisses, his word muffled by a mouthful of blood. "You are going to wish that you were still mortal when I get my hooves on you."

My expression has returned to that of grim fury and I let a low, steady, and unusually soft growl fill the pause. "I've never wished for much of anything, and I'm not about to start."

There isn't a point in trying any further taunts since I've got him right where I want to. Like me, Umbra now starts to display some of the more twisted aspects of his nature. I glower at him and he shivers with anger. The feeling of power radiates from him, pushing outward while both his mane and tail lash aggressively. The äerint coating on his feather tips clink together with his movement. Neither of us can heal ourselves and such a scarring injury - one that, unlike his horn - that could be fixed if either of us had the ability does nothing but anger him further.

Barely a second passes and the äerint glows with dark aura once again. The glow is thickest around the crystal and rapidly begins to spread - and thin - so that his lower half is hidden by a hazy cloud of pure dark magic that dwarfs the ever-present feel of magic that only we could sense.

My response is to let out a scream of everything I've been covering up for centuries and break into shadow, which only makes my enraged cry deafening as the walls shake before I surge forward, flinging myself at him. My eyes burn with bloodlust and focus sharpens my determination and desperation so that I don't have to worry about possessing him, even by mistake.

I don't have to worry about anything at all because when I reform again, my forehooves slam into Umbra and knock him to the ground, stunning him and knocking the wind out of him. The extra force I apply causes something to crack under the gore-coated soles of my boots and I can feel my temper spike at the disappointment of the injury not being as severe as I would have liked.

Before Umbra can even come to his senses I look him in what's left of his face and spit in his face, growling. The sound is low and dangerous - he recognizes this even if he shows no fear. It doesn't matter if he can't see me - he'll hear everything I want him to and feel whatever it is I make him feel.

And I'll get all the sadistic satisfaction in the world from this because-

I rear up, another wordless scream of unbridled fury tearing through my throat as I let so much that I've been holding back show as I bring my forehooves down on his chest again and again and again. I want him to feel all this weight and I can communicate even a tenth of what the Crystal Empire felt like.

Once that's done, my breathes come in heaves of anger and the sound is mixed with repeated low growls that can be heard between each one as I bare my fangs, no longer feeling the need to hide them or tell the small lie of them being an effect of dark magic rather than the true appearance of my teeth.

Umbra attempts to draw a breath, but his attempt only yields a quiet, gurgling wheeze. He twitches as if to rearrange himself. I'm far too fast, catching on to what the creature so revolting that he cannot even cry out in pain thinks I will be unable to notice in my rage. Magic flaring to life once more, I whip out Fate, whose blade gleams with silver in the firelight. Not willing to stop there, I dismantled my my metal boots, reducing them to to the fragments I had used in my duel with Luna. Without my boots, my hooves touch a coat hiding broken bones and mottled with bruises.

It isn't going to be white for much longer.

Umbra makes a choked gasp, surprise - but not pain - actually making its way across his face in an abrupt burst as I drive the makeshift knives into his wings, pinning them out and watching as blood starts to show, mingling a bit with the burns on his lower wings.

For now, with his wings spread away from his horn and hindquarters, magic is beyond him. Drops of molten äerint from my, which still rages on the crystalline walls, land on him and sear holes in his feathers. Fate looms above him; both are my inferior, but the former was named for things like this. I bring it down once, lost in the lucidity I have from marveling in what I was literally made for.

"THIS IS FOR ALL THOSE YOU'VE KILLED!"

I remain unflinching as a wave blood spatter, warm and familiar, lands on me. How could I? All this - blood running on crystalline floors in some foreign and unforgiving place - would have been nostalgic had I favored the conditions the first time around and enjoyed all the horrible things that I had done.

Without hesitation, I poise Fate for a second strike, the wonderful rush of all my wrath spreading running through me as my innermost thoughts rearranged themselves so that all they did was egg me on, urging me to do more and more. That too, isn't an entirely unfamiliar sensation. Two differences might be in that I am willing to carry out this and that the voice that screams for more is mine alone.

"THIS IS FOR EVERY EMPIRE YOU TOPPLED!"

Fate finds its way into Umbra's flesh again. He may be divine but one wrong strike might end my vengeance far sooner than I would like. His heart and head - the latter especially - are to be avoided for as long as possible if I'm going to draw this out for as long as I'd like. Unlike every other Alicorn I've encountered, he doesn't feel.

For somepony who fights, both physically and magically as much as I do, I rarely exert myself and haven't pushed my limits since teleporting from the desert to Canterlot while keeping myself alive, before immortality, before godhood, before all this...

But now I will. There are few lines I won't cross in expending power and pushing myself to do as I will here.

"AND THIS IS FOR EVERY GOD YOU BROKE!"

I bring down Fate in a rapid succession, too angry to note each strike, but I feel myself count them for later. My throat burns with each word, but I do not thirst. I feel like I'm on fire with power; I am magic. I am not power, because I am beyond it.

I feel myself burning, screaming back at him, but there's no words in my rage. Sweat runs down my forehead and mixes with the gore that has practically blanketed my front, leaving only my eyes and teeth to stand out against the mess that blots out the black of my mane and gray of my coat. Beneath my hooves, I feel a wet mush that could never be mud as I stand upon Umbra and simply don't stop my rampage.

I just keep going. Sometimes there's nothing to say, just everything to show and I don't even to egg myself onward but my voice - the sound of my voice telling me all these things, reminding me of every horrible deed I can do and have done in what could have been a sick practice for all this... it just doesn't stop.

I don't want it to.

I can't bear to will it to.

I'm screaming, and sometimes it sounds as if I'm being the one hurt with each strike.

But this is foul healing more than everything else.

It's taken so long.

I've always wanted revenge for something at nearly every point in time. Luna wants revenge too. I've also sought love, where she's only recently pursued it - with me. I couldn't pick just one. I love revenge and my acts of love towards Luna - utterly sincere and caring in every way - are also their own kind of revenge. Against Onyx. Against Umbra. Against being a weapon. A demon. A monster. Against anything and everything I want.

In this lucid state where I continue to bury Fate in every bit of Umbra in front of me, I can feel sweat in my mane and blood on my coat and cloak, anchoring my mind here - not that I've ever wanted, or even when I wanted to, had the ability to leave these situations before - and for the first time since all this has ever happened.

Since Mac kept my secret, and in doing so became more than my friend.

Since Luna brought me happiness and loved me back.

Since my Luna - with her mysterious forgiveness and a chance that was purely serendipity that none of us could have anticipated - sent me to the void with the aid of her sister and I was able to put so much back together and plan everything, thus escaping the downward spiral that had been my life in that cold, isolated, and utterly uplifting darkness.

Since I took that first step into everything and for an entire year, walked through the snow.

I hear myself laughing like I haven't in centuries. I've never been innocent since the second before everything, but even then I wasn't able to laugh, nor did I have knowledge of enough to be giddy at anything. I did laugh before the Crystal Empire. I laughed when I was alone and how, if I lay on my back with my stomach toward the sky when it snowed, it looked like the stars were falling and that I lay in a pile of them, their icy coolness prickling my coat. Tartarus' flames, sometimes I'd even giggle. After all, I was fourteen years old and even if I never had the luxury or understanding of numerous traits of the children of any species, there was a quiet grasp of fun about me, and on rare occasions I did find myself laughing alone in the snow. 

Those times made it feel like everything that was going to go wrong later could at least wait a little while longer. While I've never considered those memories particularly dear to me, I know that they're significant. And yet, I don't feel surprised at all when I'm laughing like that again - Luna has slowly gotten me to laugh again, but it's still not quite the same - in the middle of all this. I no longer sound the same - but I'd recognize the sound of my own voice, however changed it is, anywhere.

Levitating the soaked blade of Fate, whose crystal veins drip with the blood of the magic-born, above the mangled and mutilated form of Umbra, who shakes with every attempt to draw breath.

This is for his worst crime of all.

"THIS IS FOR CREATING ME!"

I bring down Fate again, striking anywhere and everywhere I see, avenging just a bit of everything I had to go endure to bring me here, to see Luna again, and to just live. Sweat pours down my face, but I've never felt more powerful in my life.

Once I have both allowed and managed to reign my temper in a bit, I glower at the barely-breathing mass of what was once Umbra and the wings that I left intact, now as blood-drenched as I was, feathers liberally covered in the stuff. The only sound is my heaving breaths, but that doesn't mean there isn't much to see - everything I see is through a cloak of aura that flows around me like a crimson flame, bathing my body in the same power that still glows on my horn, but that flare is lost in the rune-studded energy around me that ripples and flows across every part of me.

I look like the coal in the heart of a flame, my eyes the embers. Only the strange runes that fade quickly, hiding in the folds of magic somewhere between transparent and translucent, betray its true nature. I am magic, at my core, and that makes me extremely different from a pony, though I may be equine our origins differ spectacularly. They can have surges when they use too much magic, but it can also stop their heart and do other things. I have had surges of my own; they're the hallmark of developing magic, particularly magical talent, so of course I had them - but none have ever been quite like this, with so much emotion and power running rampant through me that I feel feverish.

But never in my life have I 'sweat' so much excess magic in order to stabilize myself that I've ended up cloaked my own power. The exhilaration I got from this was nearly unbelievable as my magic, emotion, and mental strength fed into one another almost endlessly.

Are you finished? Umbra's disembodied voice asked, no longer coming from a physical form that couldn't speak, but from the dim glow of dark magic clinging to his bound feather tips. The small workings of magic projected his voice outward from a body too broken to manage any vocalizations anymore.

The disembodied and impersonal chill that this state exemplified suited him far too well for my liking.

"Never," I growl, ripping out each bit of metal inserted into his wings as slowly and painfully as I knew how to, tearing flesh and breaking feathers purposely with each one I withdrew, assembling them into boots once more as my magic continued to engulf me.

"You and I both know that the two of us are beings of power and ambition. There is nothing you won't do to get what you want, no matter how badly you'll lose to me."

...And do you think that you can simply refuse everything?

"I think whatever I want, and if I want something, I'll scheme to obtain it. If you think much of anything could deter me from my goals, you couldn't be more wrong, Umbra. After all..."

Teleporting myself away from his body to prepare for whatever came next, I did a quick survey of my surroundings as soon as I wiped the some of the gore from my eyes, horn still flared and divine aura from my surge still shaking with anger that had yet to be expressed. The shadows of the chamber trembled in the firelight.

"...We could do this forever."



...



My inferno melted too much of the crystals jutting from the ceiling and crowning the empty space looming above me that it had caused large portions to become unstable and large portions, still blazing with magic red fire, to fall to the ground. I was able to dodge them easily, teleporting and darting between the rubble falling despite essentially being a beacon of crimson power. Umbra managed to escape any damage other than burn marks, his ability to sense magic and the fact that his sense of hearing was second the most intact of the six were the only things that kept him from being pinned beneath the äerint.

I glared at him from where I stood across from him, smoldering äerint rubble the only thing separating us. He knew where I was and that my focus and my steadily burning, immense power was only concentrated in what could only be my location.

He spread his broken wings and lept after me. In vain attempts to soar, he tried to maneuver his towering form over the burning crystalline obstacles that blocked his path, no matter how horrible the condition of his body was. His wings were no longer able to lift him and the left could barely move and only hung limply when he wasn't putting all his effort into trying to get the äerint-coated feathers to angle themselves properly. I wasn't even sure if he had flown in all the centuries he'd been here; part of me doubted he had quit entirely until enough time had passed that his thoughts turned to indulging in the tortures of those he had trapped here and nothing more.

However, I wasn't going to stick around to find out as this horrifying sight barreled toward me. I came here for more than one reason, and I wasn't going to get a chance to look for any potentially unbroken Alicorns if I wasn't able to immobilize him for a longer amount of time.

He was bulky, barely able to move except in exaggerated and awkward limps, had less control of himself, and led me somewhere where he thought I could be overpowered in the open and would be belligerent enough to continuously assault him without bothering to plan anything. Umbra only thought me a crude and faulty mistake that wouldn't be able to make any remotely successful attempt to overpower him and let my temper get in the way of every decision that I make.

He couldn't be more wrong.

The reason I'm here now and I've survived so much isn't because I've tossed intelligence to the wind once I had enough power that I felt I could get whatever I desired easily, but because I'm stubborn, prideful, and willingly to defy and outsmart whoever it is that thinks that they can take anything or anypony from me. The conditions I've had to pull myself through can be described as 'abysmal' at best, but even when I was at my most powerless, I always sought every little victory I could through sheer arrogance, knowledge, and a bit of luck.

As the excess magic cloaking me began to dim and fall, I felt my stomach drop with it and the start of fatigue begin to wash over me. This wasn't as bad as it would be for most other creatures - I was used to feeling drained - but in this fight? I would be needing power and excess. There was no way in Tartarus I was going to push beyond any limits I might be nearing by expending even more power for short term gain. It's about who wins the war, not who triumphs in the battle. 

So I ran, galloping at full speed down the nearest hallway I could find before Umbra could get too close. I needed him to think that with my magic dropping and my sudden mad dash for an 'escape' that I was weaker than I appeared; it is what he's been thinking about me up until I displayed any sign of divinity.



...



Niflhel's halls were expansive. Crooked corridors turned every way that a hallway possibly could. Some even looked as though they had been blasted into the crystallized, both recently and long ago. I didn't exactly stop to check latent magic traces - they were just that; traces, which meant I would be no closer to any Alicorns by following them.

My hooves take long strides, striking the crystalline ground and causing sparks to fly backward, sizzling as they made contact with the cold äerint. Growling, I lit my horn and turned my gaze to the rapidly changing corridors again while minding the sensation of trembling beneath my hooves. I had lived long enough in deathly quiet places like this to tell the rippling vibrations of both hoofsteps and other kinds of movement. While I was in no way bothered by being able to feel the shifting hallways in the distance, Umbra's hoofsteps were alarming. Quickly reducing my weight to allow myself to run at higher speeds, the sound of metal scraping crystal growing louder with each stride. My breathing was not labored, but even I knew the signs that I couldn't run forever and that this was not an endless world.

Perhaps it was because I had come skidding to a stop in a dead end, pulling back just enough so that my face didn't meet the cold surface that fragmented my reflection even more than my sweat-drenched mane did when it hung in my eyes.

And I backed right into an obstruction that wasn't there before. Fate rustled in its sheath as I sucked in a deep breath, unable to mask the sensation of creeping horror. A breathing, solid obstruction that still ran with blood and felt like shredded flesh that sent my heart racing and my mind rampaging with whatever I could possibly do because...

Hello, Sombra, said the hollow voice creeping on the crystal surface of the dead end hallway.

...Now there's nowhere left to run.



...



Umbra lowers what's left of his wings to the ground. The äerint that encases his feathers like amber still glows with aura that pulsates aggressively, and I feel my heartbeat quicken. Reading the magic with the considerable amount of focus I can muster in situations like these confirms that while it isn't going to form any kind of spell for attacking me - but it is aimed at me. He wants me to try and run, to distract me from any attempt at getting my thoughts together, and it's not going to work.

Damn if he isn't creepy either way. I watch our dim reflections in the äerint wall and the unmistakable snarl that the remains of Umbra's teeth are bared in, while I stand in front of him - and in his shadow - with a few smears of his blood on the rear of my cloak and liberal amounts of gore all over the front of me and in my my mane. Through it, how pale I look is on full display; I make no attempt to hide my fear, only control it.

Tearing my intense, horrified gaze away from that of my reflection is almost impossible. I needed to focus on something, to rein in my breathing just a bit more as I felt his magic creep up me. I didn't even try to refrain from shuddering, and he flashed me that same disturbing leer again - the one that sent chills down my spine - and his feather tips glowed more furiously.

Knowing I could read the spell, he only smiled wider when he caught my eyes continue to fixate on my reflected self, using the distorted image of he and I to watch as the crudely formed walls began to inch toward me... and it was no illusion. The ground beneath my hooves shook with them and each second that passed was another few inches closer to closing the both of us into the dead end.

Well, Little Shadow, are you going to attempt to escape me again? Or will you submit to your destiny and perish here - endlessly?

Despite my fear, a confident, rude laugh burst from me, my rough tone drowning out the noise of the walls while my legs still shook. "Destiny? Perhaps there's something like it, sure. And though it's weak, even if such a concept were strong here, I'd am and will always be above it. After all, wasn't it you who decided to call me Destiny's Bastard?"

My arrogance and honesty displeases Umbra and he lets out a low, gurgling hiss. I feel more blood spatter find its way onto my cloak and saw myself twitch slightly before stoicism returned. And then I laughed, as defiant as ever, so I laguhed with a demon-may-care flair. I laughed to the reflected face of the world-eater who thought he could defeat me just because he toppled empires, distorted land, and broke gods.

It surprised him, and I thought of the memory of his hollow eyes with their slit pupils that were cold at their most merciful widening. Instead all I caught was a gasp and a blood-filled cough.

The walls closed in faster and I darted away, whirling around to face him, and though I felt a twinge of sourness at having to relinquish my vanity, I faced him with desperation turned to determination and all the stubbornness one could imagine and more. I glowered at him, carrying myself as the god I was and one could look at me then and say that I looked like a king if they were a damned fool. I'm no king, and even if I'm a god, there's still something better than that.

I'm Sombra.

A growl sounded in my throat but I quelled it and stared through every part of him instead with a silent look of contempt on my face as I surveyed the grotesque form of Umbra. "What's surprising about you, Umber-"

Umbra, he interrupts rudely, umber is a color.

"And you're about as much use to me as the damned color," I snap, "but you're right about there being only one demon-"

Shadow-

"SHUT UP! IF I WANT TO SLANDER MY OWN SPECIES, I WILL!" I roar.

Silence lasts for a split second before I bump myself back to center stage again. 

"And that demon will be me, Sombra, because if you think that a fool like you can end any of this - and mess with me and get away with it, you couldn't be more wrong. You can end billions of lives, destroy entire landscapes, end civilizations, and break gods but if you think that you can actually fuck with me and end up as the victor - especially when you look like you've been through eight meat grinders - then you couldn't have been more wrong."

He tilts his head and the last bit of his left ear falls to the ground. I can't exactly say that I'm surprised since there's plenty of Umber to scrape up the floor elsewhere.

You spoke as if you had interest in the gods - the Alicorns - and yet you dismiss them as well as the surprising amount of caution you displayed to the wind so easily. What makes you think arrogance can win? Do you think I have not seen it before? That you are unbreakable?

My irises flash crimson again, and the world with it. "I know I'm unbreakable, and if you think I can lose then you're among the greatest fools I've come across," I snarl.

Heart pounding wildly and magic still not the best, I don't bother with any showy displays as I stand steadfast and glare him down, completely undaunted.

He bares his remaining teeth - which I loathe to say, are still quite numerous - at me, dripping with blood, saliva, and all sorts of things that remind of the surprising amount of lethal uses a toothbrush has and only give me further reason to want be the sole survivor of my own species. But I certainly cannot say that the gesture - or rather, the thought of what teeth like that can do - is at least somewhat unnerving as the walls close in around me, narrowing my chance of escape bit by bit-

Just like a castle, so far away, surrounded by a ring of mountains; and somehow - somehow despite it all - those walls and mortal folly and everything and anything-

Just everything, everything that makes me gasp for this breath in this moment-

The Crystal Empire-

I look up with as much self-control as I can muster and focus as much as I can on whatever isn't a memory from that damnable time: him.

Umber is smiling, truly smiling because he saw something he liked... he caught a glimpse of panics, cracks, half-thoughts and-

So, Sombra ,the pesky and disgustingly individualistic and arrogant knowledge-seeker, would you like to know what happened to the high queen, Lumina Galaxia?

Before I can even think to reply, Umbra lunges.



...



Pain tears through me with each mad scramble I make, my armored hooves pounding the crystalline ground in a mad stumble while my lungs burn with each choked and heaving breath. It feels like my heart is trying to force its way up my throat. I know that can't actually happen, but right now all that matters is that I keep running and I do everything to force myself to gallop faster even though each stride in my abnormal gait only makes it easier to feel flesh tearing.

I don't turn around. I don't cast any magic. I don't look anywhere, I just gallop forward as fear and pain grips me and my sides ache. Fate jangles in its sheath, which is still strapped to my left side despite what happened. Every time I flinch at something that lurks in the left side of my vision, I keep forcing myself to go faster yet again no matter how feverish I feel. A cold sweat runs down my gore matted coat as I try to head anywhere far away from him...

Blood runs down the left side of my hindquarters where he-

I shiver wildly at the thought and keep going, knowing I have a more than generous head start thanks to my surge after he-

I can still feel his teeth drawing blood and-

My heart leaps in my chest, but I resist the urge to cry out for now, and gasp instead as I keep going, but it's hard to hear the distinction in between my heaves.

I can feel them buried in me, tearing farther in with each stride-

I only focus on going faster and dashing through each and every hall. He'll be able to trace my magic. While the thought of being trapped again is terrifying - my legs are still shaking as I run, forcing myself not to limp along as I let my wound worsen for the sake of self preservation -  I let my wide-eyed and lucid stare pick out halls that will be too difficult for him to travel easily, altering äerint where I can to make my progression easier and his far more difficult.

I can still smell his flesh burning... and it had already been so raw. First there was the familiar divine aura, filled with runes slipping over me, and then fire-

My thoughts cease again and I shift all focus to the deafening noise of my heartbeat and the dryness in my throat that makes even gasping difficult as my mind tries not to-

Lumina... He... I thought I'd never have to know-

My legs give out beneath me and I let them. At this point, where my thoughts race so far ahead of me and return in fragments that I don't dare try to recollect, hoping that the painful hammering of my heart will at least be a somewhat capable distraction. An ache grows in my head alongside terror that I haven't known since the Crystal Empire.

It really isn't working. 

Sides heaving with each and every breath as ragged and broken as the flesh of my hindquarters, I let my head fall to the floor, unable to hold it up. Breathing is painful and comes out in coughs at best - terrible, dry coughs that rack my limp form as I lay with my right side to the cold ground. My cloak is plastered to my side with warm blood that runs down my side in rivulets that itch once they flow and leave the rest of me feeling almost cold as the warm liquid runs down my gray coat and onto my boots. Some of it is on the ground, too but it isn't like I had time to clean up a trail.

How much have I lost?

...Enough for the part of the fabric that wasn't torn to be plastered to my torn flesh with an uncomfortable and slick seal of blood...

Gasping and coughing, I managed to pull my head up just enough to lean to one side, the black dots in my vision dancing as I kept my swimming head steady enough to avoid throwing up on myself. Reeling at the rancid, warm, and vile mix that forced its way up my throat, I turned what fading attention I had left away from the sharp smell of the bile, whose foul taste still stings my throat and lit my horn, relieved to know that I could still focus enough magic to withdraw Fate from its sheath and grasp the hilt in my aura.

Tearing away my blood-slick cloak had to be done with my magic as well, since I would have toppled over, lost focus, and dropped Fate if I had done so with my hooves in the condition that I was in. Unable to muster a true gasp, I let out something between a whimper and an exhale at the sight of my hindquarters.

It isn't that I hadn't seen things worse than this before, and I knew the injury was going to be horrific... but this was me! This was going to leave a scar... a scar on me. Honestly, this looked even more painful than it felt, which was certainly saying something!

His teeth had done damage that made my stomach churn and magic waver, and then flare suddenly, causing the crimson grip on Fate's hilt to shake.

I thought that when I reconstructed myself, there wouldn't be any more scars. Now I'll have to wait until I get blown up again to erase something like this...

I admit, this is mostly a matter of vanity. I also didn't want to risk an infection and all the running I did had only driven the teeth that had broken off when I had struggled, kicked, and spat in the remainder of his eye, screaming in fury and pain. Now, those teeth were buried far deeper in me then they had initially been.

And he was searching for me... to say that he wouldn't find me was impossible - he would, but it was just a matter of when. I couldn't control the former, but the latter? It just might be fair game. This particular hallway was just an empty, dead end route alright. I couldn't stay here forever, and I wouldn't.

Niflhel, like me, was far more than meets the eye. Yes, it may be crudely made for a magical otherworld and I did find it to not be a very favorable aesthetic, since he had three thousand years to design this place and still thought 'just crystallize shit' was a good approach. But, just because you make a shitty looking and eldritch deathtrap of a pocket dimension doesn't mean there can't be other features.

The reason Umbra wants to lure any major threats here is because most of his power is drawn from this place. Since äerint is dark magic aura that flows so wildly it crystallizes easily, it means that power can be drawn from it. I was able to lay out very large enchantments over a distance in the Crystal Empire because of this as well as amplify my magic senses to some degree... of course, I was also unaware of this at the time and with many other factors like this one, the latter ended up contributing to the episodes of psychosis I had has a youth and worsening those ones, which I had alongside my natural episodes.

That wasn't what interested me. No, it was that this äerint housed magical prisons built from dark magic and pocket dimensions... all sorts of fun things for me that were difficult to sense unless I ran blindly and began to collect bits and pieces of the magical signatures forming them - again, a gross oversimplification on my part but... Damn him, my head!

I was laying on top of one. I was in no condition to go much of anywhere, but I was laying on top of a prison housing an Alicorn of unknown mental soundness that I could break into, with great difficulty. The whole goal of this thing would be to keep the one inside from using magic, and while there would be no way around that for the Alicorn inside - over the rainbow or not, they'll be drastically weakened magically - as a demon and a god, as well as one of the few magical geniuses the world had left - as well as a knack for breaking and entering, of course -  I might as well have been given a key.

I wasn't ready to go in just yet. My physical condition was a poor one and needed to be improved somewhat to try what I was thinking, as well as improve my mental condition in any way possible during the long run. Infections from his disgusting bite had to be avoided at all costs...

Letting out a ragged breath that seemed far too loud for the silence of the towering hallway, I poised Fate over my wounded flank and focused my fogging mind as much as possible. Gritting my teeth, I clenched my jaw and drew a thin, shaky breath as my vision swam in the dim place where the walls stretched so far above me, looming like a threat all their own.

Then I plunged Fate into my flesh and scream.
> Chapter 45: Narcissism Conquers All
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Sombra:


I levitated the king's helm in my magic, the crimson aura, like my gaze, completely unwavering as I let the foreign, dead thing bob in my magic. He said it was worth more than my life.

It was a lie, of course.

But my haggard stare continued to observe myself in the large crystal mirror - it could have also just been a particularly shiny, smooth wall; I didn't really care - that hung in the hall. Crimson eyes were the only light in the shadowy and darkened hallways where I had been lurking in the week since Onyx murdered Opal Charm and the Empire fell, the powerful heart these ponies treasured was hidden in a temporary location. He said I was going to make a better one. The skies turned gray with the gathering clouds when it had vanished. I barely glimpsed them, having only been myself in the darker hours now... but...

Why are you just staring at yourself like that?

Opal Charm haunted me, I swear it, but when Onyx was my only company I can't say she - the silent flicker lurking in the edges of my sleepless vision, among other places - was the less desirable of the two. Though I wanted no company and hated ponies, if I had to know torment, I think she'd be the kinder. After all, she only wants to tear me apart.

But Onyx...

I find myself to be incredibly attractive, I replied silently, forcing my thoughts elsewhere. I had already had enough of my voice bouncing off the crystalline surface of everything in the palace, where I was weighed down with all that was yet to be and gradually sealed away from the world with the encroaching äerint that would soon spread out to the rest of the empire as I continued to work my magic.

Every passing day hurt even more. I never slept. The ticking of the clocks was always too loud.

I couldn't even read the clocks.

I destroyed all the clocks three days ago.

I still hear them.

You aren't, Onyx snapped, his tone testy. If you think the long mane is going to stay the way it is to, you're stupider than I thought, stupid book voice-

My name is-

Shut up! You're mine and I can call you whatever I want because that's fair! His shrill tone rung in my skull. There wasn't any way to make it 'better' either. If I drank enough of the stuff in the castle cellars - wines and another name I don't recall - no matter how much it burned my throat or how angry and ill it made me, I could dull it for a while.

It was hard to stop drinking that stuff too... once one bottle was I gone, I wanted - or maybe needed? - another...

...and another, until it all didn't matter anymore...

...or maybe something did?

"I'm not yours," I growl through the fangs he flaunts - my fangs, my must-be-hidden monster teeth. I didn't intend to say anything, not out loud. I treasure the sound of my voice and my words - the former is so ill-suited for him that every time I open my mouth is defiance, defiance, defiance... and I like it.

Just because Onyx is wrong, doesn't mean that he has no power - he has far too much of it. Even now, I feel him slithering in my mind. Part of me is too used to the feeling for my own good and suppresses every shiver and thinks of better things - lonely mountains, deserted glades, and shelves of books spilled in a fight, the words on their pages completely unreadable to me...

The other part, the hidden part of me - like all the world just below the snow - is more terrified than any living being should ever be, not because I scream out at what I must endure, but because I can't.

He looms somewhere within me, prowling around my own mind and using my voice, face, and body - the body of a fifteen year old colt with hot coal eyes and a long, wild mane that I would never, ever let get tangled and dirty. My body is draped with an uncomfortably smooth fabric of scarlet that clings to my fluffy all-winter coat from the year in the snow, white fake-fur rubbing against my own coat and still youthful body in ways I find obnoxious.

He says that I'll grow into it, and that kings are supposed to dress like this. This means having my bare legs stick out from a wave of too-bright red and wearing impractical, cold things like I'm begging to die. I want practical. I want messy. I want my things back, thick rags that were mine and fit me. Those meant something, but they were never mine. Nothing is, and he'll always tell me that. It's one of the few things that isn't a lie. Nothing is mine, but I am and will be.

"My mane stays the way it is," I snap, letting a growl slip too.

Pain flares at the base of my horn and races down my spine, spreading outward in a few agonizing seconds. The hostile wave of half-magic shooting through me is raw and sloppy, invisible, of course, but effective - and I am unable to counter it. I stifle all but the beginnings of a scream out of surprise rather than pain; this particular torment is so basic and familiar to me that it's almost merciful.

Oooh, I think I'm getting better! I can do this to other ponies, right?

I didn't bother to humor him with an answer, instead I grit my teeth and braced myself for whatever abuse came next. I felt the slithering of a terrifying magic-less pony swimming about on the edge of my mind, as though there were something like a wall between us - a wall he loved to kick and chip at, if it were a wall at all.

Ugh, fine. You're supposed to be a voice, and now that I'm a king you're supposed to do whatever I make you. If you're going to be quiet and dumb as always, that's absolutely fine! You aren't the king, and you know it. You'll never have this power. But...

Spill it. I gritted my teeth and almost dropped his precious crown, and my pride swells at the thought of breaking it. Now.

Ponies don't growl.

He always goes on about things like this...

And I know you're only a stupid voice, but you're a pony voice in a pony body, and that body is mine, which means that I don't even need a reason to hurt you. And that's almost a shame, because this time, I have so many reasons to. Ponies don't growl, Sombra, and every time you growl at me...

Agony washes over me again as his presence forces its way into my mind and nerves-

The magic on my horn dies forcefully and painfully. I make a choked noise; he has begun to purposely 'forget' that I need air too with each time he does this because my strangled cries please him.

And then he smashes my head onto the mirror-wall. Screaming at the suddenness of the impact - which I do - would normally prove to be very distracting, but I know that things will be far worse if I don't save the crown. Onyx used anything as an excuse to hurt me. When I showed a knack for working with fabric, he made me sew a little here and work my magic a little there to get a cape. The thread was horrible at first; he brought my face inches from a fire for that. After a dozen tries of both oddly intriguing labor and working my magic the best I could, I managed to make a nice hooded cloak the color of my eyes. It was clean and practical and everything!

He taught me that my bite could be enhanced with magic and forced me to test it out on myself for not getting us - him - something 'royal' enough. After all, what hurts me doesn't hurt him; he's just a second soul, and his senses are... optional? That is the best way I can think to describe it. This meant that he can hurt me as much as he wants and feel nothing. Which brings us to here, where a broken crown forged in magic that felt like anything but mine cannot lie broken.

Once again, I must save a life that isn't mine and forge a legacy that belongs to another.

Gripping the crown in my magic again, I pull the spiky piece of superficial pony status close to me, ignoring the small cuts the metal makes in my neck while Onyx slammed my head into the wall again; I counted three more times between the echoes of his laughter ringing in my ears, a sound that only I could hear.

Are you going to growl again?

I clutch my throbbing head in response and swallow a hiss of pain, telling myself this can be just like when I drink, this can be worked through. That's what I have to tell myself. It's like a bloody hangover, and maybe for five seconds I can pretend it doesn't talk and that his shrill laughter isn't tearing up my ears...

But I can't.

"I guess I won't," I manage through my gritted teeth and clenched jaw. Not today, I add silently, to none other than myself.

Aww, you're starting to obey me? Too bad that's not going to make you any safer. Do you even know what that means? 'Safe'?

Should I? I reply with all the earnestness I have in me right now. I feel too dizzy and sore to glare at him - like somepony dropped a snowdrift on my head.

Everything is such a challenge with you! There's his usual whiny tone again.

My mane stays.

Oddly enough, he was quiet for a moment, and I was too, both to wait, savor the brevity of it, and start my own silent schemes.

I think I might actually let you keep your long mane...

Is it because I'm young? Or just more desperate than usual? Is that why I feel curiosity and dangerous hope stir, even if it's just a little?

"Really?" Something like this is far too ridiculous not to go unspoken; he always hates it when I verbalize against him rather than just keeping everything as a mental battle between the two of us. "You'll give me permission to wear my mane at the length that I want? That's rich."

Kings don't have stupid manes like you, they're really fancy, like, all the time, so that means we need to look fancy.

"We?" I jeer.

Me! Me! Onyx shrieks. I'm the king, I told that Opal bitch as I killed her that I was the king, and this empire is finally mine. Just like you! This makes me the king. And yes, of course I'm telling you that - I can order you to do whatever I want 'cause you're barely real. Now do you want to know how to keep your mane or not.

The thought of a manecut is actually a rather dreadful one, and this is coming from the pony who spent the last few days killing the remainder of the Crystal Militia. He's not the most reliable source for anything, but he was delighted enough with any bit of blood. He was nearly giddy with what I did to spill how those armored ponies that should have fought for their life were the amazingly small protective force that this empire had. I still don't understand why they faltered the way they did. From what I could gather, they were like the guard of the Tribes, and they did indeed have a small division just for protecting whatever largely defenseless idiot was wearing the crown. I still don't know why they didn't fight back, and how they acted like there was something so shocking about being overpowered and ended so easily when they did nothing to prevent it.

"Humor me," I mumble, pulling the crown closer to myself and ignoring the thin traces of blood Onyx's ridiculous design makes in my skin. Going off any description of his without taking liberties is an assured disaster; I can't exactly be expected to go off of 'spiky, black, red, dark, and like a helmet' alone when creating an object of magic alone, now can I?

While awaiting his reply, I decide to numb where the crown pricks me by attempting to only partially shift part of myself to shadow. My cape-covered wither immediately grows colder than a three day old corpse and I feel metal sink into my being, but there's little annoyance from cuts and scrapes now.

You have to answer this question that's been on my mind.

"Yes, you're stupid. It's really quite obvious. Now what?"

I feel Onyx shift with strong irritation, stirring up a brief headache.

Who are the most important ponies?

That's odd for him to ask, but I almost promised that I was going to humor him, so it's worth a shot.

"I'm the most important pony," I tell Onyx and the cold halls of the castle. The answer to this question is so obvious that it's almost tragic. 

No, you idiot! Ponies! Real ponies! You aren't a pony! Who are the most important ponies!

"There aren't any!" I snap. "Nopony is important, aside from myself. But... I guess if somepony did want to be important, then they'd have to make themselves-"

Shut up, you stupid, emotionless, rambling voice! I asked you which ponies are important, and you can't give me one answer that isn't some idiot crazy-talk.

"If you think I'm such an idiot," I hiss, voice low and lethal, "then why would you keep asking me for damned answers to your vague questions?!"

Stop telling me what to do! he shrilled. Uhh... dangerous. There. Who are the most dangerous ponies?

I force myself not to growl at his idiocy and knack for asking such obvious questions before shifting into an upward sitting position. My good right eye surveys my reflection with a hostile glare and a scowl, which I find to have some charm to it, since everything else here is so... pony-like and readable. It's nice to have something complex on my mind and rare moments to think to myself.

My scowl almost lifts upward into this awkward and bizarre expression, so I force the left side of my mouth into an even grumpier scowl, so familiar and comfortable... even if that last word is a stretch - a joke - to me.

"Dangerous? Ponies?" I roll my eyes and can't resist a scoffing noise. "Ponies aren't the slightest bit dangerous, especially in the stupid masses that they all live in. If you wanted one that was dangerous, it would have to be somepony... hmm... Ponies aren't dangerous at all, so that's what's a bit tricky-"

I didn't ask that, you stupid bastard! Gimme what I want, it's not like we have all day!

I wince slightly as his voice cracks on the last shriek, gritting my teeth again and making my contempt as undisguised as possible. "I WOULD IF YOU COULD WAIT A MOMENT!"

My scream has him quiet - for once.

"Qualities are what makes things dangerous; not specific marks of rank. Your Crystal Militia fell quite easily, and it was supposed to be their job to fight, wasn't it?" The question was only half-rhetorical. I still hadn't delved into every memory of his and analyzed each thoroughly, so certain pony concepts still weren't completely memorized and understood by me yet, and Onyx gave me all the more trouble for it.

He's still silent, and I use the excuse to boast of what has become one of my favorite pony sayings - I love to hate the wicked little paradox - 'common knowledge'. As foolhardy as Onyx is, even he knows some things - most wholly unimportant - but things like reading...

I conceal a sigh expertly before speaking again. "Intelligence, arrogance, stupidity, eccentricity, and any form of strangeness or nonconformity. Honesty is dangerous too."

I wait for his latest round of insults and annoying remarks by busying myself with standing up and brushing myself off, which is a fading leftover habit from being covered in debris from my time in the wilds.

So... smart ponies are dangerous? The amount of thought that must have went into coming to that conclusion after our latest screaming match would be immense for Onyx. For me, it would be like wondering what the weather would be like.

"Yes," I say, tone as moody as ever while I concentrate on undoing my partial shadow-shift, which is harder than it sounds. The blasted crown sits around one raised foreleg like an ill-fitting version of the smaller bangles I usually see there. "Yet stupid ponies can be fairly dangerous too, seeing as your society is built on the idea of stupid ponies coming together to-"

Says the one who can't read! I mean, wow, the guy who can't read and is just a silly voice that picks nonsense words for his name. Ponies are just ponies. There's ponies that just... live... and do normal things, before somepony kills them or hurts them or- Oh... there's also ponies like you and Starswirl-

My grip on the crown tightens. "I'M NOTHING LIKE HIM!"

Why are you yelling? It's not like you can hurt me! I'm the king, and nopony hurts kings! Ponies like you and him just talk and talk and act like there's something... I dunno-

"You don't even have a bloody clue to what you're saying and you do nothing but call me unintelligent and retarded - which last time I checked, are just repeats of the things that Starswirl said to-"

Shut up! You're not listening to me!

I stomp a hoof and continue to meet my own gaze, magic starting to flare in my eyes. "WHY WOULD I?!"

Ponies like you are the worst! You do all these different things and aren't simple. Argh, you're so sure that you're... that you're s-something, like it'd kill y-you to just-

Onyx cuts himself off once he caught himself stuttering and seizes as much control of my body as possible, with one brutal wave of agony trying to flip the inside of my equinoid form around and around, like he doesn't care that it feels like he's trying to rip me apart by undoing some invisible seams even if this - my own body - is what he's so possessive over.

I scream and fall forward, crashing into the glossy, well-polished wall and listen to myself cry out - the voice I love, now in so much pain - until even the sound of it echoing in the halls are just a lingering memory. In the mirror, not much can be seen except for the dull shine of crystal in shadow. Night is beginning, the only hours I'll have to myself. But I'll be spending them lying here, immobilized by pain as fresh as it was when Onyx inflicted it.

Breathing came in small coughs, but I couldn't muster the energy to pull myself into a ball or focus on magic - on anything other than how much this hurt... and how used to it I was.

In the haze of this, I almost managed a syllable of something. It came in the form of a partial exhale.

Shifting to shadow would be impossible without a steady focus.

All I could manage between the alternating fogginess and lucidity was staring at myself in the uncorrupted crystal that had been my mirror. It was cracked now; the crown had bounced off it, and lay nearby.

My expression was that of deprivation - of sleep, most obviously, but if there's anything else, how was I supposed to know? The color of my eyes still managed to be bright in the darkness, burning away the barrier of shattered surfaces to ask me everything that made up all this weight and the blade's edge I couldn't escape or the array of horrors that had been and will be - everyday torments that drove me to down the drinks that burned both my throat and mind.

Nearby, the crown was angled close to my head so it almost looked like I was wearing it. Thankfully, the helm was unbroken. Onyx may have been lenient with me this time, but if something had happened to that...

The bare crystal floor as cold as Arctic winds drained any warmth I had, preserving each ache, even if it burned instead of chilled and unable to do much else, I lay there while it seeped into me, looking at eyes that burned like nothing in this cold empire did. Even fire didn't match them.

In a sudden moment of lucidity, brought by a beam of bright moonlight from a nearby window reflecting onto my face, I thought only to slip into shadow and rest in the cold solidness of the walls until morning would come and Onyx would think of a post-agony torment just for me, his weapon.

I knew now, why he would ask that. This empire was his, he said so, and he would maintain that status brutally if it meant he'd have a herd ponies to kill on a whim while he styled himself as king. Those crimson eyes that knew from the very beginning just a bit of what was going to happen to their owner as soon as I buried what was left of that wizard - it was a hasty job, but I didn't want any other creatures tracking me then. He told me a few things, little traces of plans too poorly thought out for even me to understand, but there was a word I didn't know at the time. The exact subtleties of the meaning have been lost on me so far...

But it's impossible not to remember, especially now. The chill of the floor was a perfect substitute for the wind that day. Onyx said something about how he was going to slaughter the crystal ponies while I created the shallow hole meant to be Starswirl's grave.

It was just like killing Starswirl, and at the same time it wasn't.

I'd be finding out soon enough, I always did. 

Onyx didn't know who to kill first in order to make maintaining power easier. I had unknowingly given him an answer that he found merit in.

Starting tomorrow, the slaughter would begin, and I'd learn exactly what it meant.



...



I had forgotten what hallway I was going down. This crown weighed me down more than I would like it to, sitting askew upon my head. I blinked at light that was not there, my gait a stumble as I did. The scrape of metal and noise of my hoofsteps hidden to none.

It was how she found me; I might as well have let her. Everything swayed a bit, my throat still burned, and my headache consumed me. I hated the sight of her. She stood in a dark hall, but her disgustingly bright yellow coat didn't belong here. I don't think it could belong anywhere but on a pony. I looked miserable and that coat looked even worse on a crystal pony. My temper stirred and I would have growled-

But everything seemed to lurch forward and she spoke, her eyes flicking about and wide with the confusion of somepony who can't see so well in this dark.

I watched her run a forehoof with some kind of custom, extended greave on it through her thick mane, which was at least three different shades of purple - as if one wasn't bad enough! - and pulled away from her face with a kind of fancy blue string - ribbon, I think? She was young-ish; it was hard to tell under the gross amount of cosmetics that she painted herself with, despite looking half-starved. I was younger, barely shorter than her, drunk, and just barely holding back from the flash of color that was her. She had thought that she could sneak up on me; I had felt her magic, too late, I guess, but I had felt it...

Everything was much slower than it needed to be. Why was I walking in this hall again? I've heard of mares being pretty, but this one was ugly. How could she still afford pink eye shadow?

"This is King Sombra?" She sounded like she didn't see me. Was there surprise or contempt that tone? Did she not see that I saw how her legs were shaking? Even her tone wasn't completely steady.

I didn't like her. She was hideous. Why and how were mares pretty?

That - that thing she wore on her leg. It was so ponies... the ones that weren't unicorns didn't have to hold it in their mouth, and sure enough other than a stupid mirror mark there's a sheathed sword at her side; it looks a bit showy. She's barely an adult - sixteen at the least, which makes her older than me, I know, but she's small from not having enough to eat and still smears herself with that stuff-

She whips out her sword - it's right hoofed, as most of them are. I can see the blade is dark - black, how rare - and are those ruby pommels? 

Hmmm...

She's...

I actually want to hurt her...

She's holding the blade in my direc-

She's an assassin.

One blink, jump, and flare of dark fire on my horn later and my heart is racing as anger picks up speed when time does. I feel beyond horrible and my movement surprises her. In the crooked shadows of this corrupted hall she looks even worse, shadows flash across her ribs in stripes and she can't breath right.

I want to hurt her more than anything.

Why am I still thinking? No, no... I could tear this little mare apart, she's trying to hurt me-

She looks scared, and I like that, in an angry sort of way. Something gnaws at me, and it's not regret or remorse-
I'm going to stop thinking like this because-

"I... I'm going to kill you."

Her sword is indeed black. The onyx blade shakes in her grip and her vainglorious hero facade crumbles entirely. "You - how could you have done it all? It's been months since you took the throne..."

A sob wracks her throat, but she doesn't crumple to the ground. Her legs are weak enough to... just a bit of magic, a little mishap with the crystals and she won't have any...

"And we're already starving, so many have already died... everything is just gone! You stole the heart, I know it was you who burned my family's farm - I heard you laughing!" Her annoying voice was shrill through tears. When I growled, low, angry, and warbling with drunkenness she squeaked and flinched as I winced from her sharp, high tone.

I want to tear her apart.

Rage will ignite in me - a matter of when, not if - but everything is so slow.

"You, King Sombra, have to be stopped! I have taken the heirloom of my family - Phobos - against you-"

Why was this damned mare still talking?! I want, no, needed to hurt her!

"SHUT UP!" How didn't I slur those words...? Am I swaying? My head-

"...and yet I'm here now... and you're..." She swallows, backing toward an alcove, but her voice sounds louder then it should be at its current volume. The once-haughty tone was now a whisper.

"How old are you?"

She still points the sword at me.

I don't want her to live.

I don't question why, and the blood roaring in my ears distracts me.

Magic is building up inside of me, wild and wanting to be used.

I want to use it.

I step toward her, hoofsteps suddenly silent on the floor as the shadows weave over me. "Do... Do you dare to anger me? And do... do you real... really think that you can harm me? Or... or that you... you'll get away with this when I can over... overwhelm you with my magic?"

I don't care how far away my mind might think it is, I think that I'm more grounded, more trapped then I usually am.

Sick of her - whoever she is - that's what I am.

I'm not going to die.

"I'm fifteen years old."

There, the little mare has my age. She's cowering in the alcove. Those legs aren't going to carry her very far - or anywhere. I bet she barely memorized this place. When she found me - now I remember, her eyes... she got very lucky.

It's all bad luck too.

She's muttering something between a curse and a prayer to something, and it drifts past my years, like gibberish. My focus is all off. I can see her - with that coat - it's impossible not to.

Is time melting again? I feel too warm - is it my cloak?

Why was I walking down-

Something clatters, I'm half sure I heard it-

It's her sword.

Phob-something? If she dropped her sword-

She's sobbing, muttering-

My vision swims; I know I stumble and here I go, lurching again-

And there's something in her hooves, gleaming in the dark-

A crystal coating is spreading across it-

She's still sobbing-

And then she sees me coming toward her, and I'm thinking: Did this all happen in a second?

"If you are just a child, can you not stop? Can't you repent and run off, you monster? Please! Go away!"

A candelabra shining with clusters of crystal flies by my head. Her shout hurts my ears. I dodge it, but my movements are almost clumsy and mechanical - like broken clockwork. Last week, when I had another binge like this-

Was that what I was doing? It'll all come back eventually...

...I threw something at a clock, and it spilled out shining gears and broken springs. I had never seen anything like it...

...And I couldn't stop screaming or trying to break those bits to dust...

I scoop up her sword in my magic, and give her a furious, livid look that makes all the color drain from her face.

I could tear her apart...

She tried to kill me...

She knows that she's not leaving this place alive... or in one piece...

If my temper is like fire, I feel something snap, and something else ignite.

...or dying quickly...

I am going to tear her apart.

She's the only crystal pony in the castle tonight - Onyx will likely have somepony for me to clean up when I find myself again - and she'll be screaming the whole time. Growling, I fling my crown at her - it doesn't hit her, I've never been good at throwing anything in a fight and definitely not when I'm in this state, but she shrieks anyway. I hate the sound of it and growl again. Whatever this feeling is, it's like a fever.

And the perfect excuse to stop thinking and just do something.



...



The cracks in the mirror-wall capture moonlight like crooked veins that shone too bright when I stumble to it, with large strides that even my mind can barely follow before metal clad hooves catch up with the sound of my steps and-

I throw myself against a wall that only reflects myself in pieces while my heartbeat roars in my ears and the dark energy that makes up my magic makes the air around be feel like it is sizzling when nothing is really there.

The touch of the wall is cold, and I let the feeling gnaw at me, shuddering, while my stare burns holes in me. Those two red eyes are the only drops of color in this damned place. This small section has yet to succumb to the corruption and be consumed in gray like the rest of the castle. Metal boots gleam, and light flashes with movement. Onyx's helm clatters to the floor, and the sound haunts the hallways but all I can do is suck in a few desperate breathes and look at myself with all the stability of a storm on the horizon of the Gemheart Mountains, looming with everything dark inside.

In all that has transpired here, I feel as though my mind can't decide to stay or go - so it does both at once, and I'm left with the results of cold seeping through my coat and a now-bare hoof tracing cracks filled with moonlight that makes my head throbs from within, like reminders of ponies screaming, talking, choking, crying-

Begging.

In a world drowned and black - drowning in shadows like I've drowned in drink at every little thought about just how easy it is to push ponies into cold water-

Because the mass graves - mountain tombs that aren't deserving of the name; stone pit and one to top it all off - do fill up and he had me lead six that day; six too many, who would never fit.

He wanted me to get rid of them, the memory's a blur now, when I'm floating from the inside out, trying to escape castles and equinoid forms-

Almost anything, simply everything. All of this, but never me, the inevitable and unreasonable. I drift ever-present behind walls that won't break.

-it always floats in fragments, as cracked as this wall that feels more solid than I do.

I want to slip through it and stretch beyond the body that I'm meant to shed but-

Instead, I just remember the day in the mountains; the first since I came here when I was just fifteen and my wakefulness made it easy to see everything, all the time.

But this wall is so cold. It's freezing me here, keeping me upright so I don't fall on a pile on the floor, too pony shaped for my own good, too easy to hold down.

Ponies fall into water easily, and town ponies simply don't know how to swim the closer they are to the castle. They just drown. They're too simple. They shouldn't be. Just push and shove. Cry out. Silence that drowns it all. Shock at the stupidity, the inability of each and every one of them. Anger wrestling apathy, and I'm the only one to repeat everything in the same morbid pattern.

All his suggestions were far crueler, but this pleased him anyway. He laughed in my ears, and nopony could ever hear. He kept my hooves rooted to the mountain.

I watched everything.

Thinking.

All I could do was think after that, my mind stumbling deeper into so much - something that bordered on a morbid fascination will all this, maybe? - about just what ponies were like, how stupidly easy it was to sever something that only I fought to defend. Then, that life was my own. I'd read so much more, there were creatures that lasted forever in there, and they were pony-shaped too... but that was never the end of it. Fools wasted paper and words debating whether ponies and other creatures could deserve things, like life.

Nopony deserved to live; that was stupid.

Nopony deserved to die either, that just sounds naive, whenever I thought about it in clearer moments.

To think that anypony deserved anything... I've come to expect things like that from this species, since any other expectation and estimation, as low as they were compared to what they could have been, had been crushed. I was not bitter of it. Some time ago, I had been so very curious about nearly every little thing in the world. Something in it could matter; the ponies didn't.

I don't wish for anything - with where I am now, I almost can't - but I try to let the memory of snow and bitter winds stinging my mane and digging through my coat substitute for the burning chill of the all too solid walls.

Lately, I've found myself remembering a very particular event before all this. It's almost like my blood hums when I recall it; every little bit of my form seems to remember, too. There was a time when I wasn't so dreadfully solid, attached to anything, or tossed about. I was shifting, roiling, unseen... if only for a second.

But I was me. I was; I am. And I still remember it, and I've been remembering and wondering about the time when I didn't even need to breathe. I had been something else, and just the same. Surely magic still ran below my surface? I felt it, I felt something. It had to be. I knew magic ran below me. I knew what was there, I feel it all the time when I'm still in control of myself - when he's lingering, gone, hiding away until the sun comes up.

I know exactly what I was doing as everything but the pair of silver scissors I teleported from a chamber that only felt as though it were leagues away from where I was now, tethered in discomfort to a body so equine in nature.

I knew I was equine. My reflection was there, and it looked surprisingly solid, undoubtable even. I felt as if I wavered, or that this - my current body, where breathing felt odd and labored with fear - would wither like all the others despite having eyes that transcended the ignorant looks and hollow stares of every pony. It was me, but my greater self, my magic, the me in that second during my creation years ago - even if the form was an oddly juvenile one -  was still there.

Somewhere.

I felt it below, it could be anchored below...

Ponies were like paper, there was always so much of them. Both were covered in different things... Paper, words - they were rarely a waste. Are even my thoughts escaping my senses? 

My mind feels sky-high - like a pegasus - and yet more trapped in this place then ever. I feel my hooves move on their own because my legs are shaking so much and cold sweat feels like it should be pouring down the back of my neck and running under the bangs I used to have before he was content to style my mane again every day and it looked horrible, it wasn't me and... The moon shone outside, why hadn't I undone it yet? I wanted to be myself for the night...

The gleam of silver caught my attention once again, like it was the center of the world.

If ponies were like paper - I could cut both up on an everyday basis...

All I had to do was snip away this form until I was back as I should be, as I was then. It isn't as if my body hasn't changed forms while I have remained the same; I yearn to slip into shadow again and race across the Arctic, snow flying through me.

But-

But-

It just takes the world spinning in place, one choked gasp, and a blink-

Until my own haunted stare finds its reflection, and its burning color is almost too vivid. The illusion of the world ordering around those eyes settles in, and so does everything else.

My horn dims, my coat remains without punctures and scars.

Scissors fall to the ground, disrupting the heavy silence.

And I dread the passing night.



...



I am a monster.

I'm told this every day. By the king who tried to break me from the inside out because he was in constant need of entertainment that needed to be as twisted as possible in order to suit his tastes. He wanted bleeding, screaming - anything that redefined 'bloodbath' and 'overkill' were perfect for him. And he thought that he could tame me, the Right-Honourable Lord Sombra, eighteen years old to that parasite's thirteen. I may be practically chained here, and as Onyx, the king, likes to crow, his favorite slave and the slave of slaves but I was unbreakable.

I could never be saved, even if somepony wanted to.

I could never give up.

But I would never break - no matter how much my self-destructive and  stranger habits said otherwise.

One of these was drinking myself more than half-mad in binges between months. There's no other way to say it. I just put it bluntly.

I also don't sleep.

I put everything bluntly. Words. Actions.

Lots of actions that I've sunk into.

I'm unrepentant, and it isn't right.

I've found that bashing in a pony's skull is surprisingly merciful to some of the other things that Onyx likes. Slower things.

I'll say anything once I've drunk enough.

Almost anything. I won't surrender.

I won't give up.

But I'll lie a lot.

I'm honest. Sometimes, I'll forget just how honest I am. Mostly during times like these and I'll say absolutely almost anything.

But I'll lie too.

I like to think that I'm at least an honest liar.

I'm a monster. The crystal ponies tell me so and that's one of the few things that they can't really be blamed for. Onyx likes to lure them into the castle by finding them in the day, evading any detection with my magic - or at least as much as he is able to abuse - and rip apart their minds from the inside out because at least they'll break.

Those will be the nights I'll never get to myself. He'll slip into my mind a bit, alongside it. And when morning comes there will be no crystal ponies alive in the castle anymore.

It's likely all for the library stunt I pulled. I call it that because it's one of the few things I can't bear to put bluntly. Acknowledging it is bad enough. The memory itself is worse. Re-experiencing it is worse then the memory. The aftermath of it is only bearable because I haven't got a choice in that matter. Or many at all.

His tastes have become even more morbid lately. He's less content with slaughtering ponies and hacking off limbs and pulling them apart and adding in far more...

He knows I'm unbreakable because he wouldn't deny it so much if he wasn't aware of it. Onyx will go out of the way to hurt me in almost any way he can, and he's grown more vile since that night in the library, where he almost lost me. He'll tell me over and over how he'll never lose me again, that I'm his forever. He curses me any my every rebellion, because even if I no longer want to die, I can't bear to live either.

I'm in between everything and anything, being and not being. I could say that every day is horrific, at best, because it is. Except so much of me doesn't care about control and crystal ponies.

But I love me, and he keeps trying to hurt and control me. Onyx hasn't and won't be able to break me, not now, not ever, and of course in his idiotic persistence - he hasn't gotten any smarter, just crueler and more powerful as further corruption seeps deeper into what is left of him - he won't give up trying to be as brutal as he wants to my unyielding mind in his pointless efforts to get me to stop speaking out and rebelling in every little way that makes him angrier since I never bow, never submit. Never ever.

I tell him to kiss my ass, he tries to go into my mind and...

His attempts don't succeed in breaking me...

But...






I've never felt more violated in my life.






I give him every reason to hate me because I'm generous like that. Any small thing he could ever use to despise me as an excuse to abuse me - he doesn't use many, he just wants to as though he were the one who was drunk on something - and he'll jump at the excuse to do that...

The aftermath of shivering and thinking and thinking and shivering and wanting to be and not to be alone and shivering and thinking and almost begging right at the tip of my tongue. All this weight that never goes away is worse every time. So I just drink more. Really, there's no other way to put it. If I weren't a demon, I would have succumbed to a worse physical condition by now. It's not like this will solve anything. It's not like anything will.

Crystal ponies will scream almost anything at me. Monster is a favorite. Foal-killer too.

It's accurate. Onyx has a particular vengeance against foals and he knows that I hate hurting them. They're so small and incomplete, why would there be a point in hurting a creature that can't fight back? That, I suppose, is exactly why he likes to make sure that I hurt plenty of them.

Ponies can't stop talking and the fact that their whole species is fashioned from liars and are almost all the same behind their different coats makes me fly into a rage even when I'm sober - and that gets worse with each passing year too - because...

...I hear begging instead of fighting. Their eyes are all the same. One even told me to kill her daughter in her place and more followed like that. Aren't ponies supposed to have misplaced loyalty and blind love for their spawn? They cry, they scream, they fade and even if they're all the same I still see them between blinks.

The words they write say either everything that's the same or everything that's different. Many of them hope its their neighbors instead of them that are taken, and a select few would sacrifice anypony in their place. Family. Friends. Lovers. It's all there in their secret confessions.

It's actually funny how that's not the worst of it. I remember reading these things - all these silly things written by the ponies who told me I was the monster and screamed insults at me or cried out for somepony who never came to help them with their dying breath, choked by sobs - and I almost, almost laughed.

...It's been years since I've laughed.

Nopony misses walking under stars or reading books on a spring day - even if it's always winter now - or just looking out a window and not seeing all of this. Nopony misses quiet or what it's like to think about something far more important then the pony next to you keeps talking about something that's about as important as them - in other words, completely insignificant to musings. Nopony misses what it's like to just go from one place to another and look at the sky to see if it might rain or the taste of snow on their tongue.

It hasn't rained in years. My magic has poisoned the weather, I'm sure of it. It's all snow now, if there's anything at all.

But all they miss is something called good, that's far too disgusting to be laughable. They don't miss themselves, they pray to gods, play victim, and waste away.

I'm a monster, and none of this massacre should have ever happened, but I'm the lesser evil each and every time.

Sighing my usual sigh of contempt - at anything and nothing - I leaned back against the äerint wall, letting little bits of crystal poke my back. Phobos floated in the grip of my magic and I was wiping off the remaining blood from the most recent crystal ponies to die. It was really quite fresh, and the thought made me scowl a little more than I usually did.

At least I wouldn't need to do much more than wipe this blade clean and see if it needs sharpened. While my work with a weapon was barbaric at best when intoxicated - that young assassin mare from years ago certainly knew, saying that I dismembered her sounds downright merciful, and of course wholly inaccurate - I was able to mostly use an array of new magic to kill them.

...In the aftermath of it all, I can at least be proud of my magic. It's better than having to resent Onyx abusing me for not being 'as cruel as I could have been'.

I was wait for my hangover to subside a bit more before I even considered trying to find my way to the balcony to look at the stars. Even navigating this castle has become something like a chore. The network of spells that I use to force myself into this wakeful state aren't the best since I hadn't taken to spellcraft as easy as I thought when I first began to work on the then-problem of illiteracy. I had to check everything I did at least six times over when it came to research and whatever clumsy notes I could manage. Drinking has made it impossible to even try to grip a pen in my hoof or magic, so even though I'm the most talented and powerful of mortals since the Collapse any hope for mastering finer skills like writing via magic is gone while my combat skills soar.

I try to nestle myself deeper into the strange, smooth fabric of the king's cape and keep my thoughts from drifting too far. The weight of the crown I was forced to wear was gone I tried to forgo when I could - it wasn't me - so the chance I had now, to actually take it off was amazing!

Navigation of the castle wasn't much of a problem. I never saw the outside anymore except from the balcony, so it wasn't as if I had to go anywhere, and these problems largely effected me, not Onyx. This meant I could drink my life away if I wanted to. My research never suffered; I wouldn't force myself to do this if I knew that my intelligence and anything so undeniably me, like my pride, would suffer. I could navigate my way through the castle with some practice, even if I kept having to learn many of the halls again after a few months. But why did I have to do this? 

Memory deterioration. The foundations of all my spellwork are brilliant at the very least, no matter what age I am, but other parts of it...

I designed all the insomniac spell matrix when I was younger, and still a little clumsy with my reading. I require far less sleep than ponies, even without it but I am also a mortal and no mortal creature is meant to stay awake for years at a time.

Alcoholism never helps anything. I can't even say why I thought that it could have done anything that wasn't horrible. Maybe because I am treated as a living addiction, I felt I would be immune to developing any of my own. 

I can't redo the specific parts that are faulty without having to break the dense amount of spellwork down and redo everything from scratch. The problem with that is that as soon as I let this all fall - which I mustn't ever - I'll only have about forty eight hours to live. That would never be enough to work something so complicated, especially not in my state.

It was impossible to notice the faults in the system earlier - all these complications.

I dropped Phobos onto the floor and buried my face in my bare forehooves, drawing ragged, panicky breaths. I couldn't panic, not now...

I just can't stop anything. Can't stop. Don't stop. Living is unbearable, but now I'm afraid to die and negligent gods, he'd know, he would...

I just closed my eyes until all I saw were the shadows behind my eyes. All of the books I read about the mind - which was surprisingly few compared to everything else and my genius in the case of all things mental. A mental case.

Like me.

"Ha-ha," I mumble, my voice grouchy and deadpan.

The books all said I went through things called psychosis, and that was episodes of where I lost touch with things or heard or saw things. But unlike ponies, books never told me that I deserved worse than the fates I was forced to dish out because...

I'm like a god here. An enslaved god. I play god. I am the only god that is anchored here. 

A mortal god.

A living paradox.

I'm afraid of sleeping. I still don't think I'll ever wake up if I did. Psychosis is enjoyable, in some wicked way compared to all this, even if it means standing in front of walls and staring at myself for hours, yelling at things that aren't there, finding myself in a cold sweat with my heart racing, or trying to jab holes in myself with a pair of scissors, like that one time...

If that isn't enjoyable, what is? 

No matter what happens, I always feel like I'm the only pony that's actually real.

There's ponies that are probably watching me, those are one of the few times that I do kill them because I know that they were and that even if it is paranoia - those books aren't exactly wrong - they're gone and they can't hurt me.

I know lots of things.

I know that everypony wants to hurt me. They even scream it in my face with their dying breaths.

Ponies are evil. 

There is so little in this world that could be described as wholly evil, and not all ponies are evil - history can at least say that there were some who weren't. It's all written there, yet I only ask: where did all the writers go?

I'm evil too, I imagine. A lesser evil, but evil all the same.

Nopony but me should be here, so when I felt the magic of another nearby, I tensed up and readied myself for a fight, dropping the blood-soaked rags I had with me and scooping up Phobos in my hooves. Boots spattered with blood here and there made it hard to grasp it at first, but I managed to fumble with the hilt long enough to muster up enough magic to grasp the blade.

The cold sweat I hadn't had now had already begun to run, and while it was hard for me to look anything other than crazed and intimidating, I caught the glimpse of a wild look in my eyes - it wasn't one I was unaccustomed to, either.

It wasn't because this was a pony I felt. A pony would not scare me like this. It's because the magic I felt lurking about these halls deep in the castle was my own, which was literally impossible. Even psychosis and other similar episodes I've had couldn't replicate something so accurate and lingering as a complex magical signature and-

I felt the presence teleport and frantically tried to sort through the signature in my haggard state, even if it was one I almost perpetually maintained-

"I'm just as surprised as you are, you know."

I looked into the eye of myself. Standing before me, I find myself younger by five years and with a thick winter coat that poked past the patched and ragged brown cloak I wore that year. The one I still missed, just a little, even now. His left eye was bound with the same rag from the cloth that I bound my legs with. I still saw the spots of long-washed away blood easily. His messier mane fell into his uncovered eye and small scratches that would heal in time marked his muzzle. Yet, he still looked at me curiously.

"You must hate me."

My younger self blinked. "I hate what you've done to your mane."

"It wasn't exactly my choice."

"Not much seems to be," my arguably moodier self replied coolly.

"Tell me about it," I scoff, casting Phobos aside with careless force. I could never be my enemy. "I live a lie."

Neither of us said anything.

"I feel like a lie," I mumbled, stepping closer to him and sitting on the floor, so that no bout of dizziness, no matter how small could effect me. At least this could be real; I'm mostly certain that it is.

"Life fucking sucks," the other Sombra remarked sagely, proving that it was possible to look deeply contemplative, incredibly jaded, and undeniably attractive at the same time.

"I second that."

The younger Sombra cocked his head to the side and made a low warble in the back of his throat. If it weren't myself that I beheld, I could almost say that I looked innocent, something I never was and could never be. Maybe I was in comparison, innocent, as I looked upon this - a grim future where I defined, defied, and endured.

Hope - or rather, something a bit sicker and heavier, stirred in me for a moment at the thought of every rebellion between him and me, this point and that, but it died quickly and coldly. I felt it do so. There might not be many more rebellions, and it was not a matter of vigor. It never was, had been, or will be.

He looks at me, and knows some of what I felt in all those years in an instant. He even understands some of it, but I cannot be surprised. He is me and I am him. He has the courage to let confusion and curiosity burn brighter than panic, but I couldn't miss the latter in his eye.

My eye.

I didn't have panic attacks as severe as I do now then. And no matter what is to transpire here, it isn't as if I can save 'him'. He is me. 'He' is just a convenient way to refer to 'him'. 

He and I share our ability to read between the lines - mine is far more honed and realized - but that doesn't mean we can break everything and nothing, no matter how great any Sombra would be.

This information is exchanged in slivers - incomplete but effective - of how we glance at one another, needing nothing more, and it only takes seconds. There are other matters at hoof, ones that only a great, mad mind could get around to solving.

"And who would be better to solve anything so above and beyond ponies than the Right-Honourable Lord Sombra?"

"Two Right-Honourable Lord Sombras!"

He doesn't miss a beat, but any surprise is impossible. He is me and I'm a genius as well as a quick learner, and I always have been. I wouldn't make myself live through partial and concentrated memory deterioration otherwise. The words aren't familiar to him - a lord, honor - and if it weren't me I looked upon he could have been happy. But he is me, and I am not one with a large capacity for happiness.

"This entire scenario is impossible," he begins.

"I haven't dabbled in the largely impossible field of time travel; trust you, you don't want to know just how much of a mess explaining that would be right here, right now," I interjected.

There was the smirk I loved, the smirk I missed! "Trust me, I'll take my word for it, you miserable wretch."

"Oh, you have no idea," I grumbled, casting my gaze to the ceiling above us, a dim and distant mouth.

The younger Sombra gave a heavy sigh and lit his horn with dark fire - just a small flare to offer a little light and exaggerate the shadows around us. Of course, it had just crossed my mind to do the same, he merely beat to the opportunity.

The distance between us could be closed easily, by the thought of that was terrifying - even though I was amazing, the thought of touching another wasn't one I held in a favorable light. If it was anypony else, 'disgusting' would barely cover the experience.

The younger Sombra agreed - his eyes told all - but it didn't stop him from wrapping his rag-bound forehooves around my barrel and pulling me closer to him in something between an unwanted embrace and physical restraining me.

I loathed every second of it. "What in Tartarus' name are you doing?! Cut that out!" 

I had to resist any urge to hurt him, which was harder than it sounded. Sure, my hangover might as well have just vanished now that this arrogant, wonderful, paradox has appeared and distracted me but-

Damn it, why did I have to be so strong?!

"Can't... breathe..."

"You're so cold," the younger Sombra mumbled into my coat. "Very real and very cold. I don't think that I've ever encountered anything as cold as you... and yet it feels so wrong. How can the cold feel wrong?"

"Shut up, kid. Just let go of me!" Growling, I slipped into shadow - which was as relieving as gulping ten deep breaths of fresh, crisp, snowstorm-laden air in a single second - before reforming a few feet away from him, anger clear on all of my face.

Younger Sombra scoffed and held my angry gaze with his own moody glare.

"Time travel magic is out of the question then," he said, tone acidic and hostile.

"Yes," I began, narrowing my eyes. He did likewise. "So is psychosis."

The younger Sombra didn't budge. Yet more proof that we were one in the same. The only way he demonstrated his confusion at the unfamiliar term was to flick his fluffy ears curiously while I bit my lip slightly and resisted the sudden compulsion to touch them. My non-fluffy ears felt a little strange in comparison.

"It's something to do with my mental health."

"Or lack of," Fluffy Sombra scoffed.

"You're telling me." We both broke the shared glare-off with a synced eye-roll.



...



There are many things that I refuse to believe because there is no halfway adequate proof that they can be true. Sometimes there's no proof at all. Until something stares me in the face or does manage to present proper proof of its honesty, there's simply nothing for me to believe. I never believed I'd live to be twenty three years old until I saw him standing there and looking down at younger Sombra and I. He looked hopeless, and as soon as I saw his hard glare that bordered on malicious when he looked at - or past - my younger self and I. I had felt him, and how powerful he was a bit before my younger companion, who looked upon him like it was the greatest tragedy he would ever see... and he began to cry.

This shocked both the taller, darker version of us as well as myself. I remembered still being able to cry, and the storm lurking below the surface of the near-silent third Sombra who said not much more other than his age.

The hallway felt darker and all we could do was watch the youngest Sombra sob. The older one - Third Sombra; I'm not much good with nicknames unless it's an insult of some kind -  looked melancholy beyond any words my still-light head wanted to conjure up and describe him with.

He was unbearably handsome, but if he noticed that I was staring he said nothing and continued to watch the youngest of us cry mutely. It wasn't that he didn't know what to say, he knew everything to say and everything not to - it was a matter of how to choose from all of it.

I didn't want to focus on crying. It was me, and I loved me, but crying still stirred painful memories of myself and unwanted thoughts of crystal ponies.

Third Sombra was also me, and damn. How the concept of 'imposing' existed before him is astounding. Bags from some long sleeplessness sit under his eyes. His crimson gaze doesn't shift or sweep over it, but it sees all. While he remains distant, his magic and the way he conducts himself - sitting away from us both with the brooding pose of a dangerous thinker not to be disturbed - floods everything. I try to shake the youngest Sombra gently and get a nice, long look at the elder, without him noticing.

"Neither of you are the Replicating Spell," he says after some time. The fluffy Sombra doesn't know what that is, not yet - he has yet to be doomed like me, like Third Sombra - but he has some grasp of what it means. The both of us are enraptured by the voice of the eldest Sombra, who still surveys us, his gaze haunted and lucid.

I don't think he sees me lick the bottoms of my teeth. My mouth was mostly closed anyway and the youngest Sombra looks up at me, slightly confused. He'll understand when he's older.

The eldest said something that I'm well aware of. I'm definitely not a creation of a Replicating Spell and neither is he; the immense amount of fatigue and skill that went into something as amazingly complicated as the Replicating Spell would not leave us in any of the states we find ourselves in now.

I pull the youngest Sombra close to me as his sobs die down and hold him awkwardly, like a doll while sneaking more glances at the third Sombra and the energy that shifts around him.

Gods, I'm handsome.

The third one is lost in thought, running a forehoof through his mane that is done in a style not his own. The crown forced onto his head and mine rests the usual distance away, but his stare is almost world's away.

Imagining myself at that age - somehow more deranged than I am now - but even that's slightly less horrifying... I have him right in front of me, why do I need to envision the horrors that have clearly taken their toll on me then?

"None of this is real," Really, Really Handsome Eldest Sombra says. He speaks with a low, sneering voice that is testy and dangerous. Everything around that voice just fades. It isn't much different from my own, of course, but I've always loved myself - and he still looks at everything, including his younger counterparts - like he was sizing it up for a fight with a look that was both weary and fierce. I would never want to be on the wrong end of that unhinged stare because even the gods themselves might not survive.

I loved every bit of him and nodded to his statement, still admiring him silently. I was sick of ponies and nearly everything else, so he was a sight for sore eyes indeed.

"Does that mean we aren't dead?" Youngest Sombra pipes up. He looks a little sick and paws at my forehooves with a faint whimper until I tear myself away from eldest Sombra and pay enough attention to him to realize that he wants me to let him go. He gasps with breath not unlike his sobs from earlier before settling down on the cold floor and resting his head in his forehooves. The sound of his soft purring fills the halls moments later and I watch him nuzzle into his forehooves - as I did many times when he was me and I was him - until I returned my gaze to Sombra-killer Sombra.

His grumpy glare would have ripped apart any lesser being, I was sure of it. "Are you really so busy ogling me that you haven't bothered to think of what's happening here? You didn't even question me when I spoke to you and inquire to why and how this wasn't real."

He huffed and looked away, but not before giving me one last eye roll of scorn that made me feel like I was melting inside. 

Youngest Sombra just looked on in silence, eyes bright and curious, and of course, devious in waiting to see just what would unfold.

"And you haven't even considered that your eighteen year old self might be worth a few looks too?" I huff with mild offense.

The eldest Sombra - who, of course, is still very young and beautiful - rolls his eyes again. "You are, but that doesn't mean I haven't been thinking of anything else. We are all gifted multitaskers after all, and the convenience of us deciding to refer to one another separately is actually a nice touch. However, we're still going to have a few problems."

His deeply annoyed tone did nothing to phase youngest Sombra and I. 

"Such as?" he and I said in unison. 

Elder But Still Really Young and Completely Gorgeous Sombra looked at us. He was no doubt colder than I would ever be to the rag-cloaked fluffball purring on the floor. Still, a little shred of sadness seeped through when he looked at said fluffball, who held his intense gaze with one that was filled with something almost like the wonder the elder and I lost.

"That one there isn't as educated as you and I think it's quite obvious that all you do is admire my esteemed self. Do you think I haven't seen you? Just what do you have to say to that?"

"Other then 'I'm smug and unrepentant'? Nothing at all."

"Of course you are." A small glint of amusement shone in his eyes before vanishing. "No matter how long I live, I'll always be a narcissist in every regard."

"And superior," mumbles my youngest incarnation from his place on the floor.

The eldest nods. I know I'm not the only one that notices Third Sombra's heavy gaze darken with something only he knows. The fluffy Sombra winces at the intensity of the gaze that sees beyond whatever it is that troubles our future incarnation. 

"All of us are the product of something else. Something undeniably magic in nature. Had this been otherwise, one of the first things to cross all our minds would have been the problem of three Onyxes, yet here we are, almost relaxed."

Neither the youngest Sombra or I spoke. Everything he said was very sound. His tone embittered, but words true.

"Memory magic is at work here. If it wasn't then we'd be caught up in some kind of incredibly recent events or-"

"This is the most advanced memory magic imaginable then - or at least some of the most advanced if neither of us are able to detect it. There's no mind control woven into this either. Wherever we are must be something awesome - divine maybe? God-wrought?"

Third Sombra gives me a mildly annoyed level glare for the interruption. "As I was going to add, we're all somewhere very familiar to the majority - in this case, two-thirds - of us. And yes, this is phenomenal at the least, but the full extent of whatever this really is... it would be something spectacular. A true example of genius with little to no rival."

"But what else could be expected from the Right-Honourable Lord Sombra?" 

Both elder Sombra and I cast a quick glance to youngest Sombra, who was trying to paw at a particularly troublesome tuft of chest fluff that had been bothering him. The looks of something so much like grief that both myself and the eldest Sombra gave him went unnoticed by the distraction, yet I doubt he didn't feel the intensity. When I snuck a vain look at the elder Sombra, the devastation in his eyes at the sight of the almost-innocence at this incarnation of himself made my heart sink.

He still looked pretty dashing, if I do say so myself.

"If this had been time travel," eldest Sombra begins, resuming a demeanor of cracked apathy, fury showing through indifference, " then guessing which part of the multiverse that the twenty three year old Sombra originated from would be a disaster, as would all the other work that would come from dealing with splinter universes or possible time loops..."

To say that the fourth wave of magic that the three of us detect washes over us would be a spectacular and downright insulting attempt at observation compared to the almost-almighty - no, godly - presence that floods the halls and makes itself known. 

And everything changed when the fourth Sombra showed up.



...



The walls of the crystal castle warped before he even arrived and made his presence known to Young Sombra, myself, and Youngest Sombra. Soon the dark and gloomy halls had been replaced by the natural stone of a mountain in varying gray hues. Soon, it was if we three Sombras were standing in an amazing domed chamber that looked as if it were something like the dragon's lairs that I've read about or something like the old tombs and other hidden locations sealed within the Gemheart Mountains. Only none of them were ever like this. The stone beneath my armored hooves was still rough and the walls had not been smoothed or polished. and yet they weren't too jagged, hazardous, or unsightly.

Instead, it was one of the most epic things that either of us had seen. For once, each of us wasn't looking at one another or trying to be on guard for the origin of the magical presence that was sweeping through this place that made even the corrupted castle rotundas feel small. Youngest Sombra looked particularly awestruck even though he was the one who would have the awesome harshness of the Arctic freshest in his mind.

At the thought of the Arctic, I felt a cold wind blow into the center of the chamber where I stood, admiring the high reaches that I could not see. It snatched my attention and I turned to see the direction it came from - left, where I couldn't see even the faintest blur of color.

And that was when I saw him.

He took every idea of any kind of attractiveness possible, broke it and rebuilt it for the sole purpose of smugly redefining it and rising far above each and every one. And he hadn't even shaken off the snow that was dusting his perfect form as he nonchalantly walked through the tunnel that lead from somewhere outside.

Young Sombra, no longer brooding raised an eyebrow and surveyed the attractive fourth Sombra.

Youngest Sombra blushed slightly and looked at his rag-bound forehooves.

I gave the newest Sombra the most unsubtle stare of all time. From under his absolutely divine disheveled mane - just like Youngest Sombra's - he gave me a knowing look and rolled his eyes, shooting me a smirk. I was able to catch a glimpse of Young Sombra attempting to resist swooning at the sight, and he did do a very good job of it.

The fourth Sombra smirked at me.

It was so beautiful and devious that I heard Youngest Sombra sniffle a bit. That lucky bastard can still weep at the sight of something as amazing as this.

He was the source of power that transformed this place. He was clearly around the age Young Sombra - there wasn't any obvious sign of age - but the bags under all our eyes and everything... this Sombra... he looked well rested and a little fluffy and...

He looked happy in a way that shone in his crimson eyes of fathomless intelligence.

I watched him sassily toss his mane to rid it of any traces of snow in silence.

He was a Sombra unlike any of us... and somehow he was... happy? What could possibly make me so happy? Just how old was he to be so... pure? How much time had it taken to get such a quintessential version of everything that made up me?

Roguish, mischievous, intelligent, crimson-cloaked, introspective, curious, antisocial, and happy me?!

It wasn't impossible... very little is... but... the thought of me, a summoner-bound demon who just slaughters and drinks and panics and-

Happy. Somehow there's a happy Sombra and I'm not even sure-

I wasn't paying attention. I should have been paying attention. Instead, I feel myself brought into some kind of restraining gesture that's far too lose to actually work effectively and-

By everything I can swear on and everything that has yet to be sworn on, this Sombra that's impossible and undeniable at the same time is pulling me into this-

"It's called a hug, and shut up because you learned to like it."

The others are watching me, their heads cocked to the side and now-wide eyes glowing with analytical light and boundless, yet restrained curiosity. My own curiosity was far from restrained. I reached up and touched the face of the taller, older, beautiful Sombra with one armored hoof. He was so warm and real and fuzzy and he started purring-

Why is my heart beating this fast? Am I going to have a panic attack-

The most wonderful sound fills my ears, somehow sardonic and warm all at once. He's chuckling and oh my gods he's nuzzling me - that thing that ponies do - but why is he nuzzling me and holding me on the floor like this? Wasn't I standing?

"You're not going to have a panic attack, alright? I'm you."

"How young are you?" I whisper, closing my eyes and trying to think of ways to prove that this is real, that he's real, and if I open my eyes I won't be a monster in castle with a voice in my head and a burning feeling in my throat from-

"I'm 1,125."

I...

That's...

Impossible. Everything I've ever wanted. Nothing I've ever dreamed. Improbable. The best. Shocking. Outstanding. Outrageous. Completely mad. Gloriously insane. Unwishable. Possible. Rare. Unlikely. Everything. Nothing. Something. Vast. Comprehensible. Far away. So close. Distant. Paradoxical.

Everything.

It's simply everything.

And...

I'm happy.

I become happy.

I have a future. I have a life.

I have me.

I saw him smile.

He's me.

He's himself.

He remained.

He's Sombra. 

It's so quiet...

Except... it isn't just Youngest Sombra who is crying. Everything dark and beautiful and bright and ugly and all bottled up and angry and miserable just comes out-

And he holds me. He keeps holding me.

He looks like the one who would be able to cry, except that smile - every bloody thing about him - is hiding the most weight of any of us. I can feel it. I can also feel something below his cloak - a wound? I don't mention it, I just keep crying as if there never was tomorrow because maybe none of this is real and I'm just-

Just, what?

Hungover beyond and sick beyond whatever I could have imagined - I, Sombra, who have never seen enough - in the shadow of an empire, mad at everything: voices, walls, monsters, and ponies.

For the first time in my life, I have absolutely no answer. My head is too light; my heart too heavy.

I've never felt more exhausted.

I sink into sleep for the first time in gods knows how long.



...



When I wake up, Youngest Sombra is almost smirking and his eyes are shining. A skipping purr that borders on lighthearted sounds in his throat. Next to him, Young Sombra sits somberly. His eyes are troubled and his gaze is met by his equal - the Divine Sombra, the Ultimate Sombra, the All-Sombra - and even he manages to look marginally less worse for wear. My ears even flick forward - as do Youngest Sombra's fluffy ears - and catch the occasional short, low purr ebb from his own throat.

All-Sombra's charismatic, constantly smug voice speaks to them all.

"This isn't a dream, I think you three have at least realized that by now, but it isn't a lie either. Our location is my mindscape. Yes, Smallest Me, that's something you have literally no idea about. Smaller and Small Me might be aware of the concept - 'the world within' and all about partial worlds, of course. I dragged myself in here and retreated into my own mind to gather strength and prevent my physical form from collapsing entirely as I drift, entirely vulnerable and wounded through the densest and most horrifying,  labyrinthine, and eldritch magical barriers and prisons I have ever encountered in my latest terroristic errand to save things as selfishly as possible."

I could listen to his voice speak forever. There aren't even any interruptions either; everysombra can sense that I'm awake. Smallest Sombra's gaze drifts to me once, and only for a moment. 

"To successfully avoid irreversible damage to my mind and soul, as well as being ripped apart as I sink deeper into these magical layers - the ones I was telling you two about - while in the closest thing to my extraphysical form I can manage without near-death, I have put myself in a coma-like state."

"Then this is almost a dream?" Young Sombra asks, flicking at the hem of his king's cape with magic.

All-Sombra snorts. "I prefer to think of it as 'how to disappear completely'. After all, what exactly is able to find and seize an extraphysical entity, much less locate one?"

"Nothing!" Smallest-sans-Youngest Sombra declares, proudly puffing out his fluffy chest at his future self's display of genius.

"Exactly," All-Sombra and Young Sombra say.

I nod in agreement and feel All-Sombra shift slightly. I can't see his face, but I half close my eyes, face still damp where I had cried, and imagine him smiling his snarky smile when he speaks.

"So far all of them have been devoid of what I'm looking for," All-Sombra continues. "Even those that might have remained, sealed away in magic-sapping, soul-draining prisons made just for the purpose of harming the Alicorns haven't lingered as long as I thought their species might have... However, I can sense there's at least one of them in all this mess."

The two Sombras that sit and listen attentively to his story clap their forehooves. The gesture coming from either of them, the gesture was odd. Youngest Sombra clapped awkwardly, clearly unfamiliar with performing the action while Young Sombra just harrumphed and did so as sarcastically as possible.

"Damn it, why do my future incarnations have to be so attractive?" I mumble.

Young Sombra looks at me. "As attractive as all of us are, don't you think that the almost monomaniac fixation that you've developed towards-"

Straightening my posture a little, I glare at Young Sombra. "You're just jealous because I'm younger than you."

He returned the glare. "I'm annoyed you can't seem to prioritize and admire the appearance of everysombra but him-" He nodded in the direction of Youngest Sombra. "-in silence so that we can orchestrate any plans necessary to get Future Sombra to where he needs to be since-"

"Actually," All-Sombra interjected. I felt him casually toss his mane a bit. "There is plenty of time to get a good long look at me since-"

"You want to admire me as well," Young Sombra says, his annoyed sigh contrasting with an amused roll of his eyes.

"I can't help it," All-Sombra says, as devious as ever. "All Sombras all horribly attractive. I'm doomed."

"Even me?" Youngest Sombra asks, cocking his head to the side.

"You're an egotistical child," All-Sombra says, "but still a child, so no."

"Wouldn't even think of it," Young Sombra grumbles.

I make a very dignified gagging noise. While all of us are at least attractive, Youngest Sombra, was, well, the youngest. There would be no feelings for him, obviously.

"Ah, so when are we going to let True Sombra speak?" Youngest Sombra asks, cocking his head further to the side so that his mane hides both his covered and uncovered eye.

"Now," All-Sombra says tersely. The rest of us nod.

"The Sombra Who Has Yet To Be a Former King was right; none of you are real. All of you are replicas of me in the past - incarnations, as I've noticed you call yourselves in between the older two of you shooting me gay looks-"

"Listen," I say, trying to nudge All-Sombra back into holding me again instead of being so relaxed. "We're all guilty of something. Surely All-Sombra maintains a criminal reputation even in the future?"

"He looks so good it's criminal," Young Sombra mumbled, eyeing an uncaring All-Sombra.

"You three don't know the half of it," All-Sombra said. "Now can I continue?"

All-Sombra gets two nods and an eye roll from Young Sombra for responses. He might have gotten half an eye roll from Youngest Sombra, except his covered eye made it hard to tell.

"Again: none of you are real. Each of you are a bit distorted from how I would have actually acted at your ages due to the hastiness of my spell and the state of mind I was in. There's other minor factors too, but I don't need to go into them. I honestly don't have forever right now. In short: in order for me to properly manifest in my own mind, the mindscape had to be constructed accurately. Thus, it created you three from diverged memories. Three versions of my esteemed and very attractive self frozen in time as literal manifestations of my ego."

There was astounded silence in appreciation of the Ego of All-Sombra that we were part of. After the moment passed, Youngest Sombra raised his forehoof halfway, a look of deep contemplation and worry on his face.

I felt All-Sombra nod.

"The nature of the three of us aside, will we be destroyed once you regain consciousness?"

He shakes his head and I duck to avoid being hit. "No, but you're likely going to be stasis, or have your forms altered. Don't count on destruction though. It's as likely as me embracing humility."

In other words, impossible. The other two nod, assured while I still rest close to All-Sombra.

"How much longer do we have left until that occurs?" Young Sombra asked, tapping a forehoof to his chin and no doubt thinking about numbers that were in no way relevant to the beauty of All-Sombra that he obviously wasn't eyeing. Or maybe he was doing it too subtly using some mysterious technique from the future.

"Not very long. As soon as I sink through the last magical divide, I'll be able to stir my consciousness outside the boundaries of my own mind and form myself as a physical entity again."



...



I felt that I wouldn't last for much longer as the others began to disappear. First, Young Sombra and then Youngest Sombra. It was like they had been erased - there was nothing painful or dramatic. All they did was gradually blend into the background, growing more and more transparent as each second passed. I stood next to All-Sombra, our mismatched height reflecting in the shadows we cast on the chamber's center. He told me that there were more places like this. A whole range of snow-bound mountains with other barrows held my memories and other parts of my mind below the surface of mountains, hidden where only the All-Sombra, myself, and the others would know where to find anything and everything in this vast place.

With each disappearance, the cold wind blowing in from the distant exterior landscape of this place grew chillier - not that it seemed to bother All-Sombra - and the runes around us, the ones carved into the stone walls, glowed with a contained, vibrant crimson light that looked like an extreme version of my own aura. I even thought I saw the ghostly outlines of some tracing their way across All-Sombra's cloak as the burn of power flowed through us both. Yet, each passing second also meant that it was getting farther away from me as I began to gradually fade with all the speed of a crippled messenger travelling on a continent-wide errand.

Like some grand library of libraries, the walls were covered with line after line of almost-rectangular outlines shaped like the cartouches of the south from all the books in the third library. Each row contained hundreds and were about as wide as my muzzle. None of them were irregular in shape and no rows intersected. Every one of them was filled with the strange crimson script that kept shifting. While I couldn't understand it, All-Sombra might have. I could only watch as each letter, in patterns that started at the top and went to the bottom of each changed and grew, swapping features with one another so that each glyph shifted. 

Nothing was carved. This was work that no tool could do. These, as All-Sombra, had explained to me, were but one archive of memories - of knowledge - within this place that even he hadn't seen the full extent of.

"I go far, don't I?" I heard myself say, and shifted my forehooves a bit awkwardly. My words were directed at All-Sombra, but I couldn't tear my stare away from the walls.

"Farther," All-Sombra says, his voice distant and tone enigmatic as ever. What else could I expect from him, from me? 

"And there's still farther to go," I reply, more grounded and distracted sounding than him. My tone is even a little rough in comparison, and again, what else would I expect from myself? No matter which of us speaks, there is always a wryness, defiance, and pride that never goes away.

"Always." Physically, he feels closer to me than ever, and with each response he grows farther away. 

I look down at my legs, which are as easy to look through as the deep shades of color in a stained glass window and ghostly pale. There's something important I need to ask him before I dissolve into the air.

I might never see him again, my divinely charming future self, All-Sombra. The world depended on him.

And on this.

He knew, I saw him spot the shift in my gaze that signaled the change of course in my thoughts. With my good eye, I met his gaze and betrayed as little as I could, despite the chance that he likely already knew what I was thinking.

"Do you-" I began, as confident as ever, only to be interrupted as the first two words left my mouth.

"Want to make out?" All-Sombra finished, lifting and eyebrow so that I understood what he meant even if the undoubtedly modern term of 'make out' was not one I knew.

I couldn't read the extent of what the devious, intelligent look in his eyes revealed, but his sassy smirk concealed nothing.

"Yes, that's what I wanted to ask." My ears perked up where I couldn't smile. "Do you?" I added again.

All-Sombra looked unfazed. Delighted, even. Mostly just crazy as he flashed me that roguish grin again.

"Heck yeah!"
> Chapter 46: The Thing With Feathers
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Luna:


The next six days passed and the nights followed with the usual cosmic indifference that ponies wouldn't bother to notice. The sun rose, as did the moon. If the world I lived upon was to end, then the universe as the whole saw fit to give no sign of such. When did it ever? It may be the prospect of eternity in me etched where a concept of mortality and the many delusions it can bring would lurk in other creatures, or all the things I have learned that simply had me refuse any claim of there being a destiny from an early age. I didn't think that the world would care if it was coming to an end, if it could think.

I am, at heart, a nihilist, and what fun it is to know that life has no true purpose! The joy of knowing that every day, I could learn and grow is refreshing. With each sunrise, I might do something to give myself deeper insight to myself, the world around me, or go on adventure so that my heart might soar with the thought of seeing strange lands. I am bound by no crown as my sister is, but simply wear it. Even doing something as mundane as stealing food from Sombra is something I can look forward to when I do not look to a headpiece for my character. Nihilism is a positive delight and my sister's endless idealism and ways I've found gloomy in comparison to my cheerful outlook. Sombra's curious existentialism was an entire continent of fresh air in comparison to traditions, roles, and destiny.

And I've never found that in anypony but Sombra. Cadance has zest, but is bound in ways she does not realize and though her moderate moxie is nice, Sombra's endless stubbornness and moxie and demon-may-care rakishness was an endless source of delight to me. The thought of talking to somepony who knew that they could just get up... and walk away from everything, and break rules, and do something - whether it be dangerous or wonder-filled - was positively shocking after seeing ponies so content to root themselves in everything only worth shirking.

Now Sombra was gone.

For six days, I pulled through both mourning and worry by lingering in the isolation I drifted to, doing my best to hold myself together as magic ran hot in my blood demanding I work on some kind of plan or stalk an enemy that would dare to even touch one strand of Sombra's mane... oh, it just made me seethe! It also became apparent that I should stop dwelling on some fiend that would dare hurt Sombra when a stray bolt of lightning charred Cadance's nightstand by accident.

She almost managed a glare across the the table during breakfast on the second morning. Her choice of marshmallow infested breakfast didn't do her attempt at hostility much good. With a helpful distraction in the form of a raspberry I was successfully able to relieve her of the marshmallows while she tried to maintain her almost-glare, levitate milk, and grumble about property damage in that chirpy voice of hers.

The third day started out well enough. War was declared between Cadance and I. Pillows were flung, the pancakes she hastily made were gobbled in the brief peace conference that failed spectacularly. By then, the fighting had resumed. She had learned many things about the construction and maintenance of proper pillow forts from her time as a foal sitter, but combat experience went to me.

Civilian casualties were high. Shining Armor never stood a chance against a goddess and a demigod, the latter who considered impromptu singing a proper expression of battle rush and 'emergency' leg warmers to be proper armor. Her war songs were best described as 'alternative'. 

As afternoon came around and the sun wavered in the sky, my spirits had wavered too. Shining Armor, in his constant appreciation of fun and all things merry, told us we were no better than Sombra to be causing so much trouble when all he wanted to do was clean up the pillows that we had scattered everywhere.

Everything that I had been working to try to keep off my mind for all except the most careful thoughts and melancholy to indulge in when I was alone broke and I had started to cry.

I loved Sombra. I missed Sombra. They went hoof in hoof, and all those matters got tangled up in each other and stemmed from that single truth.

I love Sombra.

The third day ended in tears. Cadance tried. She really did, and so did I. I tried to talk to her and tell her even just a couple of these things but she's not the same as Sombra, not at all. She's so innocent and nice. There's only so much of everything I could explain without shattering her and seeing her in tears too. Somepony has to be able to just... smile. That pony is Cadance. Until I get my beloved Sombra back, it's going to be hard to talk to ponies. I try, and I did keep trying to talk with Cady. However, flying alone around this spire in the night air, napping, and reading on magical matters and other things proved to be far more restorative than conversation attempts.

Imagining Sombra's smile hurt far more than it should.

The fourth day was one I slept through, but when I had risen at dusk, I heard Cadance yelling at Shining Armor. I'm sure it was over yesterday, but I didn't know the Western language she was speaking so rapidly in. While Cady sounding so  frustrated was strange, I had only tried to be careful so I didn't roll over and bump Sombra so I could wake him and ask what language she had been speaking  as well as have somepony with whom I could discuss a course of action intelligently in regards to the conflict in Cadance & Shining's cabin.

But Sombra wasn't there.

I was able to catch Cadance cooking herself a late dinner. She let me braid her mane as I would have braided Sombra's and kept talking about all the different things that one can do with pasta, chirpy tone no longer chirpy. I listened to each new method of cooking, serving, and making pasta she mentioned while stirring the sauce to pour on her own simple meal. She even agreed to share, attempting to teach me a few words in her first language, half-heartedly trying to chastise me for forgetting the name of the country her parents came from and the name of its languge. When I just barely stopped myself from asking Sombra if I pronounced everything alright - second opinions never hurt - everything lapsed into awkward silence.

We ate the pasta in awkward silence too. Pink Sunset's kitchen was kept dark and even the werelight Cady created was dim.

The fifth day was one I spent alone and in the air, saying nothing at all to anypony as the wind ruffled my feathers with its bursts of sudden cold that were heavily laden with the salt from the sea. Only the wind's songs graced my ears and my eyes never even caught the slightest glimpse of white or pink on the balcony of Pink Sunset. Once or twice, I did catch a pink princess peeking out at the skies from the windows while I stirred up stormy skies and volleys of lightning.

When I had landed it was not the sweet sound of thunder that startled me, but the voices of Cady and Shining Armor greeting me that jolted me from the solitude I had immersed myself in. I felt even more alone right there then when Sombra left or when I cried in front of those two. I didn't say a single word to them the rest of the night. Occasionally I nodded at something Cady had said, but most of the time I let my thoughts slip, drifting to daydreams and other musings that I let flow by.

Quite a few were about Sombra.

He was likely alright. I had no doubt that he had at least fought in one battle of epic proportions by now. I had imagined his horn blazing crimson, his bangs spilling out from under his cloak and across his eyes - oh and those eyes! When they were filled with the intelligent, stubborn determination I just-

Cady may not be able to read minds but she shot me more than a few knowing looks that night. In any other circumstances, I'm sure I would have responded to her arched eyebrow and infectious smile with my own imitation of the second gesture.

I spent the daylight hours of the sixth day in our cabin with Fish, who I wasn't even in the mood to talk to as I spent hours watching him swim about in a full bath while attempting to focus on a book. Cady had brought it along with her in order to try and divert Shining Armor's attention away from a false book-shaped container that she brought with her. I had seen it before and knew it is where she kept the plant she liked - not tobacco, but something very similar I have never discovered the name to - when she needed to smuggle the substance with her, despite it being legal in both the Crystal Empire and Equestria.

I cannot say that the romance novel did anything to lighten my sinking spirit. They're all dreadfully boring and I understand even less of what is supposed to be achieved during the stories than I used to, now that I have entered a relationship of my own. At least the beings that are supposedly beyond comprehension in Cady's horror books are understandable. I would much rather talk to one of those than I would like to skim six pages of ponies kissing; literally none of this is in any way a good story. I wondered how these things even got published.

But on the sixth night - here and now - I dream.



...



An invisible and savage wind tugged at my feathers as the sudden gusts of freezing air buffeted around me, wanting to me to fly farther into this yawning and endless dark vacuum. I couldn't help but laugh, the sound ringing loud and clear, drowning out all as I cheered wildly. Nopony was around, and any happiness flourishes in solitude and withers in all but the most treasured company. Here, I needn't worry. My heart soared with me and a wide grin found its way across my face. I felt as though I might sparkle, fresh and bright in the lovely black abyss that lathered shadows so freely.

In the distance, I saw them: distant lights, frosty wisps floating in the dark and...

I felt them waiting for me, twinkling enigmatically. I could fly faster, and I did. The little streaks of white-blue lightning that was my speed trail - something I had not seen in centuries, for what need did I have to reduce myself to a blur on a daily basis? - flashed behind me as I plummeted in the direction of the dreamlight, and oh, I felt adrenaline run wild through me as I held my breath with excitement, for I was almost there-

"You're going nowhere."

The world crumbles, ground rushes up beneath my hooves, I feel myself snap back and gasp, suddenly dizzy with the abrupt shift as I remain still, my mind spinning. Looking around, heart still beating with racing energy, I saw that while I stood on something solid, there was nothing to see and while might just be my superior vision, or maybe not, it seemed as if this place was lighter. The alien lights above and around really did become the stars of this dream, distant, ever-present, and memorable. However, my focus was on something far better than any star: the eyes of a too-familiar companion staring at me, his blue eyes more enigmatic than any dreamlight could ever be.

"Hello, Sombra?" I offered, completely confused on how this could be. He looked like Sombra - blue eyes being the only difference - and had his cloak, his armor, his adorable look of apathy that he always combined with a look of hidden calculations mixed with all that indifference. Everything was just so Sombra.

But Sombra couldn't dreamwalk. No pony could, and no demon could. Only I could dreamwalk and while I could drag other ponies into dreams, combine dreams, and visit dreams... I had done no such thing for Sombra... And what was I supposed to do about those blue eyes?

"Just what-"

"I'm you," Not-Sombra said bluntly and flatly, looking me over once.

"Yes, the eyes really give it away. Pray tell, what are you really?"

An expected eye roll and small sigh of the slightest bit of defiance that he put into every bit of his usual body language. "I'm the rational part of your mind. Your voice of reason, if that's how you want to see it."

"Would that not be like the disgruntled part of my mind?"

"No, you and I aren't Sombra. You two are as full of differences as you are similarities."

"So why exactly does my voice of reason look like Sombra?"

Reason gave me one of Sombra's flat stares. "You're really going to ask that?"

"Oh," I said, blinking in surprise, "It makes quite a bit of sense now that I dwell on it..."

"Of course it does."

I cocked my head to the side and Reason's eyes followed the gesture, but otherwise he remained unmoving except for a slight flick of his very fuzzy ear, with a tuft of fur at the top from his winter coat quivering.

"If you are a figment of my imagination-"

"Actually, I'm a byproduct of your subconscious," he interjected, voice slightly less grumbly in its indirect plea for coffee.

"Yes, thank you for enlightening me on the matters of my own mind-"

Reason's expression shifted to a smirk that only spelled 'trouble', fangs flashing slightly as Sombra's handsome smirks always had when I said something that had him acting playful. "So you're going to be the snarky one now? And here I thought you cherished our differences."

"See!" I pointed a forehoof for emphasis. "This is what I was going to say before you interjected: despite taking the form of Sombra, you act just like him as well, even though you're part of my mind, not his. Why is that?"

"I'm only as accurate as you imagine him. Spend enough time here and I'm sure that you'll note some deviations from how Sombra really acts. Now..." Reason gave me a meaningful look. "Are we going to get down to business as to why you're here?"

I furrowed my brow. "This is like the dreams I was telling Sombra - the ones with the different light. That is most certainly what you are here for."

Reason nodded. "Something big is about to happen. Can't you feel it?"

I could! Magic ran wild in me, itching to escape as it built up. My horn tingled with aura that had yet to surge and crackle. Oh, I hadn't felt like this since I-

I think my heart skipped a beat, and the void seemed a little quieter, and the brilliance of the lights above a little brighter.

Reason saw my startled expression and gave me a wry, smug smile that was just too Sombra-like to do anything but make my heart skip a little.

"Since you got your cutie mark," Reason began when I could not, the voice of Sombra commanding everything about this place effortlessly.

"And my own world. Or when I became the Dream Goddess so recently..."

All gods have their own plains of existence. Each is named and unique. Celestia and I have whispered of ours, but only enough to confirm those things to one another, and that was so long ago. We have never even seen the other's world. Until recently I was not strong enough to return to mine. When divinity and a cutie mark were gained, I glimpsed this world all my own... but had yet to master the magic that would take me back to it until my return, when the despair I had succumbed to was not so great. I know not if my sister has been visiting her plain, Radiance, as I have visited Solace. It is what separates gods from just being immortals, these personal worlds and our glorious divinity. 

I know that Sombra has one. He has yet to tell me the name of it, but it is where he disappeared to during our battle on the beach. Old worry threatens to wash over me again, as I recall how I had fretted over whether Sombra would make it out... or be trapped for all eternity, forever doomed. Immortality may be a prerequisite to access such a place, but to triumph and claim? It was such a grand feat for two little fillies of our age to access those worlds and claim them as ours, letting them lace their existence with our superior ones.

And it has been some time - two years, or so; I do not care for such record keeping at the moment - since such unbound eagerness has run through me, and my coat has glowed with a light that has yet to decide if it is aura, divinity, or something else...

Yes, both Reason and I note that I am literally glowing. It is quite natural too, for the light between, green, white, and blue - it is far too transparent to be properly defined - to shine from within, the energy weaving through my coat. I already have energy that would be boundless to a mortal, at the least, and unfathomable at the most, but the energetic sensation working its way through me, warming me and invigorating me like battle rush... it is indeed divine!

"Do I need to point out just how meaningful that is?" Reason grumbled.

"I'm afraid you already have, dear Reason," I said, smiling and imagining those blue eyes as crimson.

He smirked, and the smirk was the same. It was captured so well that if Reason's eyes were indeed the correct shade, I would not be able to tell my beloved apart from Reason. 

"So I'm only dear to you now? That's very disappointing, I thought we had something special-"

"Wait!" I drew back, the feel of magic warming me in my small moment of panic and confusion. "Are you, an aspect of my own mind, flirting with me?!"

Reason cleared his throat. "I'm as accurate as you imagine Sombra."

"That does not make it any less odd," I harrumphed, pouting.

The only difference in behavior between Sombra and Reason made itself known: Reason's will did not melt at the sight of my pout. I pouted harder. Reason looked on with apathy and magic boiled within me as this cosmic injustice played out.

"Do you remember what he said to you about pondering?" Reason arched an eyebrow in amusement and looked on with those chilly blue eyes that captured the twinkling of the lights above us - the ones that compelled me upward - so that mischievous reflections glinted in his eyes.

Somberness settled over us both once more, cold breezing by as we stood inside this nothingness.

"I do," I said quietly, Sombra's words coming back to me in great waves. As each bit was recalled with new clarity, I felt myself glow a bit brighter, yet the light held no true color yet... and it looked like it should have color of some kind. My dark mane, sparkles dancing in it, rippled with renewed conviction.

Reason didn't need to ask me what was on my mind in order to highlight the breadcrumbs that Sombra had laid out for me.

Do I understand what he meant knowing, what Sombra had been hinting at?

More than ever.

Reason smiled Sombra's smile as the echo of that thought faded.

Do I still trust Sombra?

Of course. With anything.

Reason nodded, bangs slipping in the way of his eyes as he bobs his head in a brief nod. Only that smile - my Sombra's smile - splinters the relatively unpunctuated darkness around us.

"Everything from here on out is nothing even a mental figment of yours can aid in. There's no reason not to trust yourself from here forward."

Reason faded gently into the darkness as though there had been no degree of separation between the two. Only his parting gesture - a slightly flirtatious smirk, one that was undeniably honest - still lingered in my mind while the air from the space he had occupied stirred. Only the echo of a voice that felt like neither Sombra's - as Reason or himself - or my own stayed behind to offer last words. They were in the wry tone that both Sombra and I favored before it, too, faded - even though it felt almost incomplete to begin with, like a whisper.

What have you always had, the half-voice questioned, and only given up once?

It was no riddle, despite the delivery, yet, it was still something for me to ponder. I tilted my head to the side quizzically and stared off into the distance as my mane continued its silent movement. The answer was not love. My life had not always been filled with that, whether it be the love of family, the love of myself, the love Sombra has for me, or some other variation. It was not something I gave up actively either.

With no more company, I allowed my thoughts to wander to any memory. Over three thousand years of life had left me with an amazing amount of experience and an immortal mind allowed me to recall almost anything.

Above me, those lights still twinkled, and their light felt-

My eyes narrowed in thought. They felt exactly like the lights in my last dream...

And the light in the last dream... it had the same peculiar feeling. I recalled how uplifting I felt despite the distance between us. I knew not how long a journey to reach them would be, but I was prepared to endure the hardships of a long flight. Hope that I would reach what I sought in the end felt as though it ran in my veins, as thick as my own blood. My heart leapt a little at the thought of it-

At the the thought of hope-

Almost gasping, my eyes widened. I held a forehoof closer to my muzzle. The glow that I had been emitting shone brighter and was gravitating toward the start of settling into a proper color - a lighter one, it appeared. Describing the light as 'divine' would not truly capture what it was like. The light of a god was one that came from them and shined outward, through magic, fur, and bone. Thus it suited each individual by being unique. Mine was not a garish radiance that could be likened to the sheen of gems or the blaze of fire. It was eye catching - whether it was illusion or true, focusing on anything else was a little harder the more I concentrated on myself and this feeling. The world around me seemed darker in contrast.

Hope. That word's echo still strong in my mind, my own voice carrying it, held its own kind of power - though in a purely figurative way. This did not enhance divinity, but realization was more often than not a catalyst. Epiphanies in the right moments meant things that could define a life. Cutie marks were one such example. Divinity was not so different in that broad likeness, even if cutie marks could relate to godhood, it did not work both ways. Sometimes only the slightest trace of one immortal's divinity could be observed within their mark.

Hope.

The word pulsed again, and magic with it. I felt more grow within me. Power swelled within my thin frame, as warm as the weight of summer air. 

I really have had hope for so long, haven't I?

The radiance around me brightened as I kindled it further. I swam with magic as my own heart felt elevated by my emotions. My mind too, roamed as it pondered everything meticulously. 

All my life, I have had hope - or at least, almost all my life. As a filly, it was I who never gave up on adventures and everything beyond mountains, rivers, and valleys. I savored and lived every bit of those places, wondering at each and every thing I could hope to see. Even when the sun set on the land, I had never been afraid. Adventure only waited among a darkened world's lands, and mystery in the creatures whom daylight shunned. I had never felt more at home wrapped in secrets, starlight, and a void dotted with lights that bore down upon the world more than ever then, shrouding it...

It was decidedly a white glow. This was how I felt in the nights when I was a child wandering about new forests and telling my always-princess sister which way to go as I stayed by her side. I was quiet except for all the times that I told her with smile that cut past shadows and caught the glow of fireflies, that I would be the brave warrior. I would be the brave one and lead her through the dark. All she had to do was follow my voice. She need only stay close to me and make no sound, like I did. She was scared, but not I. I felt as though I were aglow with happiness as I watched a world bathed in black, and yet I was more hidden then ever. I loved that.

With each recollection, the glow grew brighter and I could feel my active, moving magic begin to sort through itself before going through yet another metamorphosis and allowing myself access to a greater sea of raw power that came with the enhancements my divinity would be undergoing. This was not change, nor was it simple. Upgrade was tame, but solid term. This is not ascension.

My thoughts steer abruptly back to hope, and I let them dive wildly into memory again.

I had only given up hope once. The path to it startled gradually, of course. That was when I had clung to it more than ever; my downward spiral furthered after the events in the Crystal Empire when I thought that there had been a chance to escape the suffocation and sluggishness of everything...

Momentarily, I saw the bright glow waver, its white hue dimming for a brief second.

...in times like those, the years after Discord's imprisonment, before my own, and even before that, when I was in the Tribe's lands... my own world, dear Sol, was unreachable. I yearned to see it again, but found myself unable to access it not only from a lack of sufficient power and skill, but I felt it drifting away from its master.

But...

Since I've found myself caught up with Sombra, I feel more like myself than ever. Nopony else has made me feel like he does. I feel hope again, I feel myself trying to push through tears out of the want to be happy again, instead of out of need. I have been beaming around him and taking steps I was unable to, and would have been unable to in the company of another.

I can talk to somepony and... Oh, it means so much when it's him. Everypony talks, fewer listen, and even fewer understand. Sombra understands. He's seen me smile and laugh and cry. I feel better. I really, truly feel better, or at least I'm starting to. I'm getting there. I'm not stuck. 

I feel more hopeful than ever, and not because this feels like a winning battle. It most certainly does not... but... I inhale to calm myself a little and watch myself glow brightly, mane rippling energetically, and as the seconds pass I glow brighter and it appears almost lost in the light. But that does not feel so wrong either. I may - and maybe Sombra shares this sentiment - not feel like this is a winning battle, but that does not mean it is unwinnable.

Flaring my wings instinctively, I draw another breath. There's all this magic swarming within and so much that needs to take place. I yearn to fly.

...I wonder if I have given Sombra hope as well.

He trusts me and he's happy. His panic attacks have been soothed instead of him just suffering through each one. Surely that gives him hope?

Putting my hoof to the invisible ground I stand upon, I light my horn and put the vast sea of magic to a more obvious use, and find that the turquoise glow is now drowned by the brighter, new shade. With that noticed, I work my magic and try to sense any workings of this place, magic and will working in tandem until the ground dissolves beneath me. And then, I look up to the lights shining above - and yet none as brightly as myself - and take off with a burst of speed and accelerating from there. My flight trail - a magic shared by pegasai and Alicorns - is no longer small streaks of white lightning in a spark-laden dance as they trace spider web like patterns at random. Instead, I leave only a wide stripe of pure, luminescent white on my journey upward.

Now it is I who am the brightest light in the dark.



...



I woke up glowing. My entire body radiated a light whiter than snow, as though I were like my sister in all the fanciful artistic depictions of my sister radiating sunshine and poised as a pony's image of perfection. I was not perfection. I was very real, as was the light around me. The magic poured out of my body, surrounding me with it until I was engulfed in the glow that was far larger than myself. The mirrors of the cabin were blind, bright reflections of my magic and all basked in the glow. Just like in my dream, the world around me looked much darker.

Drawing a nervous breath, my mind raced with things that I should do. My entire body was bursting with energy, wanting to fly as fast as I could or attempt to move mountains with my magic - I needed to perform some feat, to triumph! This must be put to use! I had already been awake for ten seconds before I noticed my mane. As lovely as it was, I had grown beyond simply wanting to stare at the deep blue mass of Alicorn hair and try to count how many purple highlights it had whenever I was bored.

Except, I thought, running a forehoof through it as I always liked to, it is quite clear why I missed it now, among all the light...

My mane was the purest white. It was glittering and brilliant, its flow both smoother and more aggressive - it was practically lashing in the magical discharge that I both produced and expelled. Snow was filthy in compassion to this.

I heard myself gasp and yearned to examine this change further and soak in the memory, but the energy to dwarf the greatest magical engines and entire kingdoms' worth of ponies - at the very least - demanded I go elsewhere and urged be forward. I had such impulse to run out the door, but let all my instinct take over, recalling my last divine feats. I ended up breaking the door. Really, I hadn't meant to - I had almost fallen into it, brushing it with my wither - as a warrior I must be aware of my own strength - and instead the door was unmade with a crash like a clap of thunder and fell to ashes. Before I could even estimate how much was left of it, those too had dissolved to nothingness.

My impulse to move was proving to be more overwhelming with each passing second. My heart hammered in my chest and my mind could not stop racing with thoughts of just how free I was, and how I should not be trapped in this metal - oh, I should run, bound, and soar! There were things to be done; so much to do - ah, how could I stand still like this?

I galloped down the halls with as much speed as I would permit myself, relieved that I hadn't torn the floor up with my burst of speed that only let me be seen as a blur of inky hues and dazzling white, like a shooting star. And yet, there was no telling how long this burning urgency and blessing of power would last - it had to be used, and fast!

...And was today not the seventh...?

Gulping air, I prepared to use the royal voice - the voice of the Alicorns - and summon Cady and Shining without rending them deaf in case the voice was amplified as well. It would be impossible for me to be keeping all of my power out of the most everyday acts but it was at least worth a shot.

"CADANCE AND SHINING ARMOR! I REQUEST YOUR PRESENCE ON THE DECK AT ONCE! THE ISLE MUST BE OPENED! I AM PREPARED FOR DEPARTURE!"

The entire ship careened under the reverberating power of my voice. The floor underhoof, thick and metal-wrought quaked as though it were less than paper. My stomach lurched, my eyes widened, and even I flinched at the abnormally thunderous effect that had been lent to something as simple as the voice. Ignoring my ringing ears - something that had never happened before - and spinning head, I tried to collect myself before chasing after the sound of two sets of hoofsteps through the aftermath.



...



The breeze blowing across the deck was warm and carried the scents of far-away lands, warm and ignorant to the world's happenings. While the scents were faint and pleasant, I did not waste time dwelling on it. There were important matters at hoof and this was something that I would not dismiss - today I would dive into the same fray that Sombra had.

I would need both Cadance and Shining's help to keep the ship running. There were small reserves of magical helium substitute in case anything unfortunate occurred, but stars know I wished to preserve that for as long as possible. Shining would usually be the one maintaining the ship itself or standing and waiting for an order every time I strolled by as my unsmiling and currently glowing self, mane of glittering white flowing behind me. Today was an almost surprising exception, his blue eyes were looking towards Cadance who was trying to look slightly serious. She failed utterly in that regard - hints of a giddy, if nervous smile showed on her face and she kept sneaking glances at the 'book' tucked under her wing that were so obvious, even Shining Armor was able to put the meaning together.

"Cady, you didn't-" Shining began, tone like that of a usual wet blankets's. I resisted clearing my throat in mild annoyance.

"I did," Cadance confesses, tone quick and firm, though her usual melodic chirpy tone - the one she uses when she blurts such things as this - was still easily heard.

"It's the end of the world-" Shining begins again, his usual easy-going tone replaced by an almost intense, scolding one that was ill-suited for his usually goofy and carefree voice.

"Near-end," I corrected coolly, eyes flicking from husband to wife aloofly.

"-and she's concerned about getting high?" He jabs a forehoof in Cadance's direction and Cadance merely cups her wing around the 'book' further, clutching it to her side like it were a cherished foal.

"Cadance, may I inquire if that is exactly what you were planning?"

She fidgeted with the little box, magic aglow as she debated her course of action. "Uh, after, well... You're going to need me to, y'know, get the gate open and after that..."

Cadance trailed off a bit nervously, her smile faltering. Unlike Twilight Sparkle and Shining Armor, she never resorted to sheepish gestures to get on my good side or win ponies over with excessive modesty and cheap gestures. The latter is the more bearable, for at least it is easier to see the insincerity in that, and less bothersome.

"As a grown mare, Cadance is able to do what she pleases, as strange as her desire may seem, it isn't one I judge harmful. With Sombra gone, and I chasing after him within the dimension hidden in that-" I lifted a forehoof in clear indication of the Isle's large crystal that loomed ominously around our comparably small airship. "-there will be nopony to maintain this operation. Yet, the both of you are well aware that you are only supposed to be temporary backup. If things are too serious or suspicious you are to flee immediately."

Instantly, my dire tone worked like magic and Cadance smiled no more, but stared at me solemnly with a look that reminded me of dear Sombra; something almost enigmatic flashed in those eyes that were unable to hide anything from me. There was something she wasn't quite ready to say - what it was about, I haven't a clue.

With a curt nod and a brief wave of my forehoof, I dismissed Shining Armror who trotted back to the ship's interior without question. Once he left, I felt myself relax somewhat. While I remained unsmiling, my expression softened when it was just Cadance and I. 

"We have work to do," I said softly, Sombra on my mind no matter who it was I looked upon. I would find him. If anypony could survive anything so dire as the environment I envisioned behind that gate, it was he.

And I just had to find him...

Cadance nodded, set her box aside and walked with me. Her face was contorted with mild pain and determination as she lit her horn with blue and screwed her eyes shut, searching for something deep within herself. I watched quietly as her chest heaved and she clenched her jaw, wincing. Purple smoke streamed from under her eyelids and she made a small, pained noise and I observed her muscles tense with the strain she was putting herself through. Never had I observed an equine with such a capacity for light magic variations. My own mother, the world's greatest light mage was the only exception. Twilight Sparkle was but a vessel for power, and as impressive as she is for a mortal, she lacks much. Cady, however is deeply rooted in love magic, complimenting it as it compliments her.

Her horn swirls with dark aura and the äerint before us gradually begins to shift, and at a painstakingly slow pace. I maintain my glowing aura of power and my white mane ripples a bit impatiently as I look on, my gaze traveling between the gradually opening entrance and Cadance, whose breathing is shallower with the strain that she puts on herself. Crystal creeps away, peeling away like paint. The noise it makes - various scratching sounds, a product of Cadance's lack of skill - is far less pleasant than the simple rustle of paint chips that fall to the ground and crunch underhoof almost like leaves.

If I could assist, I would, but I lack any traces of dark magic in me. Twilight Sparkle picked them up from her time in the Empire and from being around Sombra and my sister. I know that Tia must have picked up traces of the magic sometime after my banishment, when a couple of artifacts had surfaced. She has never been as careful or intrigued by magic as I have, but I don't think she wouldn't have tried a bit of tampering if she thought it would protect ponies. She's hardly tempted to delve into things otherwise. It is neither a passion or something that is feasible for a mare like herself.

Still, I would try to offer my friend any assistance if needed. Mistakes could not afford to be made here, and if they were, the weight would not be one I think Cady could bear easily - and even if she could, I wouldn't let her. Maybe that's something very silly of me to say, but she is my friend and I think that this is something a friend - at least a good one - should do.

Worry existing in equal measure as energy - both physical and magical - I watched with eager eyes as a hole to some other place grew and recalled how Sombra had commanded the äerint so skillfully, a dramatic gate thrice his size and edged with burning flame had appeared with much less effort for him. That had been no surprise, he was a demon and shared more with this cold substance than a pony in ways, no matter how far above both he was.

Finally, exhausted and panting, Cadance managed to wrench a gap that could accommodate me and my large wingspan - perhaps another pony as well, but that was pushing it. If all went remotely as Sombra and I planned, he would open it from the other side and Cadance would not need to struggle to keep this open as she struggled to stand right now. Before she had the chance to collapse, Cadance found herself caught in my forehooves. The state she in is honestly quite pitiful: what's left of her long curls are limp, her brow is damp with sweat, her crown sits crooked upon her head, her legs shake weakly, and her eyes are unfocused.

"How long?" I ask, voice steady and low.

Cadance wheezes out a breath. "I tried dabbling in it a bit, after the incident with the body-less lich, Opal Charm. I wanted to know more about Sombra and the strange things-" She began to cough and I held her closer, deciding against fetching Shining. Time was something I was running short on and it was not my place to tell him something so personal.

"He gave me a book," Cadance continued hoarsely. "Or what was left of one... I was just a little curious. The power never quite left, I think."

"Are you sure?"

"Not really," she admitted, head swaying. "It hurts when I use it, but Sombra and I-"

"What did you do?" Cadance bit her lip, noting that my tone was suddenly colder - but it was out of concern, not malice.

"We talked." She coughed again. "There's not enough for me to be corrupted, and I don't use it enough. He says that if..." She looked to her precious little box with, her gaze clouded over.

"Sombra said...?" I prompted gently, and nudged the weak demigod.

"There wasn't enough for it to do anything, yeah?" Lucidity returned to her gaze temporarily. "So he was telling me... before he left for that place." Her foreleg trembled when she pointed and I tried to mind both the weary mare and the time I would have left.

The glow around me, white and powerful, intensified with anticipation. "He was telling you what?"

"It should be purged. A few more years in the Empire. A few more Fairs. Nopony has to know." She sighed, and no weight was released. Fatigue consumed her features. "Luna."

I looked at her more closely. "Yes?"

"Auntie. Cousin. Luna... could you bring him back?" She drew another breath, and with it, her chest shook and trembled. "I know. It's stupid. He's powerful and living magic and so... unstoppable?"

"Undaunted?" I suggest.

"Yeah. Undaunted. He's strong enough for this, even if it hurts so much." In between more coughs I hold her tighter and in the rough sound, I think I hear her curse in her first language. Her tone is suitable for a curse, so a curse it must be.

"Hellfire," she wheezes and I loosen my grip to help her. "He is this." Cadance taps her horn. "It's so strange."

"I suppose," I murmur absentmindedly. Time ticks away...

"He's scared of just... nothing. I know you love him, Luna, but he can be vicious too. You know that, don't you?"

I nodded. She thought Sombra to be devoid of fear; I had no reason to correct her, I only knew better. 

"Yeah, well... I like him. He's weird and stubborn, but he's also kind of funny in an equally weird way. Once I got to know him, it just became difficult to imagine him not being there. Sombra's probably stubborn enough to will himself to exist forever, immortality or not."

I do not laugh at her joke, but nod for her to go on. My magic busies itself with some shape changing. I must be ready for battle. Summoning my necklace from my cabin with a brief flash of my horn is easy, and the weight is comforting, but also shifting. 

The usual turquoise of my horn is hidden under the intensity of the admittedly beautiful white. I look around me and my focus on the gate aside, the world seems so much dimmer, and in the back of my busy mind I wonder at this. Wonder soon slips deeper into the reaches of my mind for later as I help Cadance stand. She wobbles, but manages to stay upright no matter how dizzy she looks. Her pink body is slim in a rather delicate way - she isn't as used to the grand adventures and physical tests that Sombra and I endure, nor do I think it will be. Her spirit is loving and welcomed, but not suited for the harsher things that must be endured. She is the Princess of Love, but I still see a filly in her, and it makes me smile - her and I are not so different there.

My necklace shifts, and I welcome a weight far more familiar than that of such practical jewelry - my armor! A foal-like glee runs through me alongside the vast new reserves of magic I have yet to explore the potential of as midnight plates unfold from nothing and cling to me. This alteration is one of my proudest works. The armor is not bulky and is suitable for flight, long travel, and my quick combat while being able to bear many magical hits. My legs are encased in this suit that is but an extension of myself that burdens me not. 

Normally, I would have my lovely boots transformed and combat-ready as I am, but I left them in Canterlot where they lay unreachable. The crescent moon emblem that adorns the necklace, neither carved, painted, nor inlaid has shed its lesser form and now sits as a proud gem, clearer than polished diamond and reflecting the brilliance of my glow so that Cadance is speckled with rainbow light where she stands, gaping at me with something beyond awe. Inside is a midnight-dark and foggy mist - the Tantabus on display in a useless, but breathtaking palimpsest floated about, passive and non-threatening. 

I know that were we not friends and princesses, she would be a mortal gaping at me and looking at me with eyes that saw only perfection and when I saw only myself reflected in such worshipful eyes. She looked at me with reverence, yes, but it was not that of a 'mere mortal's'. I know she is from a superstitious background and she unfolds a wing as minutes pass so slowly, melting into a drag as my desperation to be soars within me. Her purple feather tips move to her chest and trace a small symbol resembling a 'C' with a quick gesture upon her chest.

I know better, it is no 'C' but a crescent moon that she marks herself with and the smallest bashful smile slips out. "What is it that you see, Cady?"

"A goddess," she whispers, "You really are a goddess. My friend... but oh-" She ends her sentence by bobbing her head, short manecut bobbing with it. Had it been a bow, but I would have stopped her, but it was not such. Cadance was merely expressing her beliefs. 

"By you, Celestia, all of Equestira and gods around, Auntie Luna, Sombra may be the most unshakable pony there is, but please bring him back. Please."

She marks herself again and as a breeze blows by she looks at me wide-eyed, awe still there, surprise too, but she looks like she might swoon. I will not patronize her by suggesting she sit down - she has made it far and she is not my equal in ways Sombra is, my ultimate equal, but a comrade all the same.

I offer her a nod as solemn as her gesture, briefly recalling that Tia told me a younger Cady did the same - a different mark, of course - upon seeing her face to face for the first time.

"...Why is your face uncovered, Luna? You're going into battle-"

"I forgot my crown, which doubles as my dear helm," I replied simply, "but regardless of how often I've usually decided to forgo it, this was intentional on my part." I give her a serious look just short of grim. "I want the wretch who harmed my family to see my face, and to know my voice."

"That's, like, wow... Luna, that's hella cool," Cady squeaks. Her strange word - this 'hella' she speaks of - is something I have heard Shining Armor speak is not one I know, but coupled with 'cool' I know that Cady is speaking high praise indeed, and it is impossible not to crack a playful grin at her awkwardness.

"Then I suppose that what will occur within this pocket world will also be 'hella cool' - did I say that right? - because there is a demon to save and a very despicable flank to unmake. May we find one another again, and you enjoy that extremely strange substance you take such pleasure in smoking! Battle awaits!"

Without another word, I plunge into the dark, hope blazing within me, and from me as thoughts of Sombra return stronger than ever. I hear the gate close behind me, the grating scream of crystal upon crystal and find myself in a dark world.
> Chapter 47: Wishing God Among Oblivion's Torment
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Sombra:


The air of this place was so thin that when I came to, in physical form once again, I found myself gasping and coughing in an attempt to breathe. My heartbeat was racking my chest and paranoia's usual rottenness make myself feel like I'm looking from the inside out at a world that...

I frown and push myself up, almost falling down. The familiar sensation of pain has already sunk in. Most of it is the tear of whatever muscles I damaged cutting out the teeth stuck so deep in me that no telekinesis could withdraw each literally bloody thing. The knowledge that there would be a scar... and an unsightly, mangled one at that and the possibility of some permanent damage to more than my skin hurt even more. My pride was more intact than ever, but the reality of a scar like that was a blow that I hated to bear.

I unsheathed Fate and began to lit my horn. This place was really just a void and even less exciting than Niflhel, but Niflhel hadn't been an endless stretch of something with only a murky possible horizon and no defined sky or ground. Texture was nonexistent. Even the descriptions of 'monochrome' and 'gray' were grossly extravagant.

I need enemies with better tastes in interior design, less cannibalistic desires, and less desire to mar my beauty because I've rarely been more sold on the desire for revenge than after what has happened now. My ears perk at the sound of me growling at the very thought. Even sound seems out of place here, and I eye what little I have for surroundings carefully. Any feel of magic is as distant and stagnant as they could get. My senses feels barren, which is an outrageous contrast to air of Niflhel, which had nearly crackled with the amount of energy there.

The light of my horn isn't very strong right now and my breaths come in heaves that make my sides ache even more.

Reaching into my mind and beyond that, I latch a special kind of magical grip onto the seething resolve of my temper and twist some of it - no, not in the way of mind control - so that I can siphon energy from it by rearranging extraneous parts into something far more useful. This is far from my limit physically or magically, but I'm going to be needing power in excess. One of my favorite last resort tricks is to feed temper and magic together into something terrifying to any who dare go against me. My anger is nearly unlimited, but my magic isn't and I could never use this infinitely - stress takes hold after a while, and so does mental exhaustion. It only worked with anger too; there wasn't anything else I could channel into battle.

Sheathing Fate again, I give my surroundings another good look. I can never be too careful. 

The state of the blood on Fate means I've been here for six days and the caked gore on my coat tells the same story. When all my life in the Empire was spent around death, I had to make do with it and develop some more unusual skills. Stars could guide navigators and the sun could be used in place of a clock, but I hardly ever saw the sun. Time was told on other things for me, and chiefly that meant I used the decay I found around myself.

Still panting, I stood as strongly as I could and waited for my head to clear a bit. I've gone through far worse in much less fit conditions but the stunt I pulled to get here and the lingering haze of my comatose state weren't going to be doing me any favors.

I took off trotting - the fastest I dared to push myself. The spot I arrived in was marked with a few droplets of my blood from some of my wound opening again. I bit back any discomfort that was unable to fade easily and kept trotting, vigilance increasing with each step as I eyed everything warily, gaze sharpening by the moment and the familiarity of paranoia finally etching itself into my shifty gaze.



...



I drift aimlessly and see nothing. Hoofprints and any other signs of lingering life are nonexistent. A while ago, I casually note that the temperature is almost as cold as the void where I was banished. Other than that, I keep my eyes open and ears pricked forward as the back of my mind works on a few back up plans, I'm careful to scrutinize any detail I can locate.

There is a trace of magic here. 'Slight' and 'lingering' would be generous descriptions for the state its in. Whatever was here has little power or hasn't been in this stretch of picturesque nothingness for centuries.

Wanting to draw attention to myself so that I can lure whatever Alicorn was trapped in here into the open, I manifest another one of my crimson cloaks once more. It helps cover up the bleeding from my wound, which is helpful for the next part. I pull up the hood and withdraw Fate again, dismissing a small wave of dizziness and reshape the blade into a crude staff.

I exaggerate my wounded gait to a pronounced, but realistic limp. My cloak, which is bright in contrast to everything, betrays none of my features and covers up an obvious wound; the blood is like a seal between the fabric, mixing with my coat. The severity of my wound was up for a guess to any who observed me - not only would they have to do so from a distance to remain unseen, but the color helped hide the blood.

I looked like nothing more than a mysterious, foolish, and way too out of place stranger of indeterminate species hobbling about with a staff. It was a convincing disguise to all but the most detail-obsessed when it came to all things related to wounds. 

Now all I had to do was wait and wander.

I counted an hour passing under my breath, muttering each number in as many different languages and dialects I knew to keep myself occupied on my walk as well as ensure that if I was heard, it would be harder to guess other information about me. I'm a polyglot and know both dead languages and ancient dialects, I can at least put them to use and make them a fine distraction. While I've rarely had to speak anything other than some form of Equuish, knowing eight languages never hurt.

Once I was done counting minutes, I decided to play with a little bit of my magic and probe my internal clock to better gauge the passing time. No proper moonlight, sunlight, shadows, or decay didn't mean I had to be completely oblivious to something so mundane.

I felt the Alicorn sneaking up on me not long after the seventh hour had passed. Their magic was massively depleted; I sensed a yawning gap in their being where thriving magic should be. There was more power than any demigod but barely enough to even compare to Luna's magic - Luna's magic when I first met her, that is.

Soon, I was standing with my back to them in the muted outline that passed for shadows here. Feigning the body language of panic and gradual shift into shock when debating fight or flight was simple. I'm not an actor like Luna, but manipulation and deception are their own arts.

"Who are you?"

The voice was male and older than me. If it belonged to a mortal, I'd guess the speaker was in their older forties. I didn't bother to turn around and shook a little - enough to seem a bit shaken, but nothing else. Subtlety wasn't beyond me and there was both uncertainty and a threat in that tone. Whoever this was, they weren't going to conceal how paranoid they were.

"We have never known any who have worn a cloak like yours, stranger. You are no delusion. Again, We ask: who are you?"

Royal, then and with a Continental accent. That narrows down the list of possible survivors significantly and eliminated the ruling family of Aerogard instantly.

"I'm neither your friend or your enemy, yet I'm not one whose company is given often or easy to keep."

He paused, and the shadow wavered. I caught his wings rustling. "We see you are northern, then. Yet, you sound rather strange. Are you one of Sapphira's Crystalline subjects? Your magic means that you are not of her race, so the borders of the Empire must be finally open. Which of her kin rules now?"

"I'm not from the Crystal Empire, but I'll grant you northern."

I've been looked at with suspicion enough to feel when such an expression is being directed at me. 

"We suppose there is some sense in that... you are a unicorn." There was a long pause. "No ordinary unicorn would be able to make it to this place."

"Well, I'm not exactly an ordinary unicorn then, now am I?" I'm unable to resist a taunting tone. It isn't like this god is my equal. Luna is my only peer.

My change from tricky to mocking in tone sparks something, I fell him move and allow him to swiftly pull away my hood before whirling around to face him with more speed than he anticipated from me.

"Demon!" he screams.

'He' is an Alicorn barely taller than Celestia with a shorter horn and a dark coat of inky blue so dark that it is almost black. Only white speckles across his exhausted form dotting his visible ribs, along with the other contours extreme malnourishment that have been made visible are able to show that there are hints of a clearer color in the darkness of his coat. Part of me instantly wishes that he looked a little more like some artistic depictions made him with a coat like the starry midnight sky that Luna perfected. I've seen more than enough starving creatures in my life already.

I miss her sky... the next time I see it, I'm going to have her point out every constellation all over again.

'He' is Noctus Galaxia, high king of the Everfree and Empire of the Alicorns that sprawled across the southern and northern continent, starting from the southern border of the Crystal Empire. He is one of the famed 'World-Tilters', the first Element of Generosity, and the God of Wishes.

I can't say I'm impressed, but Luna loves him and that's okay enough for me to deal with this stranger.

His once short curly mane of dark purple - that's how he has been depicted for ages, and for the life of me, I can't understand why he would have settled with just one manestyle; even I would change mine up just a little bit once in a while if I lived as long as he has - has grown down to his knees and hangs limp and tangled in places. The few sparkles in it are dull. His tail is even longer.

He is without his usual chest plate, crown, and boots, but there are other ways to identify him - his mark, a large wishing star adorns his flank, a trail of smaller stars behind it. Tears shine in the corners of his purple-gray eyes that look tired beyond anything I care to say and his mouth his curled into an angry snarl - not an expression that suits most equines, if I do say so myself - when he sees my smug smirk of victory.

"You disgusting and unnatural mistake!" he spits. His venom is personal and vengeful, but like his snarl, I can hear that his voice was once suited for laughing. "Of course there are more of you pests! You are all the world's evil balled into one, creatures of malice and greed - every worse thing spread across many false souls and bottled into one body! He that calls himself Umbra spoke of things..." I notice his voice catch for a moment. "Things that he spread across the world right under the eyes of-"

He looks away when emotion - old emotion - overwhelms him. As a result, his voice becomes choked before turning on me again, hatred so personal flashing in his eyes as I maintain a bored expression - one that triggers disgust from him.

I allow him to tackle me. Everything about him is drained from what he once was, magic and all. Still, he's very solid and I need to bite back a soft growl as I give him a mild glare. He doesn't exactly have me in the most comfortable of positions either. One powerful forehoof rests on my throat. His eyes aren't that of somepony who is weak; he'll crush it if he wants to. Smothering me in any way would bring him delight.

The other is near my wounded flank, pressing down on it just enough to let me know that he has me pinned down and will gladly shatter my bone. Obviously, he has no clue that all my magic still works here since I'm a creature of dark magic.

Am I impressed? Not really. This is the fourth time an Alicorn has tried to kill me. I'm not counting Umber and I'm certainly not going to count every time that some creature has attempted to maim, assault, wound, annoy, inconvenience, or just inflict any kind of harm because that would bring everything into the five digits, minimum.

This is honestly just routine at this point. I need a punch card for every attempt to do something against me because the only thing that's depressing about this is how little I'm rewarded for permitting the majority of such entities to live. If ponies or any other damned species knew how much energy it took not to murder everypony that annoyed me like some kind of blood-mad savage then they would consider me the nicest thing to ever exist, because that is something I am indeed capable of. 

Breaking out of prison that one time I happened to be arrested last fall - and thankfully while disguised - was a bit more fun than this. Even then, I was able to gather evidence that enough members of the royal guard in Equestria are closeted bisexuals who can't handle my charming silver tongue and roguish smirks that allow me the rare amusement of flirting out of situations, as hollow as such behavior would be for me in such a situation.

I got scarred for this. My beautiful body was nearly ruined for me attempting to save this ingrate.

There isn't even a country that creates flattering wanted posters of my handsome Mafia alter ego and conniving disguise, Wild Card. Sure, it's really obvious to anypony that's met me that I'm the stallion they want - but with those illustrations? Ugh, I'm almost tempted to let them get a photo of me just once. It'd be for a good cause.

I look up at Noctus with a look of apathy so unrefined it communicates only one thing: I. Am. Done.

He doesn't catch it, and instead leans a little closer to me, since I apparently can't perceive any signs of hostility from his actions towards me so far.

"We have no idea how you ended up in this prison, but you might as well be the spawn of Umbra himself. Your species alone is a cause for you to die - you and however many else are within that twisted mind of yours."

"Whatever, Nocty," I manage. Being tackled by an Alicorn isn't as fun when the Alicorn isn't an individual who styles themselves as my 'lover'. This time it's just a bit more painful then I'd like to let on. That doesn't mean apathy still can't prevail. I don't have it in me to be truly irritated with him. Not yet, at least.

He's looking at me with something between extreme disgust and even more extreme confusion. It's not a good look for him, either. "What...?" he mumbles before tearing himself away from my gaze, and I feel that in place of his depleted magic is confusion made tangible. 

"Do you even have a name, he who is less than beasts?" The way he addresses me isn't spiteful anymore, I can see it in his eyes that he was never much of a fighter like Luna is. It doesn't mean that there isn't some hate there, or something like it I still have yet to unravel. Somepony can hold all the hatred they want without the aggression or drive common in superior, hardy sorts. 

"My name isn't going to mean much to you."

His jaw clenches. "How arrogant of you. Either way, We will allow you one last mercy. Give Us one reason not to end your mortal existence, demon."

My laughter, dry and smug gets a look of surprise from him. In the back of his eyes, a hint of anger at my insolence, blazing there. The pressure around my throat tightens. I cough instead of fighting. Sure, I could escape this if I wanted to, but I'm enjoying myself far too much.

"One reason? And here I thought there'd be far more challenges at the world's end. I'll give you two, and you'd better like it."

"You are ordering Us, demon?! Why-"

I give a lopsided grin with all the arrogance Luna loves. "Celestia and Luna."



...



"What is your name?" Noctus asks. Even when he was sitting, I was still swallowed by the shadow he cast. Unlike when I was around Umber, there was no illusion of me being dwarfed, just the obvious fact of Alicorns being a tall species in front of me. He flares his wings around himself like a shield, and I watch feathers litter the ground before fading into oblivion. They're untended and have an almost decaying look about them, as they twitch nervously when he thinks I'm not watching. The magic that would have drifted around his feather tips as every written account of him notes is gone, leaving only shaggy feathers from a high god that was reduced to sneaking about oblivion.

"Sombra," I mumble, trying to shrug my cloak over the bruise where Noctus had almost crushed my windpipe after I said his daughters' names. If he thinks I'm going to forget this incident, he's thinking wrong. I shift subtlety, but awkwardly until that wound is covered and glare coolly at him. He doesn't notice. He's too busy looking at everything with wide-eyed disbelief and distrust.

'Everything' of course, would be me. Right now he's looking at Fate, now back to its usual form of a gore-covered, crystal-veined sword instead of a misshapen and hastily constructed, gore covered staff.

"Are there other Shadows? Are you the demon or the summoner using the name of the chief demon tormenting you? How many of them are within you? It has been ages since We last encountered your kind, and introductions have never gone particularly smoothly with your species."

"Probably because you're blatantly racist."

"Only because the first two members of your species were lethal at their kindest. The prejudice that carries on started after their deaths. Do not act as though you are innocent, no demon is. We are willing to communicate with you before noting whether you could be an exception to your species, Sombra the Strange."

"Damn right I am," I grumble. "And to answer your questions. It's just me, there have been no others since the Collapse. I'm the demon and Sombra is my real name, so don't question that. It's also just me in here, no vacant head-space and body-space. My body is not for rent, so don't you dare even think that either because I will mess you up."

Noctus nods slowly and gulps a little. He looks at me with confusion and apprehension, uncertain whether he should fear me for how I present myself, what I might be hiding, or how damned attractive I am. So far the only thing he's done for me is heal the bite wound Umber gave me as an apology for almost crushing my windpipe. It's still going to scar since the wound was too severe for there to not be one, and I wasn't able to access any healer for days, but the scar won't be as severe as it could have been. The fur would grow back, the flesh was mostly repaired, and yet it would always be clear that the marks hidden under a coat that I've yet to grow again that teeth made those marks.

He's saved my ass. Literally.

It isn't enough. I'm not going to let him get anywhere near my good side that quickly. I'm not even complain how all my sides are my good side.

I just sat a little straighter and pulled my hood up again. "Any other questions?"

"How old are you? How do you know of the Crystal Empire? We had no doubt that Sapphira's empire would be the last to survive. The power of the Heart is strong, and though she may be long gone, isolation and magic has done wonders for that land... or what is left of it."

"I'm twenty four. The rest of matters and complications about my age aren't important for now, but let's just say I stopped aging at twenty four. I've been around for a while, and I've known your daughters for a while too, but there's a lot of things that I don't want to go into. If you think that you'll be able to get any information I refuse to disclose from me, you won't. Everything ponies say I've done, I haven't. I know of the oh so special Rock Candy Kingdom because my summoner was Crystalline."

Noctus narrows his eyes, but doesn't look hostile. "'Been around for a while'... You are even more secretive than most of your kind. We suppose that you shall only tell us why when you see fit?" He doesn't bother to hide traces of displeasure with how little information I've offered him, but accepts my slight nod.

We may only be sitting a few paces away from one another, but the way Noctus looks at me shows that there might as well be a gorge between us, and one only I can see across. I can get a read on him, but he's unable to see anything beyond my aloofness and constant almost-frown that only increased the feeling of distance between us.

"We shall accept your desire for privacy, demon."

If he noticed me cringe upon being addressed only as 'demon' he didn't do anything to show it.

"You met the original demons?"

He furrows his brow and looks to recall something only he knows. "'Meet' is not how We would put it. Antumbra... We did not know him. Not personally. Penumbra was Lumina's demon-"

My eyes widen. I allow myself to interrupt him as soon as the name he says with such reverence - Lumina - and the word 'demon' come out of his mouth. "Lumina's demon?! What exactly do you mean?! If you want me to give answers about the world and your daughters, surely you understand that I'm in search of answers too? I need to know whatever it is that you have to say about Penumbra; that's a demon's name if I've ever heard it, and now it's a word-"

"We are aware," Noctus says. His tone is surprisingly calm in contrast to the distant, nervous look he always has. "Penumbra is indeed a word derived from her name. She is not a popular figure of legend; none of your kind are."

"Do I need to count how many times you say something racist toward me?"

His muzzle crinkles. "How unlike Antumbra, Penumbra, and Umbra you are, demon-"

"I told you my name."

He tilts his head to the side a little. "And We are used to knowing only the more typical and violent of your kind under your strange names. Penumbra, once she turned against those who had enslaved her, swore herself to be Lumina's weapon."

I cringed again and he was too lost in memory to notice and just continued on, nostalgia in his voice. "All of us were so young then..." Trailing off with a sigh, he started again. "Penumbra was a miserable entity. As horrific an entity as she was, she carried nothing but despair and sorrow. Living was a pain for her. She was traumatized enough from her ordeal and all the identity she was robbed from, being a demon, that she was able to rip herself and all within her away from her brutal life with the other demon of the time, Antumbra, who made the average raider appear like a foal in nature. She swore herself to protect young Lumina and aid our company, the original Elements, as Lumina's own high servant, willing weapon, and confidant."

I swallowed and shifted myself so that most of my growing fear could be hidden with the rest of my face. "Did Lumina use mind-?" 

I almost brought myself close to finishing before Noctus shook his head. Relief washed over me, some of the illusory weight in my chest disappearing. "Lumina is..." He sighs heavily. "Was... she is gone now... is she not?"

His tone as all the resignation of one condemned to eternal loneliness. Just because I've never felt lonely before doesn't mean that I can't recognize it. He's the only one left of his comrades - I'm sure that he knows it too. The only reason he would be left here is so survivor's guilt can take some toll on him. No legends speak of him as an especially glorious Alicorn in the way the others were known for their fantastic feats. I don't think a more fitting torture could be devised than letting a creature with a streak of dependence like that be the sole survivor. 

My silent nod only acts as a grim confirmation. His resignation only becomes clearer and he offers a choked sigh. Yet, I'm able to spot thankfulness in his gaze.

"...We suspected so... and the others?"

I nod again. They're gone.

His eyes water a bit, and I look away. It's the only privacy this place has. I give him no sign that I can still hear his choked breaths or that I can use my ability to sense magic to know that he's hunched over, like he could mourn everything and everypony as though they were right in front of him with his untended and broken wings pulled around him like a wall.

I stare off into the void until he speaks up - it's sooner than I would've thought too, but he's had thousands of years to doubt whether any of the other Alicorns survived or didn't. I'm sure I just gave him nails to put in his coffin. 

"Do you want to hear the rest?"

Not bothering to make eye contact with him, I nod quietly.

"She died protecting Lumina, and everything that she disclosed to her was the basis for the knowledge of demons, aside from what could be gleaned of Antumbra. Her soul sits in the deepest depth of Tartarus now, alongside Antumbra and all that made them. I do not think you need a reminder of how your kind is always Tartarus-bound. Like the rest of your kind, she had fangs, a curved horn, and identified as no gender other than what she was called. Penumbra was utterly consumed by her emotions, in constant conflict with herself, and other demonic traits - like strange vocalizations and powers over the dark energy that shaped her - were about the only identity that creature had."

"Strange vocalizations?" I ignored the remark about being 'consumed by my emotions'. I'm moody, yes, but definitely not that. Maybe he was exaggerating her qualities, and maybe she really was like that. I wish I could know.

Noctus nodded and blinked back a few tears. "Yes. We know not if you would make the same ones, though your lot does not make the same calls of other equines at all. Each of you demons had some differences among you, certain powers were not shared between members, but that did not stop your kind from having common traits, like your growls, trills, and chatters. You see, whenever Penumbra - she preferred to be called Penny - was picked up and shaken a bit, she would make a noise like this-"

Using his forehooves, Noctus swoops me off the ground after lunging forward and to my immediate shock and displeasure, shakes me up and down a few times.

"HEY - rrow - PUT ME DOWN DAMMIT - rr-rrow-oow - GAH - grr-oow - STOP IT!"

He does, and I glare up at him, lips pulled into a snarl as a low growl rumbles in my throat.

His response is to look unfazed, and take his seat again, his face bearing a calm expression that doesn't fit the situation all that well, no matter how familiar he is with demons.

"It seems that you make a similar sound as well, Sombra. However, yours is less... surprised. It is worth noting that your pitch is lower too, but that is to be expected from a male of your kind, I would think. Honestly, your violent nature is in no way surprising-"

"And here we go with the constant racism!"

He has the nerve to pretend not to hear me. Ingrate. "-but it varies so much from the submissive temperament that Penny revealed herself to have and the complete lack of conscience that Antumbra had. He could not even recognize the existence of mercy, and any vile deed, he had done. He admitted it himself, boasting even though he was lacking. Only Umbra has rivaled him. And then there is you, Sombra." 

There he goes again, saying my name like it were a label that didn't fit me instead of what I was called. "You are so-"

"Just what about me?" I lift an eyebrow and make sure he's able to see my piercing stare from under my hood.

He shifts with slight discomfort and looks away just enough so that we're not making direct eye contact. "Your entire temperament. What I can observe of your nature... it is not like the others, yet you do not appear pony-like either. For a demon, you are very headstrong and independent. Neither of those are things your species is known for."

I just scowl. "Is that all?" I ask impatiently. Demon this and demon that. Does anypony other than Luna realize how uncomfortable it is for me? Or how they sound?

Of course they don't. 

Stretching his wings again, Noctus once again looks lost in thought. Truly lost. I don't make any attempt to talk to him and only appear colder while getting a closer look at his feathers. I felt that some of them were odd, and now I can see why. Some of the Alicorns of old whose wings would often grow to look like they were shrouded in magic, as his had been, had translucent feathers at the very edge of his wings. Now, they were dull and hollow looking. Thousands of years ago they would have expelled magic that clung to his feather tips and made it look like his wings dissolved.

It was honestly a sight that I would look forward to seeing outside of detailed drawings in long-burned ancient manuscripts. I just can't believe the sheer amount of traits lost to the Collapse. Luna, Celestia, and Tuna don't have this, assuming it isn't some effect of age. Entire physical traits died with every family. Entire races of ponies were...

I couldn't let those thoughts drift; they might find the Crystal Empire.

"We suppose it is all. Are you not aware of the nature of your own species?" His question is genuinely confused this time instead of tinged with any degree of prejudice. I doubt it will last long. "Your kind is created knowing things, and would that not include how you are nature's own weapons? There is no mortal being more dangerous or fearsome than a demon. Even We still fear what they can do if not disposed of quickly. Your skills are varied, your powers not to be trifled with, and your instability fearsome."

I was tempted to bite the inside of my cheek again instead of growling before I felt the still-injured skin from the last time I did that. "Were we all intended as weapons...?"

He nodded as if I had asked him something as obvious as whether I was the most beautiful thing in this world, and I managed to suppress my horror. I knew that my species was undesirable as a whole - I was prepared to be the last for all that and more - but all of us were used?

...It's impossible to not be reminded of the Crystal Empire and how every single one of them went through-

Did they all feel as violated as I-

What was it like for the ones that were constantly trapped and tortured? The ones that never saw a sky?

It's a relief he can't see my face clearly.

"Is something wrong, Sombra the Demon?"

"It's just Sombra," I growl. He flinches a little at the sound. No doubt from memories of Umbra and how if it weren't for him he wouldn't be wasting away in here, magicless. He'd have his wife, his kingdom, his daughters, his family, his world, his Element, and his Harmony if none of this ever happened. His eyes have nothing but regret written there.

And if none of this ever happened, I wouldn't exist. Luna and I would not be.

Neither would Mac, the Tribal Era, Starswirl, Onyx, Purple Eyesore, or anypony else this world knows like the mortal Element Bearers and their entire bloodlines. Who knows if Luna and Celestia would still raise and lower the moon and sun? Would they unravel their domains in the same way they did in this time?

"You still have not answered my question." His tone is rather fatherly now - which is surprising when it's directed at me. I don't like it either; family isn't something that I understand in the same way most creatures do, or need to understand.

"Why does it matter to you, Alicorn?"

"...Are you not trying to help me? If We have come across as cruel in any way, We do apologize. We have no fondness for your species, Sombra, but you have made an attempt to aid Us and bring news of Our daughters... is it not strange that We find ourselves even a little concerned for your being, strange one?"

I clench my jaw and allow myself some small revenge: "Celestia, Luna, Tuna, the two Alicorns of the dead worlds, and a mare of fire are all that's left. Contact with the west is virtually nonexistent for all but some trade and immigration. The world looks different as well. There's only two demigods. The Crystal Empire survived, but was plunged into a thousand year stasis and is only now opened again. The draconequui are reduced to one member, and his name is Discord. Almost everything has been forgotten. The Elements were wielded entirely by mortals, led by the demigod who is styled as the Princess of Friendship. Only four pony races survived the Collapse. If you think that that's even the tip of the iceberg to how different things are, you couldn't be more wrong."

Noctus looks like I did on the Sky Scraper when I was busy vomiting and unsure of exactly what was happening. I knew what vomiting was, just as he knew what I said and all the names I mentioned, but the way I used them baffled him just as I was unsure of why I would vomit so suddenly in the circumstances I was in. He even looked disgusted too; it wasn't surprising that he thought something was wrong when nearly everything I said was.

"Only Celestia, Luna, Neptune, Stolas, Elysium, and Helena...? No contact with...? Only four races...? By the Elements, you called Neptune 'Tuna'. We see that you are rather rude but only Luna calls him-"

He looks right at me and leans down like a large bird examining something at his talons. I glare back.

"Celestia and Luna, what became of them? How old are Our daughters? How did you, a mortal, learn of her name for him? And what went so wrong at the Crystal Empire? What demigod, immortal, or god plunged it into that kind of trap?"

"Your daughters are thirty two and nineteen, both are physically well. I've seen them both within the last year, however, they have little involvement in Alicorn culture - it's mostly dead."

Noctus brought a forehoof to his mouth and began to shake with something that could either be fear, worry, or being on the verge of tears. "D-Dead... ? Are they mentally well? What are you hiding from Us, demon?!"

I let my irises glint scarlet, an array of the mysterious runes flashing across them and watched Noctus make a choked noise.

"Demand nothing of me. I'm not your inferior or your peer, and I'm not mortal. I'm Sombra, the God of Knowledge. I know your daughters very well because my summoner used-" There's few things I hate saying more than that. "-me as a weapon against my will. Ask no more than this because I will hurt you for prying, no matter how much Luna loves you. My summoner used my intelligence - something you clearly don't associate with demons - and whatever luck I had to try and pull myself free from the deplorable circumstance that I lived in. Luna saved my life. I was the one who plunged the Empire into stasis as a mortal. I've only gained divinity and immortality recently, but it's stopped me from nothing. I have the mind to get what I want, and if my mind is set on it, I'll do all I can and more to ensure that I have a chance to get it."

Refolding his wings, Noctus dipped his head to the side and looked at me again. His breathing was quick. I noted that the tic he had in his right cheek muscle was acting up again. His eyes reflected my blurred silhouette and his torn emotions: fear upon realizing that everything I spoke and did made me a far bigger threat than he would have ever liked to acknowledge and confusion. Appearances are deceiving, and he had yet to figure out the honest parts of mine.

"How do you know Our daughters?" he repeated, voice brimming with suspicion.

"I know them in many ways," I say, flashing him a facetious smirk from under my hood, "but I'm more curious to which way you'd like to know how I know your daughters, hmm?"

He snorted at me and drew up to his full height quickly, royally glowering at me. It wasn't hard to see why nearly every mortal would prostrate themselves before him with this look.

To show how intimidated I was, I smirked wider and flipped off my hood to reveal just how sassy my smile was. The simple act of telekinesis shouldn't have been anything too snazzy, and yet, the atmosphere of this place and minor distraction on my part led to the aura failing to catch the hem of my hood the way I wanted it to. I watched it fall back in a more exaggerated toss than I was planning for while my crimson aura pinched together and I found myself being showered with little red sparkles. The light from them reflected on my teeth and made my extremely sassy smile and wonderful mane look even snazzier.

Noctus made a sound between a choke and a painfully restrained guffaw.

I had to remember this one.

"Celestia and I... Never have I met an equine-" I can only imagine how confused he would be if I referred to either of his daughters as ponies. It was easy for me to see how he was trying to speak to me very plainly when he noticed that language had changed in the time he would have last spoken with another like this. No matter how different language was, it didn't change that for him to hear me refer to an Alicorn as a pony would be like me not having an extensive history of stunning good looks and breaking and entering. Or, of course, trying to make a stork raise the sun by screaming at it... or just even expecting it to be able to in the first place.

To do something like that, criminal levels of stupidity would be required.

"I swear that her horn is just a product of the stick that's shoved up her rear poking out her skull. The only problem with my theory is that it isn't possible for sticks to work like that, so this very interesting word was created a few ages ago in order to describe mares like her. It's 'bitch' and while there's a great deal more colorful and admittedly creative thing that would make far more interesting descriptions for your rotten daughter, the disgusting simplicity of just dropping a vulgarity upon her head like I'm sure she'd drop the sun on mine has a strange appeal that I honestly don't mind."

Noctus only blinks. "How strange you are."

"Yeah, I'm pretty queer."

"So she is just up to her usual 'Princess' shenanigans, only all grown up is it?" He was trying so hard to see past my bias to piece things together.

"I'm sure she is."

"We - both Lumina and Us - always knew that she would jump at the chance to dive into summits, parties, meetings, politics, and many of the less-than-exciting duties that came with her station. She was so excited too! Always playing games with Luna and Neptune..."

When he realizes that he's talking to an apathetic demon, Noctus stops himself. "We have not seen her in..." He doesn't need to finish so he doesn't bother. 

"I really don't get it. You haven't seen her since she was nine, as Luna tells me. Celestia is literally a stranger to you. Why could you possibly be so adamant about seeing her again?"

I don't think that I could've gotten him to make a more shocked, wounded expression if I had hit him - I know I couldn't have. I just couldn't understand why.

"Have you never seen the memories your poor summoner had? Of their family?"

"He was an orphan and if he hadn't created me, I would have killed him myself. This isn't a matter you should be digging too deep into. At all. 'My summoner' as you've elected to call him was a monster."

"Do you really expect Us to believe your ever word on matters concerning yourself? You have proven that you can be trusted to give Us plenty of information. Yet, when the matter is about you, We do not find you to be the most reliable in any way, shape, or form. It is clear that you are a god, but that does not stop you from being a demon. What you just said to Us was quite cruel and a matter you have no right to speak about. Family and love are not things that you are likely to understand, the first because you and your kind have no family and the second because you are remarkably antisocial."

I grit my teeth. If it weren't for the present situation, his relation to Luna, or that he's actually valuable, I would've hurt him for that. He says some things in such a Celestia-like way, but he finishes them so differently.

"What is it that you think of when one speaks of their family? Parents are a foreign concept to you, We know, but what about something else? There would be mortals your own age, so perhaps you have bonded with a few in your life to make up for the family you lack-"

"And what if I don't have the want or need to maintain or start social relationships? What if I am well off without having had a family? Then what?"

"...Have you never even allowed yourself to imagine what it would be like to have any kind of family like We have? Parents? Siblings? Even a cousin?"

"No, I've never imagined what parents would have been like. Cousins seem completely unnecessary unless you're particularly interested in genealogy or keeping records of any kind. Siblings...? Well, they're usually around a lot, from what I can gather. Don't know what's the point of them sticking around - they can just up and leave at any moment."

"Yes, and?"

Luna said that she couldn't remember life without Celestia. "A lot of decisions have to be made to incorporate them. It's apparently really taboo to murder them. I've heard of some who are unable to recall what life would have been like without them... which makes them a lot like-" 

Understanding flashes in my eyes, and Noctus looks on with anticipation at my realization.

"They're like plagues, then!" I say, enjoying the moment that of finally discovering something by sitting a little taller. "Wait... what the fuck?! Why would you want to keep somepony around if they do nothing but drain your resources, potentially hinder development - they're just plagues! Even more than most creatures usually are! Why are they kept around again?"

"...Even as an only foal, We are nothing but shocked, confused, and a little disgusted with how exactly you understand this."

"That's a passable summary of what I think of ponies. Shocking, confusing, and more than a little disgusting. Biological relatives aren't something I'm going to have an understanding of. It seems like the usual case of misplaced loyalties that many have. There's no point in being loyal to somepony just because they're related to you or you're told to. Something like that isn't so different from tyranny, if you think about it."

He just stared at me, baffled and dumbfounded as I met his broad looks in my direction with a steady stare of cool indifference. "You want to hear of Luna next." It wasn't a question.

"We do, if you have anything to say about her. Seeing how flattering your opinion of Celestia is, We are sure that you will have nothing that kind to say about poor Luna-"

"I'm Luna's lover."

Noctus stops breathing and immediately whips his head around to look at me. His eyes are as wide as a frightened child's, if not wider.

He opened his mouth to say something.

And then closed it.

He looked straight at my unblinking expression of apathy.

And then he opened his mouth again.

But then he closed it.

And repeated the entire process again while I blew some of my mane out of my face and hummed some smug praises to myself, returning the kindness by humming egotistical praises to myself in return. Meanwhile, Noctus was staring at me. He finally managed a squeak. He, Noctus Galaxia, high king of the gods and first Element of Generosity only managed a faint squeak.

It was glorious.

"You and Ou- my daughter? Little Luna? She is so grown up now that she has taken lovers...?"

"Lover. She's never had any other than me."

"Her only lover has been a demon?"

A growl sounds in my throat and I give him a disdainful, angry look. "And?!"

"It makes complete sense, actually." There he goes with his cloudy-eye look again. "She always loved things that nopony else would ever pity."

'Charity case' isn't something I can say that I've been considered. It isn't something I like either, so I just scowl and roll my eyes. He doesn't notice.

"'More than meets the eye' is a good way to define you, Sombra. Do you mind if I call you that?"

"Not at all, it's only my name, isn't it?" I snap.

Noctus stands up and brushes off the bitterness. Extending a forehoof to help me up, he gives a forced smile - to do something so natural after so long in here isn't happening, he just wants to look friendly. Accepting means I respect him and that I see him as a superior, or anything along those lines. With Luna, it means that I trust her and that we care for one another.

I don't know where it was that creatures began to see themselves in their offspring. Long ago, and just like many other conceptions that are considered timeless, they're often as false as can be. Copies on all but the surface or divergent entities are all that such simple biological unions produce.

I see nothing of Luna other than a dark coat shared between her and her father. Even their dapples are different; Luna's came with her mark, she told me.

I help myself up and lift my head up haughtily to give him a challenging, piercing stare. He returns with only a passive demeanor, unable to even make his ragged state work for him. Of course he can't make it say 'I survived' instead of 'I suffered'.

"We still have other things to discuss." I fix him with a pointed stare that he's unable to avoid, no matter the height difference between us.

"It seems so. What is it that you still must know?"

The left side of my mouth curls into a humorless smirk. "Oh, there's a few things that I must know-" His expression becomes more hesitant when it's clear he has no choice in this. "But you also have somepony who wants to see you - somepony I promised to help in finding what is left."

Now he looks almost hopeful - and there's still confusion too. I may be his superior, yet it's hard not to resist some gloating. I wouldn't be the Right-Honourable Lord Sombra if I didn't.

"Luna is coming to help. The goddess of the moon and dreams herself is on her way here."

Another open mouthed stare. 'Shock' was such a tame way to describe the look on his face. Gratitude of some kind was there, and I smugly savored every bit.

"There's some briefing that still must be done, but you can bet your dead empire that I'll be getting us out of here, or I'm not the Right-Honourable Lord Sombra. I just need to know a few things..."



...



"Just how hasn't any form of corruption taken its toll on you?" I cast a quick glance at Casual Racism without ceasing my pacing. I have a strong hunch to why; outside of anything but dark magic - something he didn't have - no magic worked here. To help that elaborate effect out so that shoving gods in voids was more of a proper solution than it initially sounded like, I strongly suspected that there was a seal that I ended up bypassing when I drifted here. Only being in a non-physical form would have gotten me past that. I can't be sure it that's what it is - with my presence, escape is certainly possible...

Prejudice-over-Pleasantries watched my disorderly paths, visibly dizzy. He looked like he might faint as well with a form as frail as he is. I couldn't possibly stand not being able to slip into a more convenient body if I looked so weakened. Just because an Alicorn doesn't have to eat or sleep doesn't mean that stopping both immediately won't have negative effects. If they're used to doing to regularly, it'd be withdrawl. Centuries of exhaustion and starvation mark his face and body alongside old battle scars that were slashed between the dapples on his dark coat like lines on a star map.

"Err-" He didn't even attempt to hide how difficult it was for him to concentrate. Being left like this, without any distractions or company made his attention span incredibly halting. "As a demon I thought that you would know of dark magic-"

"I do. However, what I'm not sure about is how corruption can take hold without an artifact-"

Since he was clearly going to say something useful this time, I only scoffed slightly and fixed a harsh stare on him that looked far more impatient than it actually was. It wasn't as though I weren't used to the incompetence of others. Onyx. Purple Eyesore. Him. Occasionally Mac. Firefly. The list went on.

"Ah, yes, Hasad's dark works. He spread them across the world... right under the muzzles of everypony..."

In retaliation, I take the chance to finish my statement - his recollection needs some speeding up. If the plan is to work, then Luna can't be waiting out constant delays. it's my job to meet her, not the other way around. To do that it's upon me to be balancing action and intellect - and to do so, I'm going to be cutting corners. Civility isn't an option both because of a limited time frame and its general uselessness.

"How did two demons come to be without any artifacts? Or have you just avoided mentioning them? What were they? Did you and your company destroy them?"

He shakes his head airily in order to try and reconstruct some semblance of lucidity. "N-No. Lumina would have known, you see. Her and Penny were close. I know nothing of exactly how such mon-" He looks at me and stops himself. "How they were created other than there being no artifacts. That is something only you and Umbra share. The knowledge that demons were created with was not quite the same - it was not from any one source. You and Umbra, you came from-"

"A Book," I supply flatly. Scoffing again, I run my magic through my disheveled mane and resume pacing, ideas and possibilities, numbers and factors crunching into place as I sort, swap, and dwell on them aimlessly, always searching for what I need...

"Yes, that. And I understand that it is within the mind of Umbra - and yours too?"

I nod and keep pacing. If he were anything like Luna, it'd be great bouncing ideas off him... Luna always kept up with me... we had our strengths... even when she didn't understand what I was explaining, it was always a joy to teach her - or she at least, understood me.

"That book acts as a focal point-"

"And water is wet. Anything else I should know?"

"...you and Umbra also..."

"I'm part book on my book's side. Who would've known?"

"For a demon, you are rather sharp," he mumbles.

"For a god, you can't take sarcasm."

He was quiet again. Unfortunately for me, it didn't last.  "You do not get my point."

"You have a hard time making one, seeing as we don't have all eternity to escape this place with a plan constructed from a lot of guessing that would at least be less haphazard if you could attempt to aid me here. I may work alone, but some help could prove to be useful. Possibly."

He gave me the most ridiculously mild and parental frown I've ever seen, and in the tone of a decently patronizing father said: "I was only going to suggest that you being 'part book' as you put it, would mean that you have characteristics of one."

"You think I haven't considered that?" I may have never had a father - thank goodness - but I can spot the behaviors of one and dislike them just as much. "Do you think I'd be the god of knowledge if I knew nothing about books like that? Try supplying something I can work with."

"How is it that anypony can stand you?"

"How can anypony stand themselves?"

"I think about that often." He sighed and his focus started to slip again.

"Good!" I snapped, pacing faster. I wasn't here to manage his insecurities and guilt. "Now think about something useful!"

"...What is the name of your world?" he said after a long pause between us. I didn't doubt that silence was unbearable for him and something he wanted to avoid at all costs... but why do it so stupidly? Talking for the sake of talking...

I quickly turned to face him, eyes burning with scrutiny. "The world? ...You have some explaining to do, and fast." I'm not going to be acting on impulse so much as I will be acting quickly: this is one of the few times I can't be tasking risks. Luna's safety and my own life are staked on this. I will be getting my way, and while a few limits should be pushed, detail can never be overlooked, and I won't do anything. Action should be taken, but never action without thought.

He won't solve anything, I will.

Sighing tiredly, Inconvenience Incarnate looked up at me and rose on long, shaky legs. He had a lot to say, and wanted me to know it. I decided to humor him and comb through for any information that would mean something to me. He may have the resolve to outlast what few immortals could ever endure - the drifting aimlessness of guilt and being here, draining and wasting way neither bound or unbound, remaining completely physical - but I have no respect for him. I respect and love Luna, and that's the only reason I've been so tolerant of him.

"It is not an ascension so much as it is discovery. Godhood pulls what is already there into something more. Ascension is an ugly word for this. Divinity is growing, not changing. Once an immortal has a surge - a greater surge that spirals into something more and both creates and follows a magical rhythm, that rhythm becomes like a key. And what is done with that key?"

"If it weren't for the fact that you're Luna's father I would've hoped that you choked on it."

He gave me a weak look of disapproval and a sour, thin frown. "Again, I cannot help but wonder about just how strange you are, Sombra the Rude-"

"Oh no, how unflattering!" I wave my forehooves about like everypony who has never seen a real ghost and watch him blink in a clear sign that he didn't get my joke.

"...I shall go on, then. It is not a literal key."

"It isn't? I would've never known!"

Impatient frown aside, Royal Pain chooses to just look upward at something that is not there, a hint of wryness in his frown before he kept speaking as if nothing had happened. I think I might remind him of something.

"With this 'key' you have unlocked one of the particularly stubborn worlds that have sprung from the plain of magic - if you have demigods, then it is known as the place of ascension. In my time..." He sighed again, swallowing hard. "It was known as 'Where Gods Walk'."

My expression was stoic and unreadable, but he took it as impatience and hurried his explanation. It was already a bit clumsy to begin with. We had no way to explain what we did know without peeling back secrets and speaking of centuries worth of everything unsaid, and of course, using time we didn't have.

"That clearly does not matter to you." 

I never said that.

He kept going, ignoring my narrowed gaze, trained on him. Judging him. "These worlds name themselves and it is only when one finds their way to them, with magic so much like dancing..." He snorts at something long forgotten. "Then, if you survive, you come back a god. I think you have an eye and an ear for detail, yet some oversimplification might be needed if we have as little time as you say."

"Everything."

"Hmm?" His curly blue and purple mane bounces when he turns to look at me.

"That's what my world called itself. And yours? You're the wishing god. What is your world and how does your power work? And since you're more experienced with this matter than I am, even if I still have yet to see it show, is it possible to bring other creatures into these worlds...? Can I even visit mine again? Don't you understand just how many questions I have racing in my mind despite there being a greater sense of urgency?"

Or how much I wish that I was with somepony as intelligent, capable, and quick-witted as Luna? Or I would, if it wouldn't mean that she'd be stuck in a place like this.

Out of the corner of my eyes, I observe how much effort he puts into not watching my maddening pacing. I run a bit of telekinesis through my mane again and sigh. No matter how much effort I had put into not attempting to sound irate, it was inevitable, and I let it be. Fragments of proper plans just waiting to be formed into something proper - noisy ideas, shards of something smart, amusing tidbits, curious possibilities, a multitude of simply everything - roars in my mind like the waves below the Sky Scraper on the nights Luna had it glide close to the ocean...

No. It's louder. Much louder.

I just need more information and a damaged god isn't on the list of desirable ones. Is it really such a surprise that working alone is more fruitful? Or with Luna? He just seems so simple in comparison to the complexity I need. 

And this is not one of them. Noctus hears my stray growl and realizes that he spaced out again before scraping together a few hurried answers to my questions. "You, Sombra, are certainly frustratingly inquisitive and dangerously intellectual. Were you like any other mortal, I could just order you about." I knew that he was supposed to be laughing - briefly - but he'd spent so long here that his laugh was hollow and mostly unrecognizable as such. "My world is called Charity; the details of it are private. Consider it godly etiquette to only reveal such details to those closest to you."

"Like Luna."

His eyes clouded over with a haze of remembrance - he couldn't imagine my Luna as a grown mare and I couldn't see her as the filly he remembered. A troubled youth, yes, but that was never with my own eyes.

He cleared his throat so softly that it was almost annoying in how disgustingly polite he tried to make it. Maybe that's where Celestia got some of her demeanor. "You could. Bringing mortals to such a place would require some precautions. If it has been done, it was a private event between yet another face lost to your age and a mortal lover, so I cannot say that I ever heard of it happening. Even bringing in an immortal companion is not the easiest. Lumina saw my Charity, and I her Order only a few times. To visit so frequently did not seem necessary."

"But will I be able to visit mine again? I'm not an Alicorn-"

I grit my teeth and decide to tolerate his latest interruption. It's not long answers that bother me - I'm not always one for brevity myself - but here it's needed.

"That, of course, is likely why such a feat could be very draining for you. Over time, you would get better with this, but at this point..." He managed to look sheepish without me rolling my eyes. I imagine he must have had a natural inclination to behavior like that before all this. Every little gesture he made now felt cracked - not quite what it should've been, a ghost. "Such a feat would be dangerous, and no matter how bold or adventurous you may be, as the weakest member of the original Elements, I am telling you that no matter how great your skill is, it would be unwise to make the attempt to access your Everything regularly."

"Weakest? I'm familiar with large amounts of legend and culture of the Old World and I know that you were usually heralded as the least likely to perform feats of great power like the others but your power and talent... they were never described in any of the texts I read. Enlighten me?"

"...I shall soon. But first: if your magic works here, then it would be, if you would permit my suggestion, favorable for us to be more aware of the other's ability. I understand that our communication is not strong, and currently neither am I, but we will be expected to fight together, no matter our weaknesses."

Smirking, I flip my hood off with as much nonchalance as I can manage mid-pace. "Now we're talking. I know of your magic and yet, you've hardly had any songs to yourself. Some warrior."

There was that laugh again. "There is indeed a reason for that. My magic is virtually nonexistent on my own. I might as well be as weak as a demigod. I have never liked to be alone, either-"

"Descriptions in all the old stories..." I trail off, rethinking my words. "You were always at gatherings and described as very extroverted. Might explain why you're horrid with reflection and matters like this, huh? I have yet to meet one who isn't, but I'm patient."

He managed to brighten a bit, eyes gaining a bit of lucidity. "Yes, yes! I am indeed..." He let out another heavy sigh and continued instantly, gaining more and more liveliness as he did so. "I was the weakest of the original Elements and Lumina, the Element of Magic, was the strongest. She even had these curious night-eyes that made her look fearsome indeed. Luna has them as well. I have always sought to aid others in any way, giving all that I could and more despite being the metaphorical runt of my kind. Company was always calming and lent purpose. Solitude was never something I feared then, but I never sought it."

"Tartarus is other ponies," I grumbled.

"Maybe? You seem the type to say that." He sat down with a heavy thud and hummed a few scrambled notes with a creaky voice. His throat was sore. "Lumina was a fine leader... it made it inevitable that I would develop an infatuation with such a brave young mare. You see, my magic is to manipulate and shape the quintessence from the false-"

"These days, they're usually called 'wishing werelights'."

"Yes, those. I am a bit surprised that the more rustic term has become more popular. As I was saying, I have the ability to shape that and change it into something mundane that is wished for - a new quill or some other multitude of things, and all from dust. Stardust, as it was sometimes called. I can grant grander, important wishes to an extent, and that is what I did for Lumina and the company. One might say I am Luck's god, and goodness is she fickle with me. As long as the stars were visible and the night wind sure, I could aid those who needed it, and only when they really did. The stronger and more charitable desire, like a hero's wish to save, the more I am able to gather power."

"How ironic it is that you're the last survivor, then? You're virtually powerless without others and that extroversion...  just wow, the sheer survivor's guilt you must have-"

"You have a very cruel sense of humor, at times. And yet, considering your species I am unsure if I should be impressed that one of you has actually developed one, or find it to be obvious that it would be so cruel." He manages a mildly annoyed sigh and the same exasperated look upward. I know I must have hurt him more than he would want to show.

"If you're going to doubt how impressive I am, then I'll consider leaving you here." When he did a double take and looked at me, eyes wide with confusion and fear in contrast to the doldrums around us, I gave him a bored look. "Consider," I emphasized dryly.

His cheek muscle twitched slightly, and he pursed his lip, frowning. "I honestly have no idea just how I am supposed to cope with you. Your nature is tricky, yet determined over fickle... what an enigma you are, rude one! I shall continue on, then."

In a cryptic attempt to encourage him, as well as witness his reaction, I made a series of 'demon noises' and assorted growls that sounded unlike any creature who had ever walked or walks the world... other then a demon.

"Ah," he blinked at my range of sounds. "So you make those noises too. Back to my tale it is?"

I shrugged and motioned for him to continue.

"Wishers could be fooled. To maintain harmony and do my duty as a god, ponies had to learn that not everything they would wish for was going to come-"

"I'm not that uneducated and naive. Would it be possible for any kind of wish to be granted here, and spark your magic again?"

Starbutt fixed his gaze on me, looking at me like I was a foreign food or a painting he didn't quite like. 

An object, I thought, always an object.

"With you here... it might actually be a possibility. Your magic provides plenty of opportunity... but the power that we might need to expend to get out of here..." He frowned with thought. "Are you able to have surges of power - 'divine wrath' as it might be called?"

"Of course I can," I tell him with a bitter laugh. "Whenever that happens there's these runes - I've been seeing them a lot lately. They change... and yet stay the same. I can't read all of them. They're like no other language I've seen before. It's strange, even by my standards. I'd like to get to the bottom of it, but I'm not in any position to right now. You've been a god longer than I have. Are you able to come up with anything based on what I've told you? I know it's brief, but I don't usually force myself into magical surges or overwhelm myself with power at the drop of a bit."

Starbutt tapped a hoof to his muzzle in thought. "Such a fitting phenomena for the God of Knowledge. Until we are able to get out of here - and if," he adds quietly, "there will be no definite answer. My only guess is that it has to do with you - I apologize, but I find myself fond of how you say this - being 'part book'. Assuming you have never worked with runes or encoding anything or constructing your own magical programs-"

"I have."

He blinks, slightly taken aback. "You are certainly prodigious..."

Your next line, I think, bitter anticipation rising with a growl in my throat too low for him to hear, will be 'for a demon'.

"...for a demon. I am honestly surprised that you are so educated... and different. Odd indeed. If that is the case, then the symbols that you see are your magic. It is a language only you can read, and though it may bear the illusion of change, if it is magic, it merely grows. Only the dark energy that you and the rest of your kind spring from and spread changes. Harmony and true magic preserves."

He's so lucky he's Luna's father. "It's my magic...? Nothing new I need to worry about?"

"Yes, it is just your growing power." He shifts awkwardly in a flimsy attempt to hide growing apprehension. "It will grow with you, of course. Think of it like learning a new language. All that is merely your power, visible, and aiding you... with time you should be able to gain control over it, or let it scrawl possibilities as you please. I have always found your kind's ability to sense magic terrifying and intriguing. Umbra, being book-born, if you will permit that minor inaccuracy on my part, can read it quite well compared to the others..." He pauses and looks away, recalling something and trying to avoid my glare of stifled hostility. "I am unsure if all of you could do that - read magic instead of just using the feel to detect life and other things. Can you all do that, read what you sense? Lumina was always the better with demons..."

"Yes," I said coldly, "all of us can. It'd be stupid if we could only use it in such a..." I pause to think of what might fit best. "...raw way."

As per usual, Starbutt just ignores me. "I do not even know if you could make an unselfish wish."

My forelegs itch to be pacing again, so I resume the process, gradually and aimlessly. Ideas that I had pushed away temporarily so I could examine each one slowly as Starbutt and I talked were now rapidly compared and swapped with others in a maelstrom of genius. 

"Pocket dimensions are weaker than divine worlds, aren't they?"

Starbutt looked at me, confused, as ever as though I had asked him if I could come close to being defined only as 'vaguely attractive' across any multiverse. The thought was actually a horrifying one, and one of the few things that I'm glad was likely to ever achieves that status of 'impossible' across worlds.

"Yes, they are..."

"I have an idea, then."

"Oh my..." He looked ill.

"One that will either loop us in infinite agony as the world is torn apart, where I'll never see my dear Luna again as we suffer in the form of half-physical beings, never completely regenerating or finalizing a physical state, or it will actually get us out of here."

"I-Is that only the worst case scenario?"

"Honestly, those are just probable estimations. Maybe you can't feel it, but time does pass here. The sooner we're out, the better - and it's not often that I'll say that. We don't have the time to be testing things. Regardless, I'm not a magical genius for nothing. There's a plethora of chances that we won't have an eternally horrible fate, or at least you won't. Luna told me how Alicorn souls can be released from this kind of thing."

"Do you not think that calling yourself - a being from magic - a 'magical genius' is strangely redundant? Even just a little?"

Allowing myself a good dramatic, disgruntled eye roll and well-earned annoyed sigh, I stare right at Starbutt, collected except for the mad look in my eyes that I knew was there. "Do you honestly think we have time to debate this? The fate of me, Luna, myself, pizza, my relationship, my ego, my good looks, and also me are in danger. If I wanted to sit around chatting with you all day, I would have considered seeing if it was possible to teleport one of my kidneys outside of my body and let the painful aftermath consume me first because I honestly find you to be that annoying that I'd prefer such an ordeal."

"Are you always this insane?"

"I'm as insane as I am attractive. Considering I'm immortal, my good looks and excessive personal bias that's as everlasting as I am, I'm infinitely insane and attractive."

"Do you even hear what it is that you say?"

"At this point, I honestly don't care. But, I can tell you this: my accent is superior to yours, so you might as well just listen to me. I do it all the time."



...



Sound wasn't the same here, or at least not the way it traveled. Whenever Twinkleflanks and I talked, the silence everywhere else was so heavy it might as well have been tangible. Echoes died quickly and even if I had stopped my manic pacing, there would be little to signal that if a literal blind observer was present. My hoofsteps and his barely made a sound the farther we strayed. If you were to think of sound like a ripple, then 'rings' faded quickly.

The silence we were surrounded by was unnatural, and it shouldn't be.

Twinkleflanks looked at me hesitantly. God or not, apprehension was all he conveyed every time I opened my mouth. I even had bothered to disguise my fangs before he could spot them when he nearly tackled me. I can't say I'm not used to it. Only Luna trusts me enough to go through with anything I say.

"What exactly is your brilliant plan, Sombra the Demon?"

"You could just call me 'Sombra'," I mumbled, blowing a bit of my bangs out of my face with a huff. Like everything else, it was still caked in the gory residue from my fights with Umber. I didn't have the compulsion to be clean either, this was still battle. Planning was just as important as fights, for they dictated them. This was also a familiar sensation - being covered in this kind of mess. "It's not as though my name is difficult to say - I know that all you Old World Alicorns are polyglots too - or like I'm insisting on being called by a largely unnecessary string of titles. What do I look like, a politician? And do I really need the constant reminder of what my species, Twinkleflanks the Alicorn?"

"Can you just tell me what your plan is...?" He grimaces before adding. "Please, Sombra?"

I snort and roll my eyes. "Well, you've certainly invoked something here. You think that calling me by name will suddenly make me appear or something? I don't even know where that demon myth came from."

Twinkleflanks gives a dry cough-like laugh again at something only he remembers. "Myths will be myths, Sombra. And onto your plan?"

Cracking a devilish smirk, I cock my head to the side and look him straight in the eye. "There's never been a demon god before."

"Fortunately, no," Twinkleflanks says, mistaking my statement for a question. "Not even Hasad the Betrayer was a god. Only his elder sister, the fair Elinora was, and even that could not save her from the fate that befell her and her subjects."

"And we've already established that my magic isn't inhibited here since this was designed to drain and trap Alicorns. Tell me, will you be able to gain any of your abilities back if we get out of here?"

He shook his head. "Not unless I am under the sky, mostly. The night sky would be best, you see. Even then, I do not think I could do much other that exceeds a demigod's pitiful ability. To regain what I have lost would take centuries."

"That's lovely. Now, these worlds can't be infinite."

"They are not," he confirms.

My smirk widens. "If they're limited I can exploit that. This place isn't unlimited either, I can feel it. The focus just shifts. If you think of us as two insects trapped under a cup that's on a table, we have plenty of space in the cup to move, but never enough. That's the focal point, where most of the magic is concentrated into barriers, and such. They're all remarkable, but that's not the point. The point is that the illusion of infinity is created because the cup moves across the table with us. Neither of us have a sense of direction in here - well, mostly you since you can't feel magic."

Twinkleflanks looks astonished. "How could you possibly know that?"

"First, you don't move much, and when you do, it's awkward. You're stuck travelling in circles because there's only a vague sense of 'up' and a few millennia in here has deteriorated almost all of your ability to navigate. Mental torture isn't anything new to me. And remember, we're on a table, our path looping aimlessly. Tables have limits to what they can have on them-"

His widening eyes start to catch onto a little of what I mean. "You cannot possibly mean-"

"Oh, but I do. It sounds simple, but the work in it won't be. The strain would be enormous. I'm not a source of infinite magic, but I'll be damned if I can't manage to do something like this. It's quick enough and we don't have time for subtle tricks."

Twinkle gulps. "You really are serious..."

Laughing dryly and briefly, I look scornfully at him. "I am. We're on a table. Tables can't handle infinite weight. And if I were to place a container on top of the table..."

He gulps again.

"Well, even the container can't hold infinite weight."

"Please," he pleads, tone bordering on frightened, "surely you understand just how grim the situation is? What exactly is it that you plan to do...?"

Turning to the side, I spit at the ground and give him the same, special critical look I reserve for every inadequate travelling 'companion' I've ever had. "To grossly oversimplify for the sake of your further displeasure and my morbid delight: I'm going to bring forth my world right here and overwhelm this one. As it begins to collapse, I'm going to teleport us into my superior realm briefly and then swap us to the space 'above' where I sank from before reforming. From there, I'm going to force us back up into Niflhel. After that, I'll take it from there. Here, I lead, not you."

He nods mutely, and I am appeased. 

"My only question is this: can you trust me? I know I'm an asshole, but I'm an honest one. I mean whatever I say, except in the few instances that I don't." I give a flippant shrug and nod to the side a bit, flipping my bangs out of my face. They fall right back, and as always I don't mind. "Trust me, you'll know those few times, if you ever know anything about the Right-Honourable Lord Sombra."

After prolonged silence, Twinkleflanks sighs and nods. "Trusting a demon... what next?"

I don't humor him with a reply.

"You know, Sombra, as soon as I heard the names of my daughters from your mouth, I knew that I might be able to trust you... at least a little. Nopony outside of their family knew of their existence - or Neptune's, for that matter - at the time of what you call 'the Collapse'. They were too young, and as you no doubt know, it was not our way to reveal something as precious as a young Alicorn to the world."

"Twinklefanks, I already knew that," I grumble.

He only nods. I doubt that's the strangest thing he's ever been called. If I live to be over ten thousand years old too, it's only guaranteed that I'd be called many things as well - even if it's only in brief exchanges that I barely tolerate. "Now, is there anything else I can do to aid you? I cannot say you have all my trust, or much of it, but you shall have enough of it for this. And, of course, my gratitude."

To show my appreciation, I just roll my eyes and spit on the ground again. "There's only one thing you need to do from here on out."

"And that is...?"

I give him a devious look that I'd usually reserve for any victim of my schemes. It's a smug, roguish look, and powerful too. As well as just a little sassy, if I do say so myself. It says that I've won and that I want you to know that too. If looks could label me a demon, this would be it.

"Put your faith in me."
> Chapter 48: Red Thread Redux
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Sombra:


The searing freeze of Everything is almost welcoming to be as the arcane whirl of multi-hued fire that moves Twinkleflanks and I into my world with a deafening rip dies down, fading to sparks that capture only faint outlines of my cloaked form. When their light finally dies, I would blend into the shadows - but I was not here alone. To bring Noctus here, I had to shroud him in my own magic. It was the perfect explanation to why he was currently on fire in a black void and not suffering any of the consequences that would be expected.

I stared at him critically. "Do you have a good reason to why you aren't burning up and screaming? After all, you're only on fire."

Looking down at me and peering at me through the veil of flame, Twinkleflanks takes a deep breath, marveling at my magic.

"Really, there should be more charred flesh. I know that Alicorns aren't usually flame resistant, but this is still slightly weird for me, considering that I have set ponies on fire before."

"You have, Worldbreaker...?" he murmurs absently.

"Don't ask. It was a long time ago, when I was much younger and it wasn't always my choice to... Never mind. It's nothing you need to do. Just explain why you aren't... well..." I wave one armored forehoof in his direction and let my magic glow fiercer. 

Bright crimson clouded my vision for a moment and runes poured across my eyes in rows; I focused on them as best I could before they disappeared. My world was stable and concealed; I wouldn't dare let Everything's other side be shown to somepony like Twinkleflanks. The particular subdivision of Niflhel that he had been trapped in and I sunk into was being rapidly consumed by fire - I felt that much through the resources that Everything had. If I wasn't able to extend my senses beyond this place, we'd have no idea what was outside when I decided to root this place elsewhere.

None of this had been easy. I hadn't done magic that actually drained me since the complexity of the Replicating Spell's casting, which had left me in a state of constant vertigo for a week. I'd barely been able to control my magic for a while after, only mustering sparks and having to make do with sloppy explosions as the result of most attempts toward proper spells. Onyx only seemed to mind that whenever he couldn't be as precise with torturing ponies and turned to tormenting me instead. 

The Replicating Spell and other major defenses, including the network that made the Empire vanish that had me in worse condition for far longer, were known to him. My intelligence was something to exploit, even if he denied it. He used it in ways that he could while I threw myself deeper into research.

Here, my intelligence was something for Twinkleflanks to stare at, peering into the void, legs shaking slightly - he had traded one for another. It's more than a light show to him or some unknown to fear like it would be for a pony. They'd want to exploit every bit of knowledge I'd have. I wouldn't be a weapon then, but I'd be an object all over again - and just like an object, they'd attempt to get rid of me or control me once I've been used up in minds that are only fair on the surface level. Fair is foul, more often than not.

Far away, I sense Niflhel's subdivision tear itself apart as it is fully immersed in rage-stoked flames used so expertly by yours truly before sinking away... and then nothing. Static precedes it, but the oblivion that follows is inevitable. As the distant sensation dies away, I, Sombra the newly dubbed 'Worldbreaker' feel my usual scowl take shape and my exterior grow colder in demeanor than Everything's icy tears.

Worldbreaker. It has an Old World flair to it, and one that I haven't seen uttered by any modern culture except the unchanging buffalo. During my time in the desert, they dubbed be 'Ruinwalker', since my name was a true curse to them and they had to call me something. I may hate nicknames, but that was one I could begrudgingly tolerate. Buffalo are one of the few creatures to have anything like respect for me. It was distant and quiet affair, that respect. I killed the bandits that troubled them, they told me secrets and kept my presence a secret. They offered me a name and something worth more than money: treasure, or more accurately, keys, in the form of legends.

"You still haven't told me how you're not burning up." Curtness and apathy make up the majority of my tone, but there's dryness waiting for bait, anything that can be spun into wit. My breath is currently spun to soft vapor because of the cold. It dissipates faster than the frosty exhales I would make on Midgard.

"I would not be much of a god if I knew of no tricks, now would I?"

The only reply I gave him was a small noise of affirmation in the back of my throat. I couldn't feel any magic being cast and anything latent - an old enchantment that had survived, but just barely, the prison I had broken - and that was only because of the intensity of my protective veil of fire, keeping him from the rest of my world. Maybe all Alicorns are flame retardant, and maybe they aren't. I don't intend to find out.

Twinkle and I look away from one another. He makes it quite clear that my company is awkward to him. I don't give any sign that I've picked up on this and just stubbornly scowl into the distance, judging the abyss.

Through the sensory matrices woven about in places unseen, I was able to feel the destruction of one of the many prisons that Umber had made. It wouldn't be long before I had to manage the next part of the plan. Unlike Twinkle, I wouldn't be needing any kind of aura about me. Since I wasn't using dark magic either, my mane kept its usual appearance free of alterations as a side effect from any magical discharge. I was glad that I couldn't mix that particular one with the scarlet shroud, filled with the same shifting script that now flashed between blinks Umber witnessed in our first fight.

As soon as I was certain that it had fallen, I let my horn grow brighter. Deep crimson washes over the two of us and I watch as my vision darkens to the same hue, only visible to anypony else with the glow of my irises. I caught my reflection in the dense, glittering glow of the aura and the glint of script in each iris can be glimpsed. I have to focus carefully to see past the haze of red, but it's there. In fact, I can even see the faint impression of the glyphs staining my cloak. Each one looks like it is just a dark patch of fabric, moving with every curve and swish along the various hems and folds in their subtle, shadowy patterns that could pass as mere tricks of light if nopony looked at them carefully.

Keeping Everything intact and Twinkle and I bathed in the shadows of the abyss, I continue to pull and work my magic, switching and rearranging pre-existing parts of this place, like solving a puzzle. Sure, it may only be seconds that I'm at work but these shifts feel like they're taking longer to me - and they would if anypony else tried a similar feat.

I read the red blurs and make sense of anything and everything I can. Eventually, I open my eyes and double check on Twinkle, who shifts nervously next to me, while my frown deepens. I finally had a competent companion, one who I could do more with other than 'tolerate' and 'glare at'. To have a partner who thought for themselves and did things for themselves? That was something I craved.

Twinkle did not pass with flying colors. I only counted about six on him, anyway.

With a roll of my eyes that only I could see, I wrenched my magic one way.

And nothing happened. At first.

Whatever ground-like plain we stood on shattered. Twinkle screamed out in shock - one sudden yelp before he tried to flare his large wings and attempt to fly. Enough of his panic subsided just so he could remember that his wings were in no state to fly and he had nowhere to go.

I groaned. We were only plummeting downward into the depth of a possibly infinite void, what's his problem? He's an everlasting being who spent over three thousand years trapped in a blank plain with his physical form intact and I was a mortal being who spent eleven centuries in a place that wasn't too different from his after my body had been ripped away and reduced to a considerably more primal incarnation while my life was forcibly dragged out and my soul faced obliteration near-constantly.

So what's his problem? "Buck up," I grumble, and if he hears me, he says nothing.

I wait until the world flips - literally - and abruptly. Twinkle screams, and my growl towards him is lost in the breakneck whoosh. I don't care if he's over three millennia out of practice. He's annoying. All I did was rearrange this realm around myself so that we were technically falling upward - where I wanted us to go - by manipulating the fact that this world revolves around me.

Yes, Twinkle does eventually realize what's happening - like it was my 'duty' to ever inform one as grossly incompetent as him in the first place - but by then he's already screamed enough for me to just glare into the darkness, a deadpan and annoyed scowl gracing my beautiful features.

My day job was honestly better than having to put up with him.



...



Niflhel was under my hooves before I could even sink into the entirety of my physical form. I shook and lurched forward in an almost drunken stumble as the world spun around me and the pressure difference that hadn't effected me for some time was tossed relentlessly upon me, an invisible but noticeable, undeniable weight.

It took Sir Twinkles a few absolutely fantastic attempts before he could stand, his long, once-powerful legs wobbling while I looked on, making no attempt to hide how I judged him.

I pushed my gathering focus through vertigo and the storm of sensations. The feel of magic that I had yet to differentiate in my condition as everything around me swirled, temporarily lost in a sea of no distinction. My red-tinted world was gone for now, when I needed it next I'd call it up again.

Unlike, his esteemed highness, Twinkle Star, I had managed to avoid throwing up. This wasn't an entirely unfamiliar experience, but the specifics have always differed for me.

Vigilance sharpened almost instantly. I expected no less from myself. Immediately, I began shifting slightly from my unyielding stand and letting my eyes travel about, scrutinizing every bit of the twisted äerint hallways that yawned before us. Even Twinkle was dwarfed by them. With the ability to sense magic as I could, Umber would be ready to pursue us if he wasn't already. There wasn't any time for constant delays that had happened anymore - time was like a weight that had settled over Twinkle Star. I watched his expression sink to the worry of somepony trying to recall something and failing to grasp all that they had experienced. The feeling of time as it was here wasn't resonating with him properly, and likely wouldn't for some time. 

I feel myself frown. Not even a single second escaped me in that icy prison. I can't say I relate, nor did I expect myself to. The cold distance of my impersonal stance bothers him, but a sideways glare from me that is embers to the ice he perceives me as quiets him before he can speak. Does he really need to be so obvious about how he wants to talk? It's only easier to silence him that way. My senses clear quickly while he still looks foggy and his movements remain slow - I didn't expect anything else, knowing what he's been through. Magic settles and the patterns of everything become easier to pick out.

The distant and resounding clang of far-away corridors strikes and I feel my heartbeat skip. The air has a distant, unnatural warmth to it.

The feel of magic.

I bite back a smirk, a gasp, anything other than wide eyes and a soft exhale, but my ears prick in the direction of the power I've felt in another form before. Even from here, where I'm bathed in jagged shadows that hide the script that dances excitedly on my cloak while my irises flash with a momentary red glow-

I look down one hall, seeing past it.

And then I take one step toward her.



...



She's not here - not yet. I gallop down every hall, knowing that eventually she'll be in one of them. Twinkle trots after me, trying to catch up, but is only able to chase my the tail of my shadow in his attempts to stay near. 

My heartbeat is louder than the sound of my boots striking crystal. Fate's sheath taps at my side and the fabric of my cloak whooshes. I can feel the air reach my coat under Umber's dried blood, and as my hooves strike the ground again and again sparks will go off, briefly illuminating myself and my surroundings. Compared to the shades of gray and black that make up these yawning, magic-made halls, I'm a blur of gray, brown, and crimson.

And again, she's the one I'm chasing. Was there ever any path I walked where she wasn't at the end of it? Maybe. Maybe, but I don't care.

It may be a distant pulse, but it still sweeps over this place. For a moment, my legs feel weak at the sense of power that washes over the halls, but I keep running.

Every step I take only leads me to a stronger center of magic - and one that is moving, too. It's Luna - it's my Luna, alright. I'd know the feel of her anywhere. Now everywhere starts to feel more and more like Luna - or how she was on the beach, with power to spare. Then, her magic had warped so that the illusion of that intangible magic that only tempted me to get closer to her. I wanted to be by her side, to tell her everything I possibly could, and let Luna - whose self was clear with her magic - be loved. I couldn't let her hurt herself again, or be hurt. I wouldn't let her waste herself or waste away. 

She was strong, and her magic only confirmed this. She has a great heart, a greater mind, a laugh that I can't wait to hear again and again.

I don't care how it sounds - absurd or something else - as I chase her yet again, but if she wanted me to, I'd chase her forever. My life would still unfold, but it would in however much distance is between us and more.

A white glow became visible. It shone like something more than the moon's light on fresh snow from when I was young and would stare up at the stars, entranced, convinced that maybe the flakes and those lights in the sky weren't the most different things.

The glow moved across the crystalline surface of the äerint, casting strange shadows that I found pleasing as I raced on. Soon, I had to put effort into not slipping, to make each stride strong enough to overcome the feeling of weak knees while adrenaline burned in me and my breath came in rough gasps of anticipation. Twinkle was behind me, somewhere, still following, but I didn't give him any thought other than that. This was about Luna and I.

Anytime he called out to me, asking questions about his daughter, I didn't listen and pressed on, down the maze of cave-like halls.

She was rushing toward us, with her whirlwind of magic like an endless knot of complex emotions that I might have actually paused to just wait and unravel them. Luna was somepony I wanted to spend time around and wanted to know. If she was upset, I wanted to at least be there for her and offer her something. We had plans to further and goals to accomplish, and we're going to do them together - something I'd never grant anypony short of such a close companion.

When I'm sure that we're so near that I can just make out an unmistakable shape in the darkness, I keep fighting not to trip over myself. This was the most powerful, entrancing, and addicting power that I had ever been exposed to and feeling something this strong meant that it would effect me, and that I had to brace those effects. The äerint behind her advancing figure was illuminated by the white, sparking flight trail streaming behind her. I couldn't see her mane in the light. Usually, it'd be too distinct for me not to notice, but from the light that came from Luna, her magic, and her flight showed that the surface of the äerint had been melted and ran down the irregular surface of the walls like paint.

She's come such a long way from when we first met...

And even then, nothing between us, or about us, was simple. Could I really ask for any more than that? Taking advantage of everything chance had and every obstacle that dares to come between us so I could see her again... it doesn't matter if it was then or now, it was worth it.

While the hall behind her is bright, the small stretch between us has yet to be illuminated. That'll change soon enough; Luna is swift and while I'm not nearly as fast as her, I can outrun most ponies.

I'm just close enough to see her eyes, wide with excitement and filled with a mix of emotions, and her white mane that makes the light around her seem dim and gray in comparison before the wind is knocked out of me and I'm ploughed into the ground by an Alicorn flying at high speed, colliding with me while wearing a near-complete suit of armor.

Stifling a full shout is surprising easy, considering how much worse I've been through. I yelp. Loudly. It still isn't loud enough to show that this still hurts. My lungs burn and my sides ache. I feel my head spinning again.

Wrapping my hooves around her and anchoring her into a hug was cathartic. She was here again. I'd always know scars, monsters, and all things dark like this - after all, those things and more were what so much of the world was made of. I would fight them, run from them, scorn them. I would do anything, really, I was used to dealing with them. All those were an experience. They began and ended in their own ways, yet were nothing more. 

Then there was Luna. She defied everything too. She fought, thought, and did everything that was rare in ponies. She didn't have to be a pony or an Alicorn or even a princess anymore than I 'had' to be a demon. She was Luna, and she was currently crushing me in a hug of her own, making a sound that might have been sobs of joy; it was hard to tell with her face buried in my cloak.

I squeezed my eyes shut and saw red again. Script flashes behind my eyes, and everything but that fades to black. For a moment, I think I see the blueprints of some long memorized but presently unhelpful magitech resurface, only to fade just as quickly. It was almost like the days when I'd squeeze my eyes shut to increase the clarity of forsaken knowledge. I'd lie with my back to the ground and my muzzle to a sky that could not be seen and study them privately. I'd dare myself to understand everything and more, not because the task was one I could accomplish for the sake of others, but because those others would tell me that it was impossible if they knew what I was doing. Above all else, it had been for myself.

My scarred hindquarter stings. One of the cuts might have reopened.

If only I cared. I hug Luna tighter and try to shift out of her grip so that I wouldn't be nearly as crushed. When it was clear that she had me pinned in a way I couldn't turn to my advantage in any non-combative setting, I shifted into shadow, wriggling and slipped out of her grasp, but slipped back into my equinoid form again in order to keep her from falling onto the ground. 

I still felt dizzy, and while she wasn't holding me so tightly anymore, the feel of Luna's magic gripped my mind like a fever that I couldn't shake entirely. It was hard to stand on my own, but Luna, as perceptive as ever, let me lean against her. I felt her cold armor through my cloak and fuzzy coat and watched with casual interest and restrained curiosity as her determined gaze searched my face. Her expression wasn't hard, but she was unsmiling and I knew that her graceful, fierce solemnity could change to fury as soon as any combat began.

She smiled suddenly. I was still covered in dried blood and she just smiled, placed a kiss on my muzzle and held me closer. Her horn glowed white as she held me closer in the glowing light shining from her. I purred softly and nuzzled her while she scratched my cheek, jaw, and behind my ear with telekinesis.

"Do you have any idea just how much I missed you?"

I nuzzled her again and let her see a small half smile. "I might have some idea. But..."

Luna's eyes grow wider, brimming with curiosity and a couple tears of joy. She looks at me and my growing smirk with only admiration, intrigue, and adoration. 

"What is it?" she whispers, reaching up with a forehoof to stroke my bangs.

"I'd love to hear about how wonderful I am now that you've got me in your company. Isn't that far better than dwelling on what anything would be like without me?"

Luna's expression dissolves into a level stare and mock boredom. "You arrogant son of a book-"

I grinned a little, letting her get a quick glimpse of my fangs glinting in her light. "I can safely say that is certainly a new one. Now, what is it that you want to say? I do hope you realize that my Princess Charming still lives up to her name when she's mad."

Luna swatted my ear lightly. "You have no idea how much I have waited to hear you say something self-absorbed, or how I wanted to hear your voice-"

I stop her from continuing with a kiss while still holding onto her for support. If I thought that everything was dizzying before, I feel almost delirious now. Relief and her magic wash over me so that I can barely pick out the feel of my own among the invisible energy.

I don't want to pull away, and it's clear to me that she doesn't want to either. We'll have plenty of time for words later, but this is far more than enough.

Twinkle's voice calls from around the corner; he's finally caught up to me. His voice is still slightly nervous when he calls out.

"Sombra? Where did you-"

I can feel his magic; he's behind me - but I have no way to see him. He can see me very clearly.

Luna pulls away at the sound of his voice. Before she looks to him, her eyes, filled with disbelief and nearly everything else imaginable, land on me. Did I upset you?

I shake my head slightly. I don't blame her.

A couple tears roll down her cheek and she swallows, giving me one last kiss for now. I turn and watch her trot cautiously away from me, nervous energy that she refuses to betray making her gait skittish. I say nothing, but they way her posture adjusts under my gaze is an obvious confirmation of my silent encouragement to any who could see it. She stands right across from him. Luna's armored legs shake and her glowing aura flickers around the edges as she looks toward him. Recognition, hope, and dozens of other raw feelings that I imagine she only half processed show on her face.

I look at Twinkle Star, who is rooted in place. It's plain that he doesn't recognize the daughter he left ages ago, even if he's unsure how to acknowledge it.

What can I say? I was right. He's not a stranger to her, but she's nearly unrecognizable to him.

The last thing he does before being tackled to the ground by a flurry of indigo and light is attempt to say her name. I watch him only manage to mouth it, a whispering, awestruck, and redundant confirmation in the form of her name before Luna collides with him.

I shrug slightly, at nothing in particular and try to clear my mind of the lingering haziness and stay standing while Luna radiates energy. I want her to be happy, even if I don't understand fully why she's overjoyed.

I can't say the sight moves me, but her smile always will.



...



"Just how bad is it?" Luna asks. Her forelegs wrap around me to half-ease and half-pull me into a proper standing position.

I let out a ragged cough and lean against her again. As soon as I do, Luna shifts to accompany my weight better, but not because of strain. She knows I need to lean against her, at least until we get going.

"Luna, the surge..." I can't finish. Sometimes words come easily in all this, as they always have - I've never been one to be left speechless. Now, I find the feverish grip of a surge Luna can't regulate distorting my focus. Adjusting to it and to having her fight with so much... so much...

I lean closer and feel her wipe a bit of sweat from under my bangs and her voice, suddenly distant, murmur that I feel a bit warm. 

"I can pull through," I manage. My voice doesn't sound incredibly strained. Were I not so articulate, somepony wouldn't believe anything was wrong. "Just lend a hoof if you can?" I'm dizzy enough that all certainty falls from my statement and pulls it into a hazy question.

Her melodic giggle fills my ears and I can't help but find a bit of clarity hearing her low, rich voice that never runs out of warmth for me. Some of the haze subsides, but it isn't enough. The pressure of her form and her lithe, lean muscles supporting me was an anchor.

"Always."

It was her reply, and one of the few simple things that I could always appreciate. Her voice still had traces of all the sobs that she had been waiting so long for. Even if the halls of Niflhel didn't echo with the sound of them any longer, I still heard them and how relieved she had been, and I watched how she quite literally glowed as she gave her father a crushing hug.

All I had done was watch. I didn't even watch him. She was the only one worth watching, and she had blinked back all the tears she still might shed later to put the present first. The catch of sobs was still in her voice, but I thought that it made her sound lovely, and nuzzled her softly to let her know this.

"Will you be able to fight?" she whispered in my ear, pressing closer to me to return her own nuzzle of agreement. The spot on my neck - a small, fluffy area that only just survived the gory treatment of the rest of my coat - was still warm after she pulled away. I tugged my cloak over the spot to preserve the feeling before nodding into her wither.

"I've fought in far worse conditions-"

"-but even that took time," she finished softy, kissing me behind my left ear and laughing softly when she sees me start, pulling my head up from her wither slightly and accidentally knocking the top of my head on her jaw.

After she's been crying, her laugh has a slight hiccuping sound to it and I can't help but give a bemused snort when I hear it.

It had taken time. The both of us have been dealt horrible hooves before and made them work. One day, there might be worse circumstances that we'll have to adjust to. Times like these aren't unconquerable, just difficult, and that is something familiar to the both of us.

She keeps nuzzling me, and I lean into every one. 

"Was the portal too much for you?" She mutters in my ear that I'm too tense, and whether or not I was meant to hear that, I don't know but she starts to rub my wither deeply. I try to pull away - it feels strange - but she starts humming and...

...maybe this is okay.

My purr follows not long afterward. Even the feel of her magic is so soothing right now. I may not be the easiest pony to understand or the most emotional in any conventional sense, but Luna always knows how to read me and have me smiling no matter where I am. Despite everything, I feel a small smirk playing across my muzzle and bury it where he wither and neck meet, purring louder when she wraps a wing around me. 

"No, Luna," I mumble into her coat and making every sensation of this moment last, "Difficult, yes, but too much... ? I-"

She catches me before my legs can buckle. I growl in frustration and Luna helps me stand. I sway on my legs and grab onto her with a forehoof, clutching the glowing limb tightly until the vertigo subsides.

"Are you going to be alright?" she asks with all the concern that only she's shown me, once again helping to steady me.

I shut my eyes and imagine nothing. "Y-Yeah. I can fight. Even if I couldn't, we'd still have to."

"Do you think that you should have gone with-"

"No," I say. Mustering a firm tone is automatic and takes no energy. "Ripping a portal from in here... in the air instead of using a gateway... I can work through this, Luna, and I know we can too." Controlling my panting breaths comes quickly enough. "Your father would have only hindered us."

Luna nods quietly, but her concern for me never vanishes. "I do not think he would even be mentally ready to face Umbra again or linger here much longer."

"You and me both. He would have ruined our strategy entirely. I'm sure Mac and Glitter Sprinkle will be able to keep him company on Pink Sunset and only set half the thing on fire before we return."

"Only half?" She arches an eyebrow. "That is far more trust than I would have expected you to put in those two."

"I prefer to think of it as wishful thinking."

Luna makes a sound between a laugh and a sigh before pulling me into a hug. "We have a battle to fight then, do we not? I know not how long my magic will last in this state, so it would be best that we head off-"

"To eradicate the remaining member of my species," I half-grumble, unable to manage anything more than a mildly enthusiastic expression, pricking my ears forward and the barest, momentary twitch of a smile.

"How oddly eager you are about this, Sombra," she says cocking head to the side and looking at me curiously. "Do you not see it as a somber task?"

"I've been looking forward to it almost as much as I had been waiting to see you again."

She nuzzles my neck. "Will there ever be another... ?"

"No." I pull her close, knowing that we'll be fighting soon and I won't get to enjoy a moment like this with her again for some time. "There were more before me, but demons... well, we're preventable. I know we are. If we succeed here, I'll be the endling."

For a moment, Luna is silent except for her calm breathing. "Do you really not think that shall be a burden?"

"I don't. Will there be consequences? Yes. There's consequences for nearly anything, it's just a matter of dealing with them, avoiding them, or taking some other option. Either way, major or minor, they're inevitable, wouldn't you agree?"

"I would," she says softly, remembering something. For that, I purr briefly until she shifts again.

"Not going through with this would be far worse. There wouldn't be a world, or enough left of one to linger on for much longer if we fail." The last part was such an obvious statement, and it had been on our minds from the start of this adventure, in one way or another. She clutches me again, in another hug that's tight and desperate to escape the feeling of this place before releasing me and holding me at length so our gazes can meet.

She pulls off a hopeful, yet somber look well, but her frown is genuine and worried. Luna isn't going to ask me if anything's going to be alright, or if we'll come out of this victorious. The grim reality of battle is something she knows, and I've never seen any like her, who still manage to go into the probable end of the world or any crisis with hope. She has so much life left in her when others would break, be left as husks, or worse.

I love her.

Nuzzling Luna again, I let my still-clearing mind wander to my own magic. Compared to her glow of power that is currently quite steady, my magic is...

I give her a kiss, and she reciprocates instantly.

...My magic is failing.

There's only so much more I can do before I just...

Burn out.

I'm not a source of infinite power. The feats I've been pulling off as of late are draining, new, and actually challenging. My magic will falter. It won't be now, but it'll be soon. Physically, I may not be exhausted, but I will be with time. She can't have me as a liability. I won't let her be harmed because of me. While I've fought battles that have exhausted me before and even if I push my limits to improve, what I'm doing is dangerous.

Luna gives me a cautious smile, suspecting nothing behind my current level stoic-ness. Her gaze tells me everything: it's time to go. I nod, and she takes flight, waiting for me to run alongside her, in her shadow, in order to navigate these warped halls in search of Umber.

This is just like regeneration, where I pulled and pieced every part back after the Heart blew my body up and sealed Onyx, before my first journey with Mac began. Sure, it may have been hours before I was in proper shape, hiding myself in the mines of Mt. Topazora for a while, but I knew then.

I knew that after three months I would be dying. The amount of extremely complex magical feats and straining tasks - like cross country teleporting - I did would need to be controlled and avoided when possible. I had to prolong what was seemingly inevitable and manage the magic that kept me from progressing into a worse state regulated constantly.

This feels like that all over again. I know I'm immortal. I know I'm a god.

But now, I'm an outcast to both of those factions. I used to be mortal, and I know exactly how to die and what dying feels like.

This entire scenario feels like that, only now I don't have something as minor as death as a potential end, but much worse possible fates if anything goes wrong.

I'm only just learning of what I can do as a god and getting used to the power and ability as my disposal. No matter how powerful I am, and have always been, force isn't my chosen path to victory. As much as I may enjoy burning things, showing off, or whatever else a common imbecile with the observation skills of a purple pest would think suggest otherwise, I chose form over power. Every large scale plan that I follow is filled with space to accommodate consequences, desires, and my own egotistical whims.

I'm not a chess master. Chess is honestly foalish to me, especially when you consider what it symbolizes. Celestia's game is her own. I'm not incapable of decisions and schemes crafted on impulse, nor am I unable to work a miniature grand design of my own and manipulate others into it.

I can spot disadvantages like nopony else, and right now there's one major one.

I think it might even be me...

Weapon, weapon, weapon... echos a simple and unexpected taunt.



...




Luna flies above, and I gallop after the trail of light she leaves behind, not bothering to keep track of passing time. There is no subtlety to this - she leaves a trail and my hoofsteps are far from quiet.

I may be behind, but with my magic, I'm able to sift through the crystallized magic around us, probing around as we move. It's far easier now that I've been through it and understand this material and place far more. I like to think of this new skill like it's some kind of cartography. All I do is use my sixth sense to detect myself; the world spreads out before me. Next, I track Luna, which is simple. Then, I reach out and probe below the surface...

...I have to keep my focus both above and below, pulling at patterns and traces in order to locate Umber. The whole experience was me literally having to look in two places at once, as well as sense his proximity to us while following-

My irises flashed red again, and below the surface of the äerint, tinted scarlet, was a red thread, flickering brighter than the world around it.

It would lead us straight to the Heart of Niflhel, where it seems Umber was waiting.

At the thought of seeing him again, anger began to spark once more. I couldn't help but savor the feeling. My horn shot off a couple scarlet sparks, breaking away from my sparkling aura with a sudden hissing sound. A quick guffaw from Luna followed.

After all, where there's a spark, fire follows.



...




Magic, multicolored fire licks at my horn again when Luna and I spill into the Heart of Niflhel. Umber's hollow gaze, now sharpened with cruelty and looks at Luna - my Luna - with a sudden hunger from where he stands waiting. Luna's glow makes his coat look even more luminescent.

A growl begins to grow in my throat, and not a usual growl. This one is truly vicious. He won't be breaking Luna. She's not some toy. She's a goddess and dearer to me than anypony else in this world.

Lightning crackles in her speed trail, and Niflhel shakes with a sound louder than thunder. I brace as it shakes with her power like the Sky Scraper in the hurricane. The feverish feeling that such an outburst brings takes effort to combat, but I'm focused and angry enough to force my mind to clear.

Who is-

Umber - as dull as the color I've named him after - never gets a chance to finish. Luna's eyes are glowing and her lips are pulled into a snarl as she screams a raw, savage battle cry with the Voice of the Alicorns - something that was meant to be used for events like this instead of stilling mortal crowds. She flings herself at him with her horn glowing a blinding light. I have to duck my head and skid to a stop as she flies forward with full force. A pair of wingblades unlike any I've ever seen or heard of before has materialized on each limb, bright and as clear as glass but with none of the fragility. They sparkle in her light, gleaming and iridescent . Hoofblades are soon upon her forelegs before she finds her target and unleashes merciless vengeance.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't watch her maul him with the utmost satisfaction before I lit my own horn and prepared for battle, script trailing across my cloak with excitement. Now that I know their nature, reading them isn't as difficult as before. They each detail some spell or strategy that was on my mind.

I may be nearly drained, but I still have more than enough to work with. And even if I didn't, I wouldn't exactly have a choice. It would have to be enough.

Battle has never been something that I've had much of a disadvantage in. From the beginning, it's always been one of the easiest things to make sense of in many ways, including quite a few morbid ones. The best fighter is a thinker, and I've always been a thinker first. The best thinkers are confident and the best of the confident are insane.

I'm all of the above.



...



This was going to be messy from the start. Umber wasn't just going to die on us if we cut the right places. I didn't doubt that he might've even 'died' once before since he did siege the world ages ago. Scars other than a broken horn were likely, and unlike me he couldn't possess others in an attempt to regenerate what had been lost.

He had sacrificed everything for this power. Nothing was left in this monster. He wasn't even concealing the blatant torture he was enduring, everything about his very existence with whatever other demons where within him ans his summoner was painful. He'd broken gods before, he knew this. 

It wouldn't even bee an exaggeration to say that I think he was enjoying this, if there was any face left for him to convey that with. Or a head. 

Thanks for that one, Luna.

He was gone. He was power. So much of him was just nothing at all.

A wave of fresh blood hits me, and I take it, unflinching. I doubt that I'll be coming out of this with any bit of my coat or mane showing through.

He was largely distracted by Luna. Only his ability to sense magic was guiding him. Luna was angry. I can't blame any for focusing on her. She's the reason that the world itself is trembling, and it is her Voice that splits that constant clamor and nearly unbearable static of everything else with cries for slaughter and screams that weren't so different from songs.

She was one of the most brutal, violent, and terrifying things that I've ever witnessed.

She was awe-inspiring. Her fighting is exactly what it needs to be and more. She has a brilliant mind, especially when it comes to battle. She can be savage and even honorable - something I'd usually roll my eyes at more than I would with her. Luna knows I'm mostly just teasing when she gets into matters of honor. I prefer pride.

She was beautiful. Being covered in the blood of my enemies isn't a bad look for her. Luna had done more than enough to earn her own messy suit of crimson matting her fur and running down her dark armor.

Umber's wings were all that he needed to keep up his onslaught of magic. Their  äerint-coated feather tips were the only thing that let him do any magic in his broken state.

To help Luna and allow myself greater time to plan, I use my magic to do something that's quite easy: warping and tilting the äerint that Umber stands on in order to ensure that Luna is able to strike where she needs to. He fights back when he can, and knows each move I make when it comes to dark magic, but my maneuvers still help Luna. He knows that he has his own advantages. The worst enemy is one that thinks.

Luna was lucky. Her magic was capable of shattering his skull and taking most of his head messily. The only thing that's keeping him intact are these bizarre matrices I can partially feel between their strikes. Their for situations like this and more, I imagine. He has been killed at least once hasn't he? 

I dismiss that particular piece of information for now and focus on trying to subtlety bring him towards or away from Luna as needed.

And just like that, Luna's glow is gone. White bleeds out of her mane and tail. If it weren't for her agility, she would have fallen from the air. Both the sight of a narrowly avoided cut with a sudden spike of äerint from the walls - one that would have likely taken off a wing otherwise - and the returning wave of vertigo that comes from feeling such a drastic change in magical levels. This wave is more than I've ever felt before, and it reignites the sensation of all the anger I have known, increased tenfold because he hurt Luna.

I don't growl. My mind buzzes with static and realization as my horn glows brighter and a wave of familiar dark emotions crashes into me, where I stand immovable, before settling like a familiar mantle.

My glare finds Umber easily, though he doesn't know it. I've never glared at any this intensely before and all the malice I've ever had pours into the gesture effortlessly. I can't feel myself breathing, and it doesn't bother me. I'm completely still, which is the exact opposite of what happens during my panic attack, as though I needed some other sign to assure myself that I was okay.

I tilt my head to side a little, scowling and fix my unwavering, eerie stare on Umber at all times. My eyes follow him when my body does not. The sound and feel of everything else is entirely significant.

He hurt Luna.

Red swims over my vision again, but no script glows. I feel my eyes glow.

I do not laugh. I do not smile. I do not move.

Luna still flies but he hurt her.

Everything sinks in on a repeat.

Dark magic tries to bubble up with my welling fury and fails, bleeding into red. My mane tries to shift bit by bit, but fails and it falls again, in gore-slicked strands. Crimson aura, like fire in how it blazes creeps up my legs and spreads from the glow of my horn. The ever shifting script that goes with it carves itself out aggressively and shakes angrily, the lines that make up each character ragged like slices in a wound.

In flesh.

Inhibitions have long since faded, and all the magic I'll be able to use for a long while is mustered both willingly and automatically.

He hurt Luna.

I slowly withdraw Fate while Umber is distracted, and as soon as it was free from its sheath, fire from the aura enveloping me spreads to the blade that now glows with heat and the infectious energy of my magic. I worked a small bit of dark magic onto my horn, and maneuvered it around the raging red, pulling at parts of my core, switching, and altering inner workings until a predicted sense of dizziness washed over me.

And then it vanished quicker than it came. I was left feeling lighter than before. The work wasn't as practiced as it could be, but that wouldn't stop it from working as I intended. Sword gripped tightly, I purged all dark magic as soon as I heard the booming cracks and claps of Luna's lightning, where she flew and dived across the gaping chamber. Her convenient distraction makes it easy to conceal my work.

Unfiltered rage sharpens my mind to include the world once more and the effect has the suddenness of whipping back a curtain to expose light to a light sleeper and the endless noise of this place, now in the sounds of battle, returns instantly.

The single thread of red light is still beneath the äerint floor like a plant beneath ice, waving and glowing as it continues to sway about, pinned beneath a solid prison where it never tangles. I'm reminded of the lights of the Crystal Heart. The tri-colored aurora waved as freely across the sky as this thread does.

Pausing, I take the time to look at it again, and feel it. Then, after it passes under my critical glare, I let my horn glow even brighter and wrench the transparent string free, bringing it to my side. The aura around me reacts strongly to it, script popping excitedly before the rest merges with the fire that has engulfed every bit of Fate. Only then do I realize that it was subtle unconscious movements and willpower that I had simply been distracted from that enabled this.

With that in mind, and a new weapon to have some fun with, I wait no longer in creating a jagged protrusion of äerint in front of me.

Galloping forward and up it gives the adrenaline gnawing at me something to do before I kick off, using my newfound lightness to jump even higher, Fate aflame and raised above as I sail through the air in one large leap, screaming in rage.

My pride won't go unavenged.



...



He lost a wing. That's it. Just one wing, tangled in threads of my magic and cut, pulled, and breaking bone before my blade and rough slices of my magic did. That was all I managed before the walking remains of this monster managed to fling me away.

My back hit the crystalline ground with a thud that knocked most of the wind out of me; I gasped roughly - the choked sound was all I could manage. However, I wouldn't let myself stay down long and focus seeped through pain as I pushed myself up, horn lit once more and Fate held up defensively, the flat sides of the blade guarding me and ready to push all others away.

Combat was basic instinct for me. Yes, it took practice to grasp the entirety of that instinct and master it as I learned what could aid me - weapon mastery was not entirely natural to me, but to recognize the capability of another always came easily, and was only bettered with practice. 

It was an instinct I was glad to have - the natural inclination to all this, yet it's also what has branded my entire species as weapons and those who submitted to power. But not me. No, never me. I wasn't going to let that be what happened to me, whether I knew the specifics of other demons or not. All my life, I've been drawn towards learning and exploring the world instead of harming everyone in it. The mechanics of a fight and how good it makes me look mean more to me than whose wing I've cut. Severing a limb - something I'm all too used to - is something that still has such an everyday feel for me. I always could see what's happening, but I wanted to know why. It's how I figured out that something in the Crystal Empire, all that was happening, was wrong. I've just never seen enough.

That's just one reason of many why I'm superior. I knew myself, and I stayed myself. I bettered myself, and learned everything for my own selfish purposes. I analyzed every facet of myself and checked every desire. I schemed and bided, refusing to succumb to some whim that I couldn't justify until I was bound by obsession.

Until I was obsession. I wasn't like Onyx, Hasad, or Umbra. I wasn't like whatever ponies made Penumbra or Antumbra either.

I stand, shaking, not with fear or anything like it, but with slowly growing fatigue. The threads are gone, but the useless and butchered limb lays on the ground. The frayed feathers are already trampled, but the coating on them remains. Luna dives down again; I don't focus on her once she's in motion.

'He', Hasad the summoner, sacrificed himself and all that might have been there in the first place to create Umber the Obnoxious. He wrote the Book, and I don't doubt that it promised him something...

I flare my horn and bathe the world in red, flooding my vision with as much script as possible, streaming from me outward and wrapping around each and every uneven surface. I felt lightheaded as I began to sift past them all, focusing past and below Umber, trying to glimpse just a bit of-

The paradox and curse of a meaningless name was the wish of Hasad.

I swallow sharply, only to find that my throat is completely dry. Script swarms my vision, and I blink clumsily only to find that won't work. I felt lightheaded.

He wished to destroy himself, with magic that would do so anyway? That...

I managed to cut the light of my horn and suck in a breath for my aching lungs. I had to will myself to blink, and in the aftermath of that, it felt like the world was spinning.

Luna was doing such a good job with her blades. I saw each expert maneuver and swift, strong blow. She was greater than any whirlwind, and focusing on her eased some of the ache that came with my discovery. I could spend hours, in a calmer place where the heat of battle was of no importance at all and I didn't need to play every move in the same wonderfully twisted game, just watching her and listening to the sound of her voice... or seeing the way her eyes light up...

My throat feels tighter. I don't even need one guess to know why.

...the way her eyes light up when she sees me. Or how the terrifying aspect of her war cry is why I love it so much, and of course, how could I forget the voice that drips like water into a crack, soaking where no sound can reach me, to pull me out of a frenzy... 

I love the chill of snow on my coat, desert nights, and an icy wind running through my mane, but she's irresistibly warm whenever I cuddle with her...

I gather myself, letting thoughts drift in the back of my mind. My magic feels flighty of all things, and it makes me ill. As always, I push back the pain and draw myself together.

Her laugh is its own kind of song, I think. She's always willing to ask me questions and approach me even when I'm angry... She still loves me even when she's seen me angry. I've never seen somepony as sensitive as her be so intelligent and intuitive, knowing not to put faith in ponies. Every time she looks at me with an expression many would dismiss as aloof, all I've ever seen are two eyes and that gods-damned pout that tell me everything...

The red thread underhoof returns when I realize that I've let my horn glow for so long, and it has multiplied as well. Ideas start to form and I force myself to only dwell on about the dozen most promising ones instead of all of them, which really is a shame... but then again, my focus is slipping just a little bit.

It's because of her, that I find myself smiling and even laughing. Sometimes, I've realized that I'm thinking of things to say - not because I have to tell somepony how incompetent they are, or berate them, or any of that... but because I genuinely want to talk to her, and I have longed to for ten centuries...

I pull each one from the barrier that divides me from them and give Umber and his movements my full attentions, observing all that plays out before me with a scowling, effortless, grim and hyperfocused stare as I yank each thread free from crystal. Through each one, magic stirs and flows in a way that my distracted mind only bothers to compare to water in a pipe - 'water' that is reaching me. One of the ideas that I had running about in my mind bursts to the forefront of my mind. I add yet another feat to the number of tasks I'm currently doing: I begin to drain magic through the threads.

My heart pounded. Some of it was from strain. My magic was depleting and being restored at the same time.

The sensation of thread large enough to be considered a thin rope wrapping around any exposed bit of my legs and being merged with the magical part of my nature is a slightly uncomfortable one, but I'll manage. I feel the cool shock of magic spreading through me, writhing just under my skin and crawling about before settling.

Umber is just power. I don't mean he's like me, born of magic and living power altered and able to take an undeniably real form that's no less alive than a pony. He's just power. There's no thoughts or anything that make him an individual. 

He tried to change. He tried to blend the two, and now there's this gaping nothingness in him - in all of the other demons that eventually bled into this painless monster that isn't unable to feel his own skull being blown apart. I know that what's left of him registers it... but just doesn't acknowledge or comprehend any fear, thought, or anything.

What's really frightening isn't how an ignorant pony would look at Umber and say he isn't there - he is, it's why I would never attempt to control whatever horrors are in his head, even if I was certain I was able to - it's that he is. He's impulse, just to a different degree that Onyx was.

He's not a tyrant, a sociopath, a slaughterer, a cold-hearted psychopath... whatever you want to toss out there, he's really not that. I can feel what he is. I can feel it all through the magical high I'll be giving myself - one with an even greater burnout - by draining various parts of the energy from the äerint of Niflhel. The usually dull crystallized magic now had a faint crimson glow pulsing ominously behind it in places. My own restoration quickly followed, and I almost frowned at the thought, but instead chose to maintain grim stoicism so I wouldn't be read easily. But could I really blame myself? Once this feeling is gone...

Alicorns are a deathless species and demons are a mortal one. Umber has an Alicorn's immortality, since he's stuck somewhere between the two. I don't think that the Book was ever meant to corrupt Alicorns... and he, Hasad, must've known this. He wanted this wretched limbo. If Luna and I end his body and expel his soul that clings so tightly to the hideous vessel, wound with the other souls of the other demons behind his purple eyes, then he'll only be gone, drifting, for a short time. A few centuries, most likely. Not even half a millennium. He'd only scatter about the world, and there would be no way to exploit his ignorance any more. The world, as it stands, is only a fledgling. I am, quite literally, the greatest advancement and magical feat to appear since the Collapse.

Worse, he could regenerate a horn, and there's no telling what would be the result of the rest of the demons that are left in him thrown out into the world... or maybe just overflowing Tartarus. I'm not going to take this particular gamble, that's certain.

We have to destroy them all. I'm to be the endling. He has to be pushed to the point of performing, as Luna puts it, The Spell.

And he's just pure power, he's living, thinking corruption... so to end him, one who knows next to know feeling... Luna and I would need pure power. We would need to be something more than Luna, the world's youngest goddess, who may be able to forgo sleep and siege non-stop for weeks, but is unable to muster enough of her magic in here after a surge like that. I may not have witnessed any of it for myself, but she told me the Tribesponies would have never gotten their hooves on young Luna and her sister if they hadn't been exhausted from the immense surge that marked their awakening godhood and...

There's so much more, of course. I'd have to ask her-

And then there's me. The world's newest god, drained and exhausted as I near limits I'll have to work tirelessly to surpassed...

Every plan that's flooding my mind is more desperate than the last, and the details that I've thought up in this state... I shiver slightly and carefully begin to pry the rest of the fading threads from me. Luna can only hold him off for so long, and I'll use whatever stamina I have left to fight alongside her.

And I can only fight for so long. She and I - we compliment one another. I based this plan on our strengths...

Fate remains sheathed. I'm done with such simple toys, at least for now. I'm not going to be doing anything drastic, I don't have enough for it... not after my foray into Everything and-

I'm not just going to rely on the abilities of a demon either. So much rage is still be stoked within me and as of right now-

I pull a small bit of my cloak away and give my gore-matted, fluffy gray chest a glance. The few bits of smokey fur - the fluff on my chest that Luna described as 'snuggly' and with an assortment of soft shrieking noises and excited squeals that were usually muffled by said fur - that poked through grime had growing strands of something darker weaving its way in. 

However grim I looked right now, I was furious enough that my coat was already starting to shift into shadow. Retracting my left boot into a legband with magic, I ran my forehoof through my messy mane and found that, as I had expected, locks of my mane were shifting as well.

The nearby sound of a war scream that rocked Niflhel and the gleam of my metal boots in the dark brought one particular idea to my attention, and the ghost of a dastardly smile managed to find its way through anger, and only looked colder when a strike of Luna's lightning illuminated it perfectly to reveal a glint of fangs.



...



I had jumped into the air again, already smug, triumphant, and positively enraged before my body melted into shadow that was more than big enough to wrap around Umber and make him vanish within my smokier form. My willpower might as well have been tangible to him, since he could feel my magic and how I steeled myself. Accidental possession wasn't something that was going to happen now, not with my focus and want. This was not a causal form change. Everything was too fast for him with my advance and Luna darting about in the air. Her godly speed was rendering her as nothing more than a dark-hued blur dodging strikes that would have been all but lost in the dark if it weren't for the occasional spark of lightning that outlined her and then vanished.

He certainly didn't see my boots. I wasn't wearing them when I jumped and certainly wasn't now. I had temporarily repurposed them. They were a set of metal strips that I could fashion into perfectly uniform blades with my magic and manipulate just as easily. So I did the only reasonable thing: I threw them into my shadow form's body.

I am now a whirling mass of shadow with dozens of knives tumbling in my body - the uniform shapes make this less dangerous - surging forward toward Umbra, tumbling each knife about individually and keeping them from falling or any other disaster from occurring. As I grow angrier, some of this requires less concentration. Manipulating weapons isn't much of a second thought for me, so I only need to devote concentration to so many of the array of blades.

I'm utterly horrifying and I love it.

Just because I can pass through things, doesn't mean that I have to possess them. With living creatures, there is more risk in accidental possession, but with what I'm experiencing now? There'll hardly be a consequence from that. All I need to worry about is knife manipulation. 

I sink into Umber viciously, forcing my way into his being from his side and making every moment as painful and brutal as I possibly can. He resists and attempts to attack me in any way he can and shove me out. I counterattack with brutal efficiency and then begin to tear him apart. From within him, I scream the sound only my shadow form can make, and the world quakes with my fury.



...



I was thrown gasping from the living remains of Umber. His soul - and all the others, in whatever places unseen they were - was tied to that disfigured, one-winged form that now had little left in terms of a rib cage after I was done with it. He was persistent, sure, but so I was I. In fact, I was above him in every way, as was to be expected, and stubbornness was one of those. If there's anything he should've picked up about me, any enemy of mine can at least agree with my allies on the fact that I am both immovable object and unrelenting force.

I formed my legs once again first, so I could properly implement my boots again. As messy and grisly as they were now - though Umber was a far grislier sight - they still functioned. I reconstructed them quickly, meddling with the magic that managed how I light I was so I could skid across the äerint ground as I slipped into equinoid form once more. 

My cloak flared out behind me, the only vibrant color among blacks and grays. The gore on my coat, and on everything else had mostly fallen away, revealing fluffy gray cloaked in crimson. When I faced the misshapen living corpse of Umber, it was I stance I assumed automatically: ready to do just about anything in an instant, and imposing and immovable without being rigid. I was nothing short of dangerous.

Umber made a motion that was like scooping his one remaining wing into the same ground I had skidded upon, and 'pulled' a wave of äerint up before pushing it in my direction.

I effortlessly countered it with my own barrier that obscured his view of me and Luna's. As I intended, it also hid that the aura on my horn was so thin that its crimson color was barely visible and that my breathing was rough. I caught the glimpse of my eyes in the dull luster of the crystals after they converged and knotted into a mess of gray and magical sensations tangled below it all, petrified and unmovable as they forever cancelled one another out.

Looking at the visible fragments of my distorted reflection, I saw the slight unfocused look in my eyes. It wasn't a sane look - how could I, the Right-Honourable Lord Sombra ever manage anything like that outside of deceptive purposes? I knew every mad look I was capable of, but this one... it was scared too, and not without reason. I gritted my teeth - that habit won't be dying anytime soon - and inwardly praised myself for the restraint I was still able to manage. It may not matter if whoever is in my way knows I'm afraid, or can guess. It's knowledge and what can be done with it, no matter how 'insignificant'.

Leaping up, I pose myself - proud, observant, and ready to fight until Luna and I emerge victorious - atop the newest feature of the gaping hollow that he calls 'Heart'. Fate makes plenty of noise as I jump - I'm not aiming for stealth - and is the only thing that hasn't been altered by my form switching. Demon blood, dried, drying, and fresh covers the surface of the blade so that even the veins of red crystal aren't as easy to see with a quick glance.

Desperate measures are the only things on my mind. I'm now without much more than the barest minimum magic and the abilities of a demon. My dark magic isn't going to be of much use either, and whatever feat I attempt next with it will be my last...

Physical combat is out of the question. With Luna's control over the moon and Celestia's likely growing instability time wasn't something we had to spare... or at least, she didn't. 

Inside the flesh of Umber, but not possessing him, the damage I had inflicted was something to be proud of. There was still the matter of rending his soul from his body. He was doing more than just inconveniencing me, and my anger would not be diminished, even if my power could be. I was fighting constantly with everything I had left, attempting to manage powers I had only a rough grasp on so far. There was always time to think, but for Luna and I there had always been more to fighting than Umber's sloppy, if overwhelming and dull onslaught.

And in there, drifting about his marred form I hadn't been able to see what he did to Luna, where my magic overwhelmed all and his was shoved in my face, blurred with everything else while my cruelty was unmasked and paramount. I fought for control. I was above control, and I controlled him, clinging to each jagged edge of what remained of his body to work as much damage as possible.

There was no way I could have seen what had happened or felt it clearly when vertigo was becoming a constant I had to manage.

Luna was within the distance of another flying leap and another skidding stop from me, and her horn...

I can no longer keeping my breathing steady or ignore the echos of my pounding heart in my ears because-

I know it's an illusion and all a matter of how I perceive things, but nothing else can match the speed at which my horror shows as everything around me slows down. I only have time to see the äerint growing on her horn - äerint I won't be able to remove...

...Everything feels worse than when I was vomiting blood at Celestia's hooves as she tried to force the end on me and...

Luna's eyes meet mine, the look in them as wild as can be. Tears are in the corner in her eyes when she sees me. While Luna may not be able to sense magic, the look in my eyes tells her everything, but without the blunt sensitivity that she presents. It is a quick, quiet look.

And then I focus on her right wing. One of the wingblades that she had been fighting so freely with was caught in a similar attack to the one that disabled her magic.

With my heart feeling like it's caught in my stomach and the weight of everything that could've gone right... and the knowledge that she's as trapped as I once was, without magic, no less...

Instantly, I let anger and cunning exist alongside whatever gamble I might have to make less of a tragedy with whatever desperate machinations I have left because...

I don't need to finish, everything's already they're. She's caught; we're surrounded.

I force myself to look at her wing, forced to be caught and dug into the ground with äerint-

Taking a sharp breath, I feel something poke my ribs as misery settles in, advancing once again. Absentmindedly, I give a sideways glance to the source: Fate bumping my ribs, the sheathed blade still bloodied... and so am I.

In the direction of Umber, I feel him start to work dark magic with that one remaining wing, but not against me - I was immune to it. To Luna, trapped unless she could suddenly 'pop' off a wing without consequences, from a foal's perspective. Or survive the blood loss and shock of her attempt to pull free - and to pull free is to lose her wing and rip it from the rest of her. 

'Agonizing' would be the briefest way to put what that ordeal would be; I've severed the limbs off others myself. There are words for these things, and an individual with a mind as strong as my clever Luna has would be able to process everything in rich detail. She'd be damaged, and then what? There's no escape and no salvation.

I feel him ready to deal a deathly blow to her, the result of his magic would leave her in a state where she'd be better off dead... and he wouldn't stop there. He'd damage her in every way. I can see her writhing, knowing that something dark is in store - her instincts have always been good - but she can't read magic like I can. Every bit of Luna says that she doesn't think she'll make it.

I don't have any complex, expertly planned phenomena to get me out of this one. Without any scheme or other feat traditional for my esteemed self and the current circumstances all added together, there's very little I can do.

Yet... One last time I light my horn with all the crimson aura I can muster from my drained body, heavy with exhaustion and filled with endless stubbornness that outweighs the former.

Always, I have my pride. 

I will always be selfish. I cannot stop being selfish, and will express it in any spiteful, cryptic, dangerous, and bizarre way I choose.

What's going to stop me?

In fact, I'm so selfish that in the brief window of time that Luna has to even acknowledge the wave of magic coming for her, where she has no escape or room to even attempt to maneuver around what would engulf her, I do the most selfish thing.

I jump between the two, closing the distance and letting everything collide.

The last thing I hear is her screaming my name.
> Chapter 49: Tales of the Eternally Selfish
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Luna:



When I opened my eyes, the world came to in shades of red and the sound of my own forceful scream still rung in my ears to the point where it hurt to focus on my sense of hearing. I could feel my own heart rattling around in my chest, beating about irregularly and racing so hard that it hurt and a foggy part of my mind was telling me that everything bearing down on me was happening much faster than I knew it to be.

Moisture stung my eyes and the breaths I drew in through my mouth felt thin and quick, stinging my throat as tears did my eyes. The hot spatter of blood that was not mine or Umbra's seared uncomfortable into me. This was the blood of somepony whose blood I should not feel, not like this. My horn was bound, my magic gone - I could not heal him. The crystal around my wing had been cut with something else, something red and glistening like no blood I knew.

How was I to see them? I felt my eyes open wide, my constant, shallow breaths and the tearing pain in my chest that no magic could heal, but I saw not a single thing in front of me. Inside, I felt like I was screaming. Closing my eyes meant that I would have to see everything again, and feel it all in tandem the sight of gray äerint colliding with the form of Sombra, who appeared but for a blink before-

Yet, if I keep them open, the visions may blur, but they are never distanced and I feel it over and over all the same. My shaking only grows and I fall to the ground, colder than ice, where I still shiver and the only warmth is from the putrid feeling of my love's warm blood clinging to my coat.

He saved me... almost... Each word was emphasized with a clumsy, loud heartbeat.

I made a choked whimper in an effort to vocalize anything at all and hot tears began to run from my eyes, and I made a few rapid, careful blinks and struggled to gasp because of the lump in my throat that made breathing feel so difficult. My mane spilled out behind me, twitching with the occasional sparkle, and an occasional somber ripple at most.

I wanted to be like Sombra, and release a form that must bear so much weight and melt into anything - into the ground, shadows, just any dark and lonely place would do, where I would be safe and nopony else would be. I would be alone again.

I wanted him back, I thought, and with it came the poignant longing that I found with the memory that decided to infect me with its vividness: Sombra and I on Hearth's Warming in Germaneigh, so happy and all I wanted to do was wrap him in another hug and never let him be tormented by all that lurked behind those handsome red eyes and snarky smile. I didn't have to worry about the Tantabus or anything, I just had to hug him, stay by his side as he stayed by mine when I dragged him to every bit of mistletoe in the city, and start with small steps. We took them together. I couldn't stop smiling...

A shell of rough, glistening red crystal that dripped with spots of blood here and there kept me cupped to the ground like a bug under a bowl. Were I to defy this ever-growing grief that amounted to more and more recollections of every little memory and detail about him and stand up, I would still have enough room to fit him closely.

I wished nothing more to have Sombra, whole again, so that I could embrace him. I did not wish to trap him, he and I are not creatures to be trapped, but I wanted to embrace him tightly.

Everything was just starting...

My armor was a burden. It should not be, yet it was lighter than my heart and mind.

I wanted to sing to him, knowing he found the sound so sweet. Sombra still hadn't seen a proper play! I had never even given him a fabled fourth kiss, told him about all the new kinds of poetry in the world, and just how boring politics were. We had never gone hiking together and I still didn't understand calculus.

Every hope is worse than the deepest gouge of any blade or the cold shock of the moon, and I do not exaggerate such statements in my grief. My sobs grow louder until they are like pained screams.

He didn't know how much I loved him. I didn't know what his least favorite pizza topping was or his favorite place in Canterlot. We hadn't debated which philosophers of old were better. I wanted him to teach me how to joke 'ironically' and braid his mane. I don't think he had ever met a real cat. He was to explain to me the art of true dumpster diving and why coin melting was something beautiful.

He told me I was beautiful and knew what he meant. He knew me.

His jokes were always funny and nopony but him and Tia knew that I could sing, even if I only sung for him.

I wanted to listen to Sombra talk for hours and invite him to the next Gala so that we might crash it, since galas were dull. Even when an ordeal was boring, Sombra made it otherwise. We could grumpily discuss life as we often did.

And now, we could not.

Through my tears, I looked up at the temporary protection I now had: crystals borne of blood magic... and formed from his own blood. Sombra must have thought that these could combat the äerint for a while.

I loved him like I loved no other. He was somepony different - in fact, he was not a pony at all, and that only drew me to him - one of many reasons. All those reasons had been what drew me away from ponies.

With him, I could be myself in my entirety, and that included making mistakes. Sombra loved no princesses, but he did love Luna. I had never felt as happy as I did with him, except when I had been alone. He was easy to talk to and even easier for me to understand, no matter how enigmatic he could be. Were I to spend all eternity in an empty void, I would want no other than him to be my companion, if he chose to.

He had the nicest laugh and was too cuddly for his own good. He was not an honest pony because I do not believe that a pony could be as honest as he, and as both an eternal goddess and a former bearer of that Element, I know that honest ponies are few and far between.

Even sitting with Sombra had felt like such a treat.

He had the cutest little fangs no matter how much he tried to hide them.

Nothing he ever told me was a lie. I don't know who hasn't told me a lie other than him. Every member of my own family has. Ponies have done so near endlessly. I have struggled not to lie to myself. But Sombra never has, and he has lived the lifetimes of many and never once has he...

Sombra lives.

He does not go from here to there and start to end. He lives here and where and everywhere in between. He refuses, questions, and defies. He has pride! Sombra would not go so quietly. He'd be angry. He'd fight and resist. There would be suffering. He would be desperate, and in that desperation he would do something. This is simply not what my Sombra would do because there is nothing simple about him, nor will there ever be. In what way was he not indomitable?

We were to fight a living corpse, or something akin to the undead; Umbra blurred even those lines. I was unsure of just what I could do in order for him to trigger The Spell That Was No Spell in order to undo him once and for all. Instead, we had only left him bordering life, death, and somewhere in between. It will delay any regeneration and leave him like this... but this is no final solution, and it cannot stand.

In a vain attempt to stop the tears running down my face and staining it, I squeezed my eyes shut, and yet they still flowed through. I had always been sensitive, and when I did cry, it was more than just a few tears. I put my forehooves over my eyes and howled. Everything around me shook under the influence of the Royal Voice, booming with my despair. I was no longer just torn. I was enraged and without any plan. With Sombra gone, I had... I didn't have an escape. The plan that we had so carefully laid out relied on the both of us being present. There had been back up plans, but those had been if we found ourselves delayed or separated, not... not this.

I felt so consumed with anger as I was a thousand and one years ago - anger and much more - but now we... 

I...

I was a caged bird once again.

Emotion - mostly despair - continued to flood my mind. I tried with all I could to push past some of it and think. I had no magic, I was trapped under a barrier I could not control, I had no idea how long it would take to break under whatever onslaught of Umbra's came next, for it was inevitable.

With my eyes closed, I almost thought that I could feel the subtle, sweeping chill that came whenever Sombra was in his form of shadows. I sniffled. I felt so heavy with how much I missed him, I know that I should be up and trying to fight but...

I whimper and pull myself into a ball, wishing and willing for any of this weight to be dispelled. In doing so, my forehoof brushes something that was not there before, and I bolt up instantly, alarmed at the presence of anything else. Brushing tears away, I see what my leg had touched, poking me in one of the few places my armor did not-

Oh. I look down at myself and see that my necklace has returned, my armor having collapsed back into its usual form. 

Small cuts and bruises - noticeable, but not noteworthy - mark my aching body. Some of the weight of raw grief feels like it is settling over me again, like humid summer air, I can nearly feel it touching my coat.

What lies on the ground is a book, and not one that I have ever seen before. The book is not old or new, but looks a little bit worn, in a charming way. The color is a nice blend of slate and ebony - it is a handsome book. The pages have an older look to them, like an arrogant boast of how important their content is.

Curious, I gently scoop it up in my forehooves and hug it to my chest to examine it. There is no title on the front cover, but the spine is marked with a single word in a language I do not know. Every time I squint at the characters through my trickling tears, I feel that they make less sense, as though they shifted when I wasn't looking. However, I am quite certain that there are not many - whatever this volume is titled, it is short.

I pull myself into a standing position, my legs shaking a little and my mane just barely quivering. What was this book? I had never seen it before, and yet it felt like an old favorite, hugged to my chest.

Then I gasp upon noticing something else. Anger still stirs inside me, but not predominantly. I am only partially distracted by this new trinket. 

The tips of my wings are marked with black, and not an unfamiliar shade of it. My next gasp comes out as a choked sob, and all the wight returns. Panic presses down on me and I drop the book.

No, no, no...

It was only a matter of time before I would perish too, and a living nightmare takes hold... and... I-I d-do not think any Elements can 'save' me this time... In f-fact, I am quite certain that-

The book's pages were blank, or at least, they should be. I saw so myself when it spilled open after I dropped it.

Now they weren't. A single word in dark - but not rich - crimson marked the page.



Ow.



My eyes widened, and I felt every bit of turmoil within freeze with disbelief.

"S-Sombra...?" I managed, voice catching and fragile sounding, yet holding all my futile hope.



The one and only. I'm going to have a lot of explaining to do, aren't I?



I gently scooped up the volume once more, balancing it on my forehooves. "Yes, Sombra." I wiped away a few more tears. "You most certainly are."

Then I promptly dog-eared his pages.



OWWWWW! LUNA STOP THAT! AARGGH!



"A lot of explaining," I said, the ghost of a smile flashing on my muzzle.




...




"It's really you?" I whisper, heart pounding.



It is.



I couldn't help but imagine Sombra's tone coming out snappy as he pondered our situation.

"How...?" I ventured, unsure of what exactly I wanted to ask him. My heart kept pounding and the creeping black on my leg - it had stilled now, but our doom was sealed in one way or another. "Can you still sense...?" I hope he couldn't sense this, if I had any hope it was fragile and fleeting. Yet, it was all because of him that I was not sinking again...



I'm not a being of unlimited forms or one that can shapeshift freely like a draconequus or changeling. All my forms are limited in the sense that I can't just decide to do anything and it will be. It's not that I'm less stable, physically; you've felt me before. I'm just... not confined. I have multiple facets to what I can be, because I'm not the same as you are. I may be a transcendent equine - a demon - but I'm still an equine, just one that's part spell book in all this and an aesthetic sort of being. Naturally, I'm equinoid, a shadow, 'formless' magic, and a book. No, I can't feel magic that well in this form, everything's rather fuzzy. I know it's you holding me.



"Why a book, Sombra?"



It's my weakest form, if I'm to put it simply. I don't like to use it often, and I figured it'd scare you the least. ...How are you holding up?



"All is quiet now," I whisper hoarsely, glad that Sombra couldn't see me shaking or how alarmed I looked under the itching sting of corruption, "I am only waiting for the storm."



Luna...



It was impossible for my ears to be filled with anything but the sadness that Sombra's words held. He knew a thousand ways to say my name and keep it mine. It almost felt like a promise now. Luna. Luna.

"Can you still... do anything? This won't hold forever." My voice caught twice, at the pause and mention of 'forever' and my currently useless horn came to mind, along with an echoing taunt. Forever. Forever.



Truthfully? Not much... I'm only in this form so I can linger on as much as possible. It's the most limited of all of them. From here, I could slip back into shadow, which is how I had arranged myself into this one in the first place, and then into my usual body, but... I wouldn't last. The hit I took...



He did not need to finish and the grim reality of this tragedy was cut clearer yet again with our mutual understanding.

"A list, Sombra." His name has become something else right now, another meaning has been added to it. It feels like some kind of defiance and a reassurance of all the stability that is left. The other half to a constant that had had their path converge with mine so recently and now...

Sombra...



A list of what, Luna?



My eyes just barely saw Sombra's venture as my heart felt like it froze and it became hard to gulp down breath. All was still.

"...Of what you can still do." Tears stung my eyes, and I felt too frozen to blink them away. There were just too many.

He was the one I couldn't lose. I couldn't shake the memories of him that clogged my thoughts like a fever - and not an unwelcome one.

Sombra was quiet until a tear hit one of his pages, and the slowed beat of my heart seemed to stop, and it painfully - though slowly - went on, and because of it, I felt queasy.



This is all I can do: shift to shadow, talk to you telepathically as a shadow, relay any kind of information through here (if you wanted to see a chart, I could display one), and slipping through walls. That's really about it.



I knew that he was anything but calm, and I tried to talk just a little bit more before I would no longer have any chance. 

"You still s-sensed Umbra, how is it that he has lingered so?"



He's not much more than sapient power, and I don't think ever was anything else. There's nothing to really dispel about him, so he's rooted in a shell.



It was apparent that in our desperation we wouldn't be doing more than grasping at straws before he... I shut my eyes. It was so inevitable for him. A century or longer, if he managed to avoid some great trap, and he would reform in a wasteland. I would not be able to hold back longer. I had a clock about my neck, a helm to be upon my head again, and the walls of the darker parts of living madness to keep at bay - and I could not do so forever. We are a tragedy now, and we only fight an ending that is already written.

And I couldn't tell him what Nightmare Moon really was. Sombra has been nothing but forgiving and kind to me. He's the best pony I've ever known, precisely because he's not a pony. His love for me is one of the most sincere things - if not the most - that I have known. I won't hurt him by tarnishing that which he holds most dear. He says that he loves me for myself - everything that was below my mask, but I don't want to... I just can't tell him all of how that mask came to be.

"S-Sombra?" My voice is wavering and my heart is both in my throat and sinking faster than ever. His pages are peppered with tears that have fallen like rain. "I-I am so s-sorry."

Sombra...



Luna, there's nothing you need to be sorry for. I...



...and...

"I have everything," The word comes out scratchy, like my throat is parched and that single cursed word was clawed from it, "to be sorry for. I have lead you to your doom and Cadance and Shining Armor to theirs. I have bashed my father's last dreams and left my sister's heart shattered these last months. Neptune was a prophet, in a very sick way, I am broken, and what I've done to you is the worst of all. I feel as though I've done nothing but play with your heart and infect you. In the end, the here and now, I have only doomed you with what must've been insincerity and-"

...Luna...

Four words found their way onto Sombra's pages. I was able to read them clearly enough through the mist of tears in my eyes and how much I was trembling, shaking us both.



Do you love me?



"M-More than I've ever loved anypony. My sister was always this pure idol that I could never rival, and we made so many mistakes... It led to the Longest N-Night, the f-first one." There was my heart in my throat again, threatening to fall out, and spilling passions into every syllable. "She was there from the very start, and I was her shadow. But you and I, to m-me, we felt like... l-like..."

...forever.

"...forever," I spit, only because it was so hard to wrench that word from my trembling body as my blood-born prison and temporary salvation continues to glisten around me.



Luna,

I know that things are hopeless right now. You don't need to try and talk around it or apologize for things that aren't lies, but certainly aren't the truth. I'm not exactly unafraid too. I feel light, and before you picked me up, I almost felt cold. 

It's been a long time since I've found myself in this form again. I don't believe that your love for me was anything but sincere, and I saw it develop myself. Of course you'd doubt yourself right now, but even so, you're holding up far better than anypony else I know and even don't know would. All our lives we've done nothing but outdo everypony else, whether you were created superior or discovered you were. I hate ponies, Luna, but I'm fascinated by individuals, and you're one of the few there are. I wouldn't let that end now. We don't have much of a chance, if any at all. That's not a bad thing, either.

Life is life, and life is nothing short of shitty and just inherently 'there'. We're what makes it something.

When I was created, I was just thrown into all this space, vastness, and this world that had been sitting around and happening. It was a cold, indifferent world, and I loved it that way. Every bit of it was mine. I could be selfish and take all the little bits of it that I wanted. Everypony else was just alive in it. I saw that, and I've been in the minds of ponies both literally and through their words - they still didn't really live. They were statistics and present, but not worth interfering with in the ways that Onyx did. You and I are not statistics, princesses, demons, ponies, Alicorns, or anything else. 

We're Sombra and Luna. Luna is the most wonderful individual I've ever known, and she just happens to be an ageless, immortal, and undying goddess-princess. Maybe one day, Sombra will just happen to be a demon too.

I'm not going to let anything happen to take a world I'd gift to you away. I want you to have it. I want to go on living myself.

I'm too good for death, and an undying demon god, so there's that too. You're too good for a lot of things, and I have pride to defend and everything to back it and you up. I want to keep trying because I'm no stranger to gambles, and...

When I was younger, Onyx once asked me why I fought back. The circumstance and the where and when isn't important right now. The why is because he was a whiny and cruel brat and complaining. I retorted as I usually do: with defiance, with glorious sass, and just stubbornness that's nothing short of indomitable.

Then he did something that wasn't exactly unusual for him: he told me I had nothing to fight for. I took this to obviously exclude myself, despite how wonderful I am, and that I've got very little to doubt when it comes to wondering if I'm the closest thing that there is to the illusion of perfection. Onyx was actually right about something, but for all the reasons he didn't know. I did have nothing to fight for.

And that is why I told him I'd fight for everything: because I had nothing.

I'm not going to stop fighting, Luna, and I don't want you to either. How are you holding up by now?



"H-Horrible," I choked out, sinking to my knees and casting a quick glance at my leg. Most of my haunches were now black. Maybe I could tell him and pray that he does not feel as though his love for me is violated because of what he has learned about me. "B-But, Sombra, there's something I need to t-tell you... Badly..."

If I let my thoughts slip from the vice-like grip that was waiting to pounce as my focus dimmed and my heart ran wild, I could imagine Sombra looking concerned and just wanting to pull him into a hug and let the words spill out. I tried to steady my grip on his book-form and frantically watched his pages for an answer. This whole ordeal was like being one who can not swim and then thrown into a large body of water with weighted horseshoes.



Tell me.



"N-Nightmare Moon. It's about me as Nightmare Moon."



If I hadn't viewed that spectacle with a potion, I would have been able to feel the magic that you used for myself instead of just watched... Luna, I was horrified when I learned that happened. I still can't believe that wasn't dark magic.



And now for the truth, I think to myself, swallowing as my heart quivers with nervous beats in my breast.

"Sombra... that was dark magic."

The silence that followed died quickly. Red scribblings erratically appeared on the page and I nervously wondered if he was angry with me and how I was to comfort him and quell his anger in this situation. And then, below the storm of what might have been confusion were two words:



Explain. Quickly.



"Are you angry with me? Sombra, I-" Before I could even attempt to explain myself, something was already scrawled.



I'm angry, but not at you. We don't have forever and I will be short with you. Explain.



"After Discord, and fifty years after you, I started... slipping." My voice was unsure, and quavery, and while I tried to rein it in and speak levelly, the best I was able to manage was a passably steady whisper that came from focusing on the fact that I spoke to Sombra. He's always been or tried to be understanding, and if I keep trusting him as I have been, things might end less horribly. 

It was likely a futile plead to myself, but I tried.

"I remembered you. Like some sort of ghost, my memory of you and your magic haunted me. I wondered about it and where it came from as I fell further into despair and cutting myself on the edges of sinister thoughts that I let accumulate below the surface. I started focusing on everything in great detail - every little twitch. Things within were fast, timeless, and dark. Everything outside me was so... it was different. That is not my point, it is the magic you wished to hear about."



That would be correct.



I could nearly hear the gruff tone he would have said that with before I continued.

"I wanted to be somepony else. I couldn't escape who I was, or where I was. I longed for a new world that seemed to unfold not in my dreams or when I was awake, but between each tired blink and the moments where my thoughts drifted, growing ever darker in ways that I couldn't feel I could ever escape. I turned to magic. I always strived to grow my magical skill and learn so much more. I still lived in a dark age both internally and externally and found that I had so much emotion below the impassive look that was all I was able to manage."

I had never told anypony these things, not even Tia knew them all, and here I was spilling them all to Sombra, who might be able to understand. He would know why not all of this nightmare would go away... why I still remember it whenever I woke up, if you will. I have never forgotten a dream, real or metaphorical.

"I poured this into my work, and it became my only passion, and a sick, frenzied one. As I progressed, I found that all I had been writing and working on was beginning to be a comparable imitation of your magic. I didn't know of dark magic, but worked tirelessly to do what I could to imitate it, both in things like function and core principles. Dark magic, while having no name to me - it was just a nameless sickness that made up my addiction, was about change. Possibilities gone wrong. Unnatural things. Making monsters. What should never be. The rules that are no rules and the laws that are no laws, each applying to us all, are what dark magic seemed to try to alter, and contorted the caster to do it. I-Is that not true... ?"



it is



I went on. "I had no perfect imitation, but my own version that felt complete to me. I have been self taught, and devised my own ways for crafting enormously complex feats like this, and they are all non-standard. After all, you and I know that no pony would have been able to achieve what I did in fifty years, or even five hundred, and not of their own will. All this things led to my magic being different from, ah, true dark magic. On the Longest Night, I had mustered a frightening calm determination as frenzy raged below and used the moon to help channel and amplify what I was going to bring upon myself: as long as I knew the worst spaces of despair like that I had been going through, I would wear a face not my own."

Swallowing, I gripped Sombra's book-form tighter. "Nightmare Moon was a broken reflection, but a reflection nonetheless. Now I know that was supposed to be the demon; my spell was incomplete. I was in more pain than ever as Nightmare Moon, and neither separate nor whole, but masked. It was a mask I could not remove, but was not as bad as you and Onyx or Umbra and Hasad where it was unable to be torn from me, at least by another. After all, it was incomplete, and a bit of, uh, a 'knock off', as they say. While it was no pale imitation, it wasn't nearly what your dark magic is. Thus, it was neither dark magic or any other. I am sorry to have betrayed you likes this, Sombra. I sought to become what you have despised: a summoner. I just hated hurting so much... and being hurt by others, or watching them hurt around me. I wanted to end it all, for everpony's sake, and make me the only one who knew pain like that as I forced myself to remake a world... and I forced myself to put some of that knowledge into the Tantabus, as a reminder of how horrible I was and that... I think you know. I'm sorry, Sombra. I'm so, so sorry. I'm such a coward... and I was so selfish. I wasn't like you; I know it sounds odd, Sombra, but I admire how you're selfish."

Our shelter was graced with eerie silence and tears threatened to well up again. "Do you hate me, Sombra?"



No, Luna. I don't hate you for this. I'm not even a little bit angry. It hurt to hear that. All those years when I was trapped in the ice... this was happening with you. It wouldn't have been as bad if there weren't still scars. You're not a coward. I'm just... What card do we have to play now, Luna?



All around us, the world trembled, and I sucked in a shaking breath. "Sombra?" I croaked, "What was that? Do you think-"

I watched the red letters spell out his answer.



It's him. Well, Luna?



The red crystal begins to shake, and a few drops of blood that had been clinging to it fall to the ground. I hear the unmistakable grate of crystal upon crystal. This blood crystal - I know of no name for them - and the äerint would clash, and I do know that Sombra and I... our shield would only last so long. Umbra was like a machine, only too alive to break. I was frightened of that and knew that if he was whole, or got his hooves on us now that we've done this to him...

'Merciless' would, ironically, be a mercy of what we would expect from him, for he lacks all that even the lowest brutes still possess-

I nearly gasped and felt myself freeze, accidentally snapping Sombra shut for a moment as the clashing continued.

Possess.

Without fumbling, I flipped Sombra open to the last page he was responding on, where another array of scribbles had appeared, trailing off into a grumpy doddle of himself and something about demon racism and cruelty, but I focused on his latest message:



And the reason your revelation promoted such abuse?

 

Another grumpy doodle of himself appeared, along with a curious amount of sparkles near his flowing, disheveled mane. I couldn't help but make a sound like a snort at how absurd it was before blinking my teary eyes to clear them. He knows me too well.

"Nightmare Moon was incomplete, even by your standards, no?"



It was, yes. Care to explain a bit more? I'm all for suspense, but this whole ordeal is literally killing me.



"I still have the magical foundations for it... and Sombra, I am already sinking. My cutie mark and lower half..." I shake my head. I had to keep my voice strong.

Sombra's silence spoke volumes.

"We have even less time." Almost as if it agreed, the red crystal prison trembled with me in some kind of groaning, scraping plead. "My magic is blocked and there's no way to heal you... I do not think that even I would be able to do so myself."



 The point. Now.



He may not have spoken, but his tone was blunt, hostile, and cold, all the same. My heart had slunk back from my throat, at last.

"Possess me."



WHAT?! LUNA, NO! I'D NEVER WANT TO DO THAT TO YOU. DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT YOU'RE ASKING?!



"I do," I said softly, and yet my voice rose above the increased crashing sounds around us. My tone was as resolute as I stood. "I am quite literally asking you to complete me, or Nightmare Moon, who is myself in part."



I CAN'T HURT YOU! NOT LIKE THAT! DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH COULD GO WRONG? YOU'RE ASKING ME TO, IN PART, HELP YOU CREATE ANOTHER DEMON MADE UP OF BOTH OF US AND MORE. LUNA... Luna... If I hurt you... I don't see any way for me to ever forgive myself. This would be more than just going into your mind, it'd be so much more... I shouldn't have yelled at you... Luna, if I had a panic attack or did something I couldn't reverse-



"Sombra," I said soothingly, wishing that I could stroke his mane to comfort him, "I would not be asking this if I didn't trust you. I have faith that you wouldn't hurt somepony you love, and that's how I know that you could do this. It would be a 'gamble' - as you like to put it - on both of our parts. I am willing to do this if you are. Nightmare Moon was meant to have so much raw power, and there isn't anypony else I would ever allow to do something like this with me. I know that you can help me and that we will watch out for one another. I love you, Sombra, and if this means that I have a chance to pull myself from despair and could save the both of us, I will try. I saved you once, and I would like to do so again. You'll be able to draw my magic again to regenerate, won't you?" He couldn't see me, but I gifted him with a special smile and waited for his pages to be filled with letters again.

I heard the sound of crystal cracking and my smile vanished. 

"Sombra?" I pleaded, looking from him, to my changing coat, and the long crack that ran in the surface of the vivid red crystal.

Hesitantly, words began to appear.



...Just remember what I told you the first time, about not relaxing too much and not tensing up? That's all... I'll do this for us, but it's going to take a lot out of me. I've made gambles before but this is... Dammit, just remember that I love you.



I swallowed and nodded and laid my ears back as I watched the book in my forehooves turn into shadow.

Sell your soul, urges a half-voice the begs to be whole.



...



Pink Sunset swayed in the afternoon and mimicked the waves that trembled below before all was still. The heat of Celestia's sun was oppressive and beat down upon the deck on the airship where three equines stood.

Shining Armor drew a few tired, nervous breaths laced with slight irritation and the general feeling that what was happening now in the humid setting would have been less trying on the thinner strings of his patience if he had been keeping less awkward company. He gulped down the last of the ship's supply of lemonade.

"Do you think Sombra and Princess Luna will be holding up well?" He didn't add a title because he wasn't sure which one fit, but this stranger that literally overshadowed him was calm enough.

Noctus' brow furrowed. "We do not know. Perhaps your dear wife, the young demigod prophet would be able to offer some insight into the situation?"

"She's not a prophet," Shining Armor said, "she's high."

Noctus didn't know how to respond or what the meaning of 'high' was. Everything had been a long time ago. The here and now, with such a clunky and primitive excuse for transportation was like plunging headfirst into water.

"Where is she?"

Shining Armor tilted his head back and looked up at him, magenta magic still holding his glass. Moisture clung to it.

"Princess Luna's in that death trap of a place, with Sombra, sir. Is the air getting to you? Maybe you need to eat. When did you last have anything?"

"About three thousand years ago? Our head is a little light in feeling right now, making memories unclear."

"Gods, you need a proper sandwich more than ever, dontcha? I'll go make one and check on the ship. Who knows what Cady's been up to, smoking up such a fine airship. It didn't deserve this, y'know?" Shining Armor flashed the god his winning, friend-to-everypony smile.

Noctus gave an awkward curve of his mouth in response and found his cheek hurt. Otherwise, he was unmoved by the gesture and only returned anything for the sake of politeness. This unicorn was a strange one and was nearly as confused as he was by everything. He knew that the pony known as Shining Armor didn't mean any little offense or general awkwardness... he was a little too mortal in areas, but seemed good at heart. Noctus was even reminded of himself, a little. A younger version, of course. Younger and shorter - just like Shining Armor, he would've been the weakest of the party and the butt of many jokes, but he followed somepony.

A goddess with a curly mane sliced short that fell about her face and eyes touched by the darkness, slited pupils and night vision that was passed down to their daughter. She was of the light, Lumina. Lumina... the Lost.

Noctus swallowed as guilt weighed him to the deck and he bowed his head to escape the sun's bright shine while Shining Armor stalked away.

"Hey there, what's got ya frowning?" A feminine voice and the smell of something burning caught his attention, as did the faint 'pop' of a noisy teleportaion spell's aftermath.

He didn't reply as he calmly looked over the pink demigod. Her eyes were a bit bloodshot, her mane was curly and cut short, and her blue magic grasped something that Shining Armor had called a joint.

He know she liked to be called 'Cady' or 'Cadance' but Noctus only felt comfortable focusing on no name for her. She was the color pink to him... and somehow the current ruler of the Crystal Empire. The thought of a mortal ruling such a treasure was wrong. There was no other way to put it. Nothing like that should be. The Empire was one of the most sacred things... to have it so easily violated in such a way...

Her flank told a different story, one that made her seem like a living paradox. Marked as a perfect ruler for the Empire, yet a mortal.

Noctus sighed. "You think yourself the demon's niece, then?" It was a tame and obvious subject choice.

Cadance blinked slowly but said nothing.

Noctus looked at her curiously.

Cadance blinked again, but in a really profound way.

Noctus looked concerned, and awkwardly ventured: "Empress Mi Amore Cadenza?"

"...He doesn't like to be called a demon." She spoke as though the pause never happened.

"So it seems. How queer that is. It would be like Us not calling you a demigod when needed. Does he think himself another species? He called himself a book when around Us."

"I'd wanna be a vinyl. Infinitely vintage in the heart of hearts, yo."

Noctus cocked his head to the side and gave a small but friendly smile. "What language of the age is that?"

The pink mare stared at him with a loose and transcendent calm, blinking with something he took to be exhaustion. "If the world really ends, do ya think I should just roll it all? Before everything goes wrong? Like, I'm a really good archer. Everypony needs an archer at the end of the world, and there's this backup plan that's absolutely crazy but I'm gonna do it anyway, you know?"

She smiled, dazed and it was Noctus' turn to blink. His expression was sheepish for a brief flash - a ghost of how he was - like Shining Armor appeared to be. "Why do you not... tell Us about yourself?"

Another slow blink. "I introduced myself: Mi Amore Cadenza, Princess of Love, Bitches and Empress of the Crystal Empire. Niece of Princess Celestia of Equestria."

At the name of his eldest daughter, Noctus grew worried once more. What had became of his seemingly prosperous elder daughter? He had asked questions that yielded little: Unlike Luna, she did not have one she was involved as deeply with as Sombra was with his younger daughter. She ruled and she taught. She seemed smiling and professional. Celestia was porcelain. An idol.

He worried, but continued to speak to Cadance, smiling a little. "Why not tell Us more? Where is your home? What kind of demigod are you? Idle chat of that sort."

"Oooh..." Cadance nibbled a lock of her mane in thought, still clutching her 'joint' in her magic. "I was born a pegasus and adopted by two wonderful ponies. My mamma smokes a pipe and my father loves gardening."

"Oh, a pegacorn, then. May We interrupt?"

Cadance nodded. "Yeppers. What's on your mind?" She drew the last word out lazily.

"What species is the other demigod? Sombra mentioned that there were two, including yourself. Are they a terracorn? A winged unicorn? A pegacorn like yourself?"

"Err..." Cadance's eyes glazed over a little. "Twilight was a unicorn, and then poof!" She waved her forehooves clumsily for emphasis. "Two wings happened," she concluded sagely.

"A winged unicorn," Noctus supplied. "Common among demigods. A tragedy it is that you have only two, yet you seem very accomplished, even by the standards of the Old World."

As soon as he spoke the foreign term for something that was anything but that - home - he regretted it. Shadows spread across the deck and humidity clashed with a wave of cold. Noctus tilted his head toward the heavens that had been his, in a way, long ago and his eyes widened at something that he had never seen before.

The sky darkened, and Cadance, so obviously stoned, matched the gesture, blinking. The distant look in her eyes fell to confusion as she was bathed in dark, reddish light and a multitude of shadows.

"Well, shit."



...



A hemisphere away in Canterlot, Discord was shaking violently on the balcony of Celestia's private tower. He only wanted to take a breath of fresh air from the literal columns of leads and obscure magical hoax- rituals that Celestia had been surrounding herself with, desperate for anything that sounded even slightly possible to her in order to obtain information or anything about the presence of her sister and King Sombra.

She was a mess behind closed doors, but Discord being Discord did not mind a mess. In fact, he himself was a mess right now, spasming on the floor like he was gelatin in an earthquake, his serpentine body twisting and convulsing in ways that managed to even surprise him. 

He felt boneless, and he probably looked boneless if his current movements were any indication. Yet, he was paralyzed by them and could not find a way to speak or do anything but shake about until Celestia spilled out of the doors to her tower herself, rosy eyes clouded with panic in the dimming light, seeing past everything and beholding nothing. Dark circles of stress were imprinted under her eyes when the day's make up and beauty charms had worn off. She had simply stopped sleeping one day, and only Discord knew. Her mane floated with something like agitation and was mussed from a nap she had almost taken on a table within, but had forced herself to forgo.

"Discord?" she asked, quickly and hollowly, moving a forehoof tired and stiffly so she could brush away tears of exhaustion.

It was a sunny afternoon day, and shadows were creeping.

"Magical... imbalance..." the draconequus managed, giving the princess one thing less to worry about with one corny movement that was visible as darkness tore down the illusory veil of daytime: a thumbs up with his claw.

She took one shaking breath and her words stumbled out uneasily as her voice caught on itself and stumbled a bit - something she never let happen anywhere else and never in front of their subjects. Her mask was still intact, and that relieved her. She only needed to cover up the flaws, over and over again. "Dissy... that has happened since..." She paused, but her whole body was shaking and her wings were folded stiffly, but looked like they might droop to the ground at any moment. "Since shortly before Luna was sighted in Ponemünde and the incident with Rarity, Twilight, and the Celestial Divide..."

She trailed off, and sighed almost forcefully. Then, Celestia looked up the sky. She was bathed in the shadows and the reddish light that now dominated what had been her day.

The sight of a solar eclipse made Celestia's heart pound wildly, and painfully like no other. Pure terror spread across her face.

This was a sight she had seen only once before. It was a sight that the world had only seen once before.

Tears trickled down her cheeks, fighting to escape her eyes and then rolling down in thin rivulets, and smudging what was left of her make up.

The sky was torn apart. As her heart raced on, her mind struggling to think of anything but the shattered image of her sister and the mask she had forced upon herself.

She fell to her knees, face frozen and gasping for breaths she couldn't seem to take. Her breathing was only ragged and heaving gasps. 

She fell with a scream to tear the sky again, a single name on her lips before she fainted dead away:

"LUNA!"





...






Luna:



Flight is defying that one might fall when surrounded by everything - only it is farther above and below, and there's everywhere to go. There is no help, many places one might glide, and a long time to tarry. Things below you can shift and grow, but they do not change. Growing is movement and discovery. Enlightenment, if you wished to give it a grand term.

Change is twisting in ways that should not be twisted and foal's tales - change is nothing but an excuse, and misinterpretation for the weak of mind, like those who said that the world was flat because of how they walked upon it in the Tribal Era.

Being a god is much like flight. There is you, and there is eternity. You can meet everypony or none at all, but one must always have their bearings and know themselves. You may walk among the grounded and love them. They can be friends, family, and more - any kind of companion, ally or enemy - but they will never have what you have.

Gods are not without growth. We grow more than anypony. We are the longest stories, and often the ones that never end. We can be the greatest sagas or the greatest bore. We can be the most tragic, or the most merry. We are more ourselves than any, and not because of never-ending life - that is just the backdrop. An eternity can be worthless if what is done with it is equally so.

Gods are not meant to be lowered or forget that they are gods. A painter can still think themselves a painter and befriend a farmer. Telling a god that they are not a god and that they must behave as such is like telling a pegasus that he must have his wings cut off and the bones yanked from him so that he might fit in better. It is brutal, ignorant, and not to be.

I am a god, and I know that none of us were ever supposed to cater or lower ourselves in any way or forget what we are. We must go higher yet, because there's everything left for us and always more, no matter who we are and what our divinity manages. We are not meant to be humbled or be one-sided idols or easy to understand - ponies aren't always easy to understand. We aren't meant to succumb to purposes and notions of duty.

This does not mean that tyranny is all that awaits us.

Right now, I do not know what awaits me, but I am not alone.

All around me is the most amazing sight. I have seen what supernova and nebulae, but this was neither. I can say that it was magic, but not a magic I knew. I knew dreams, the heart's leakings into the mind, but this was no dream.

It was, however, one of the most infinitely beautiful and fantastic things I think that I will ever behold.

There is no fog or haze. Darkness is absent here, and any light is blurred and remade into something that might technically be and feel pure but was too wild for such a description.

This was.

It had an unshakable air of stubbornness to it, this place that was no place. It was, and I was merely here. If this was the root, trunk, and flesh of a great tree I felt like a leaf on on of its branches, at best. There was no ground and sky. I did not float, but I was not quite walking. My hooves touched nothing that they would be used to standing upon, but there was certainly something and a lot of it. Beautiful blues, reds, greens - not pastels of false shades of gold best reserved for a gilded idol - were about, like a sparkling opaque fog - though fog wasn't the best definition. It was a cloud of some kind, maybe? A whole swarm of them.

There were not dotted with stars, but they shown brightly. Crimson and grays spilled across the entirety of this. Cold and heat were barren here, but there was the pressure of presence that felt so familiar. This magic - yes, it was most certainly magic - shifted and writhed. It drifted and moved and shaped itself, a discernible pattern among them, yet a complex one I knew nothing of and was able to maintain a thousand variations. Yes, cold may not be here, but I shivered with excitement at how uncanny this place was. And then I saw how much like fire and sky this was: it was no dance, and there was no elegance, but parts of all this would dart like flame. Rings and lines of crimson script that was a familiar sort of eldritch - any better word eluded me - script that went along like notes on music sheets, only far more fluid.

And then it struck me what this feeling might be: this was some kind of being.

How did I know this? I felt, and I looked, and lo, and behold!

Among the cloud and stuff - ah, how blasphemous a word to this strange and funny being - finer than any haze and yet transcended any fire was something undeniably beautiful.

Raking through all this everything - personality, one might term this spunky, extraphysical flame - were heavenly little slices in this inferno.

Traced in ghosts of their real shades were passages from books, scrambling themselves in ways I was baffled by and images of landscapes: tundras, flashes of buildings, the ocean, and the stars - oh, there were so many of the night looming above some stretch of the world. Chiefly was Canterhorn Mountain. Each undid themselves and would often appear elsewhere if I waited.

There were also ponies there: glimpses of terrified crystal ponies that faded like ghosts, the outline of buffalo exchanging legends in the desert, Cadance reclining in a train car at dusk with a book in her forehooves, and Twilight Sparkle walking in a dark tunnel.

I saw myself in all the little moments I would have guessed no one was looking. I always caught his eye, even in the moments between blinks or when I thought he would have been looking away just enough so not so see me frown...

Neptune stood among them, as brief as the sight of a periwinkle wizard impaled on smokey crystal.

There was an adorably fluffy and feral looking colt with crimson eyes - one wrapped in rags - admiring his reflection. I caught the sight of a young demon king who, in his lucid madness, thought that snipping apart one of his bodies would set himself free - into this. I beheld slight flashes of everything I forgave him for.

"Hello, Sombra," I whispered, knowing I was certainly nowhere, but within and viewing another of his forms - one that he could surely coalesce into outside of all these in betweens.

Sombra trembled with something like pride, but distantly, in a faint acknowledgement to me. I was touched.

"Selene? That can't be you!"

That was not Sombra, and when I turned around, my face touched with shock I was careful not to let him see.

Onyx was almost exactly as I remembered him. Confusion was on his face, and there was the hint of a cruel smile on his muzzle that had been lost to the former, as though he had paused and realized he had forgotten it there. He was a little taller. I last saw him when he was eleven, and here before me he was thirteen... and a little over a thousand and one hundred years more.

His brown eyes were that of a monster, and the smile he settled on was no longer sloppy and dopey, but sadistic. The way that eyes of this child roamed over me made me shudder and suddenly feel so filthy.

"It really is you, huh? Well, how'd you get stuck? Only I'm supposed to be 'ere. I'm not even physical." To prove this, he stuck his hoof in his chest, and it simply passed through. The sight caused him to giggle for the sole purpose of making noise. "I don't think you are either, witch. You here to beat me again? Guess Starswirl taught you well."

I scowled fiercely at him, but he paid it no mind, and strolled about lightly on his thin legs. "Oh, oh! And lemme guess... you and Solara-" He flicked the 'r' in Starswirl's name for her unnecessarily. "-you're still at her heels, aren't you? Maybe in more ways than one, huh?"

I think I was going to be sick at the perverse implications he was stuffing within the last part.

"Look at you, just like she was when she had the nerve to try and defeat me. What's a bloodbath to her? She's a politician, they're, like, supposed to love those. And why does one tyrant care what the other does?"

"My sister is no tyrant, you brat!" I stomped my hoof angrily, and was glad that there was nothing for my divine strength to damage here. "You are no tyrant - merely a murderer playing dress-up, like the child you are! And you may stop leering at me like that," I hissed, drawing myself up into the full extent of what I appeared as on my first Nightmare Night in Ponyville: a more obviously angered goddess, and at one who I would not withhold wrath from.

He almost gulped and his eyes grew wary with remembrance. "Y'know, none of that tells me why you're here. Is it his magic that you want?"

"No," I said firmly, looking at him with a careful glance. He was separate to Sombra, and so was I. If I was to be possessed by Sombra, how could such an impurity like Onyx be tolerated?

I noted that he had an almost ghostly look about him here - while not see-through, he was certainly not solid.

And he was not Sombra.

For once, I didn't care what Sombra said. I was at such a place beyond everything I had known, and surrendered myself to Sombra - it was like the gravity of this form of his was tugging me closer, and to get closer, I must bypass Onyx.

Onyx was simply in my way, and I would do something about it, something that Sombra would never expect, but here and now...

I would separate them.

I look at Onyx, curiously, but with nothing betrayed. He would not know what I would do until he was at the gates of Tartarus itself! "What were those years like, with Sombra?"

Onyx smiled, but with a delight that brought knots to my stomach. "They were the best years of my life... well, not the one in the snow. That was lots of waiting. But when I was a king? Well, I was a king. Nopony knew me as anything else, I got to be a murderer and hurt anypony. Do I really need to spell it out for you, stupid? Those years were the best because I sank and rose-"

"You fell. You've done nothing else but fall further into the dirt, and even below."

He made an annoyed sound in the back of his throat best attributed to moody, shallow youth. "I rose and could be what I wanted to be."

"You lived a lie."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever 'Lene. Lies or not, who cares? They're, like, the same thing. For those years, I didn't ever need to think about anything that I wasn't good at, and I had power." His eyes flashed with the traces of dark magic behind them. "And I had a bloodbath anytime I wanted. Ponies could be beaten, cut, maimed, screaming - anything all throughout the days and nights. I didn't just have to plunge knives into birds anymore, I could do. It was a huge mess!" He smiled and giggled while I listened. "It was such a huge, huge mess! Massacre after massacre, what could I ask for? Eight years of nothing but horror and tears and just me... being better. I didn't hurt and nopony hurt me. I got to be so cruel - I didn't care a bit about it, you know? I just wanna throw myself into that, again and again, no matter what it takes to get there."

"You wished to kill yourself."

"What?" His eyes flashed with confusion and met mine once, but they did not see me. "No, were you even listening? I guess I didn't wanna be myself? Or, like, a pony? I just wanted to do all that, to feel that forever."

"It is the same thing as killing yourself, Onyx." His name was given no familiarity when I spoke it.

He sighed and began anew, clear that he was not listening to me. "It's so stupid, how ponies just think that it's wrong to do certain things. Like, if you kill a pony because you think that ripping everything out of them as slowly as possible because impulse struck you right then and there is bad. And there's all these other limits that are supposed to exist. Getting rid of children? Hey, the Tribes did that all the time, and yet even they'd hate the stuff I'd do, like what? No, no, I just had to do that."

"You killed children?" I whispered in horror, my mind drifting to the nameless youth of the Empire who I wished I could have protected and to Sombra... and what role he might have played in all this, a role I have forgiven him for.

"Uh-huh," Onyx said. "They were like squealing, crying little fish in a barrel. I just had to. It was like stepping on ants. I made Sombra do it a lot too... oh my, he just hated that. I'd try to get him to start being sloppy about them, just leave nothing but all this ghastly stuff everywhere... but he wouldn't, not unless I forced him. I'd punish him for all those things. He was supposed to obey me. If I told him to hack a limb off, yeah, he'd do that and that was nice. He'd crush 'em too, but I wanted messier, I had to have more. If your stupid sister had left me that big ol' barrel of the Empire, I would've done far worse than just killing and torturing all of 'em."

His smile was monstrous and toothy - a pumpkin's grin, because it looked as though it had been cut forcibly onto his face as he giggled a little, and almost girlishly. "Sombra was so against anything I did after a while. He was always challenging me or asking for reasons when all I wanted is to get to that place beyond instinct where there's no thinking and it doesn't even feel like you're you or anything - I just want that. Forever. And ponies should be hurt because I want to so badly, and I don't want to stop for anything else. Food, maybe? Stuff like that? Dunno."

I couldn't stay aloof forever, and was shocked, not by his words but all the things he doesn't know that he means... and that I knew what was in front of me was a reduced shade of what Sombra had to live with. Dark magic loves its puppets because they are all willing and no puppet at all.

Onyx looks around, but not at me. He is distracted and bored as all daft children are, fidgeting and glazed eyed with their white noise voices that speak, but tell nothing. "Sombra was against a lot. He'd kill ponies willingly but called me out for what I did? He was a hypocrite and a liar. He knew all these things... parts of me I'd never say, things I wanted to do... and he'd rebel." Onyx scowled at a memory he thought bothersome and I caught the glimpse of the lie - a cruel tyrant king's, no, and abuser's visage. 

Truly, one might say that there were three: Sombra, Onyx, and the King. The last was a ghost of the second with abilities stolen from the first and sick fantasies that should have never flourished.

"Sombra was always rebellious," Onyx says, more to himself than any other. He thinks that Sombra's name is some dreaded thing. An inconvenience or a curse. That alone is a testament to just how wrong he is - something only dear Sombra would know in full. "I wanted that book to make me famous, and for everything not to hurt, and most of all, so everypony else could... I wanted. I just wanted a lot, y'know? Sombra wanted to take it all away. From the start of it all he was messing everything up and saying all the wrong things-"

"Just what is Sombra to you?" I asked, gazing down at the tiny form in my long shadow with no concern or empathy, but not the scolding that my sister would have. This was stronger, because I showed it in a softer way. It was not scolding - this was not somepony who needed to be scolded. This was somepony that needed to be stung with something powerful: the subtle, harsh weight of burning truth.

I saw Onyx truly smile, and I find that only the carnage of war might compare to how obviously vile he is, and all behind shining brown eyes that are now put on display.

"Sombra was... fun. To hurt, that is. He has these freak outs - panicky ones - that started when we were in the Crystal Empire. I loved forcing them upon him, finding them and making them worse. He'd resist mind control more than anypony else - and it hurt way more than just giving in and letting me tear everything apart. He was so easy to use, to..." His eyes glow with glee. "-desecrate," Onyx whispered forcefully in a reverent way that made me shudder.

"I loved hurting him more than anypony. He's... he's so addicting. Every bit of him needs to be hurt, he's the one I need to see break. I couldn't kill him, so I was forced to find other ways..." Onyx sighed, smiling wider. "When he panicked he was so low and vulnerable. He never trusted anypony, and now he never will. I'd really get him screaming. Just controlling him - he's the perfect weapon... except for when he isn't." There was that darker look again, but it was fleeting. "He was like a pet, sometimes. I could kick him any time I wanted... Oh, I loved that. I didn't even need a reason! I just had to try ruin him and I could be at the top of everything - I was at the top of everything."

He paused and truly looked at me, in part. "It almost melted when I was with him."

Swallowing, and pulling myself from a mind swarming with thoughts and a heart filled with fear for what Sombra went to when it was those two alone, and all between their twisted encounters. If demon is a definition, a monster's archetype, then Onyx is the demon... but Sombra... he's too good to be a pony... and there's parts of Onyx that are far too 'pony' to make him a demon. I let myself focus on Sombra around me in his current form. If this is what a demon really is, all personal differences and suffering between them aside, these transcendent equines capable of so much, then I think them rather beautiful. Even if their beauty can be a cruel one.

"What almost melted?" My voice was soft, but never without strength and a dangerous curiosity.

"Limit-y stuff," Onyx said firmly, as if that explained any and all to me. "Stupid words and actions... all of, ugh!" He stomped a hoof in frustration. "ALL OF THIS!" He jabbed a hoof at what he felt encompassed his frustrations: himself, and roughly.

Awkwardness marked his tone next, and a cool air of calculating aloofness settled over me once more. "You have not given me an answer that is suitable. All you have done is proven that you have done nothing short of sell your soul."

"All this. Clumsy stuff. Dumb stuff. It doesn't matter when I hurt ponies. It's like how imps drink puddles when ponies aren't looking. Or maybe sunlight? It doesn't matter. Hurting ponies does because I want to and everything goes away."

"Consequences do not."

"Ugh!" Onyx groans like any typical whiny pony about his age. "You sound like Sombra! He kept talking like consequences even existed for him - like there was something more than me torturing him! There wasn't! He was stupid enough to believe that his actions had them, no matter what happened. Sombra was a fool like that - he'd waste time looking for ways around them or how to deal with them because he's an idiot and was meant to obey me and be used by me!"

I cringe when Onyx's voice cracks on 'used'.

"I'm not a foal any more! I don't have consequences! Starswirl's dead, they aren't there! Ponies like him and Starswirl are the worst! They never know what they're talking about and he thinks he's so much better when he's worse than the dirt on the ground! He's worse! Sombra's the worst! He's this entitled piece of shit that should suffer because he's not even supposed to be here! He's not real and he acts like he can do all these amazing things when he's just an infestation that should have drank himself to nothing a long time ago, a-and..."

Onyx was seething with the anger of a pony half his age, threw his head to the sky and screamed. His scream was shrill and painful and was more suiting to any infantile filly than anypony his age.

I clenched my jaw and begged for the shrill wail that was worse than any siren's song or dragon's call that I knew to stop.

Sighing roughly, I knew I had to take matters into my own hooves and lit my horn. A second sigh - one of relief - escaped my lips. My magic would still work. I did what must done with conflicts like these and the rotten individuals who slaughter hundreds as Onyx has.

I walked up to him with an unreadable but somber expression.

I looked upon his mane and grasped a lock in my magic, and before Onyx knew what was happening, I tugged upon it sharply.

He shrieked and, as I anticipated, made a move to attack me. In doing so, as a clumsy child, all he managed to do was pry my necklace from me - and I let him. This child may take the Tantabus if he pleases, it isn't as though he will be able to do any real with harm with it.

Once he stumbles away, necklace in hoof, fear is in his brown eyes. "W-What are you doing?"

"Removing you from a being that has risen above you and all that you put him through."

Onyx's eyes widen with genuine terror. "What?!" he spits. "H-How?!"

My horn flares brighter and a smile a little. "You shall see."

"Why would you do this? Sombra doesn't mean anything to anypony but himself! Sombra is a monster and a weapon! He's that selfish."

"Well, I suppose that I am very selfish too." I take a few careful steps to him as he backs away, in a pointless retreat to nowhere.

"Great!" Onyx spits out each syllable with a frantic, desperate acidity. "Then you two would be perfect for each other!"

I give him the ghost of a teasing smile before readying myself and subtly shifting so that I'm ready to pounce, so to speak. "Your blessing is most appreciated!"
> Chapter 50: Nova Burst
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Nightmare Moon:


There was the shattering sound of crystal that left my ears pounding reminded me of the cold vacuum of the moon: a sensation much of me was familiar with but unable to currently place. Following it was the stinging tear from within of regret, dissolving as violently as it bloomed in my chest; I heard myself gasp. Cold still drifted by my smooth coat and air whooshed around me with the splintering of crystal. I tried to pull each sense and memory, or any recollection and sense of grounding identity to pull me from the darkness unfolding.

I felt the moon and could not pinpoint why. I felt the powerful traces of regret, anger, envy, and something deeper than any sadness that begged to be ended at all costs, like a glue-covered hole in the mind that also pleaded to be jumped into-

And then, from everything disguised as nothing, I felt the outline of my body form and the two great sensations of before, one that felt familiar with all I have stated and slipped into a haze for a moment.

The world around me almost sang itself into being. The billions of prickles of magic ran along my coat and all the invisible sensations that outlined the world that another part of me knew I was the center of all burst into being. Outlines of the gaping crystalline wound of a sanctum were clear in my mind. I only needed to open my eyes to see them.

I felt that it had been a while. That gnawing sense of regret and strife - the moon's cold surface with it - came with a mixed sense of both distance from an experience that felt like a lucid dream and vividness. My body knew that it experienced that before. Somehow. Had there been a before? Both parts of me, swirling halves that blended together and were like two little nagging drives that held a slightly different feeling about them, felt so strongly that there was... yet, that time with the moon kept coming to mind. I could not help but recall a sense of being incomplete that came with it.

Now, I felt so much different. But, did I look different too? I did not feel the weight of a helm on my head or like I towered above the vague impressions I had of distant, meaningless mortals. They were likely just figments of whatever feat completed me, visions of color simply given shape. Even if they were real, they were insignificant - each and every single one of them.

I wanted to open my eyes. I wanted to find the decaying presence rooted so deeply within what should be nothing but a corpse among all this magic and unmake them, as both parts of me burned to. I felt so much fire growing. I was not to be something that raged within, with my fangs. I ran my tongue over them and knew that they were there, bared to the world with only rage and hollow glee plastered to my face. I am not as cold, not as regal as that. 

Part of me knows triumph, temper, an immovable sense of stubbornness, selfishness, and a dangerous mind. 

Another part of me knows something like vengeance that has been shaped into a currently cold fury that will get me between each outburst. But that part of me is mirthful where the other is twisted, and I think I shall let those mix. I feel some old ache and longing cease as my thoughts turn to twisted mirth. I have an inclination to it, maybe? This part knows a wild grace, a stability that I could wreck in the most curious of ways. This one is the great heart.

I have a great heart, a dangerous mind, and a longing to open my eyes as this second comes to pass.

And yet, I wonder why the name Nightmare Moon is rooted in me. It rings hollow and no longer fits, so I do what must be done and let it go.




...




I growled slightly and whizzed past crystal shards. Sleek, curved wings the color of charcoal cut through the air silently and quickly. Part of me wasn't used to flying, but another part of me knew every little thing about flight that the other seemed to lack, and I felt for that one more, letting the knowledge that felt so soft in my mind next to burning desire for revenge take control.

The red distorted some of my coloring, but not enough that I was unable to admire myself. There was my charcoal coat, my fangs, and blue-purple eyes that only felt half-right, black pupils peering back at me before that particular shard fell and I only was able to see my unruly, dusky mane of purple flowing behind me. It was longer than any stallion's but just barely overgrown for a mare's, and did not sparkle enough to my liking, which was something part of me longed for. A mane that sparkled profusely when tossed was something to brag about.

I light my horn with an aura that starts out iridescent before darkening into a deep, glittering royal purple, and I can't help but feel the slightest bit irritated by this. Why so much purple? Why not green? Part of me really wants to know.

I'm only relieved that my horn is free from the äerint that had bound in when I felt myself awakening. It was now the proper shape of any demon's horn and unable to have such vile stuff like äerint dug into it. I reach up a forehoof to tap the curved part. I may be able to use the same magic, but dark magic would not be winning this battle. I had far more worthwhile spectacles.

The power of two gods thrummed within me, and I dodged the last of the shattered blood magic.

I quickly darted past anything else that I sensed, and must've blended in well with the gloom of this place as I soared.

Nearly everything about me was a deep, dark gray - a slightly fluffy coat and long legs blended in well. I did have a feeling that I used to be taller, but did not know why. My mane and tail did not stand out either. There was the gleam of dark blue in my some of my feathers, but not enough to mark me as an easy target.

I settled atop a protruding ledge of äerint like a gargoyle and flared my wings so that they framed me, growling as the dust of battle settled. In the reflection of a nearby äerint cluster, I caught my reflection as I scanned the floor below. My jaw was clenched in the grim expression of any sentry above it all, as I was. I sat unmoving and solid, moving into battle would take no time at all. My irises looked more reddish-purple than blue-purple than I recalled, but I let it be.

The vast explosion of magic that had created me and seeped from this pocket world left quite a mess. Smokey aura of red, black, turquoise, and other colors still clung below like mist pouring into a valley. I don't know how the outside world was to be affected by this, but I anticipated that a battle was to begin. Here was a scenario that marked inevitable violence - but I wasn't complaining one bit. Instead, I felt every bit of me long for this, with magic greater than whatever created me - and more dangerous than either because of how much rested within me. I was a harbinger combined with all that followed, and a complete one. I radiated more than just smug cruelty that my creeping fangy smile showed.

There was a gnawing for revenge where the longing for darkness eternal had slipped away to the fog of memory. This Umbra and I were both creatures of magic, but I'm sure that I was something more, and my certainty was nearly a confirmation in itself. He was simply power, and to end him, I would overwhelm him.

I caught another glimpse of my mad, wild grin and the purple of my eyes under an unruly mane as patience started ebbing and anticipation grew.

As everything below cleared, I had plain view of what waited before me. It was Umbra. Or, what was left of him. The äerint on his wings neither looked or felt whole - he was using what was left to make a last stand.

All the effort of those before me - those that I embodied, in part - had taken a toll. He was no longer a feared destroyer - at least, not to me and what I could do. Every brutal action against him - the burns of lightning, the cuts of blades, and everything else - had been more than enough from the only two who could have managed this, the journey included. Yes, he was still dangerous, but immensely less so. The world could not fall to him unless he were to escape and begin anew with the corruption brought from his artifacts that scattered in the Collapse... and even before that, I imagine.

He stood as a creature mauled beyond all recognition, headless and bearing little equine form beyond having hooves. The once white coat that he had was no longer whole, but had been torn away completely be numerous meetings with the blades of a goddess and the work of a god. Even his tail, darker than pitch black, was dripping with a foul slurry from his wounds and was just a dark, unrecognizable mass that rippled quietly as he stood tall.

Tall, but broken. I ran my tongue over my fangs and looked down upon him more than just literally. If his head was still intact and he sensed me in any other way than what that rotten soul sewn into this living corpse could manage, he would have been looking at me with a smothered attempt at fury, I would think. I hoped he could sense my cheeky grin growing wider, cruel fangs gleaming in the dark while my eyes glinted wickedly and I drew out the unbearable silence between myself and this silent foe.

What was once a full leg stomped down, pawing the ground in a mechanical motion. I caught the sight of exposed bone - not that there wasn't plenty elsewhere - and rose, a calculating look of unstoppable determination in my eyes.

I know how he did it. Umbra had sewed himself to that disgusting vessel. Any other immortal's form would have not lasted by now - at least not without some miraculous and stalling magical aid that wasn't here - and their soul would depart until they could gather power, a body, and themselves altogether once again.

He rotted in there, in that sick shell that should not move any longer.

I'd see to that. My horn glowed ominously, the iridescent glitter once again cluttering the sight of my deep purple aura as I leapt into battle and swooped below, grinning madly as I picked up speed. My booming cackle echoed off the irregular walls, with haunting results that sent chills of excitement down my spine. Wanting fueled my magic, and concentration too. But, they were not alone in building up the power that gathered on my horn, and what a power it was! It was not dark magic, never something I couldn't use, but everything else. It grew with my swift descent. I was a predator above all, and that meant I preyed on him.

Color swarmed on my horn, collecting more and more as I drew deeper from vast reserves. There was so much I was capable of, and this was more than just a fire. I would shape this power, and use it all. Every bit would be venomous. It would have the framing and genius that any sorcerer would feel nothing but the greatest want for. 

Here, the dangerous mind would have free reign over all the power that he could hope to access. He had been given all the paper in the world and all the ink into record everything he ever wanted. His skill would not go unnoticed in the slightest. It was he, who told the great heart as they - I - surveyed their battle-to-be before leaping, and here I was now. It was he who knew that when the souls of all gods here deteriorated were just a twisted fuel for the crystalline chunk that floated in this abyss, and it was Umbra who used this fuel - it flowed in the äerint he bound himself with.

I thought this soul-eater to be the lowest of all I have seen and that they have known - and they were me. If he was the lowest, I was without a doubt the highest: a destroyer or savior, if needed. To save all, I would destroy him just as I once thought that destroying all would save something - the great heart's the source of those dead notions. She - my great heart - knew that magic was potent when desire went into it. This was often, but not always. Though, for her it had always been. The thought of lunar isolation crept through me once again, and vanished in the storm to come.

She was pulling things into view, her and the mind were linked and what grew on my horn, shining about the walls with apocalyptic fury. There were the centuries of longing for answers in a world born from ashes - it was a silent longing, and that's what gave it all power.

The ashes of that world were from his fires.

The knowledge and art of all that had mattered lived in a fraction, archived away in a dangerous mind that knew better to share them. With the loss of all the knowledge of an old world, was the death of more. He knew this, and she saw it with him, but they felt it together.

And that was all his fault.

Then there was the shared anger and disgust at the sickening things that ponies had become.

Ponies with few individuals, my mind would add. It would not be incorrect to think this, merely dangerous, but the truth often was. That they both knew.

That, for the most part, had been the fault of the ponies - but one that did have a catalyst, and lo, and behold - HE STOOD HERE!

The eradication cultures, extinction of species and land, cities as lost mass graves, and the diaspora of a continents' creatures was not forgotten by those who knew better.

It was none other than he who had caused that.

But there were darker things still.

A temper that transcended time, circumstance, and imprisonment that was a double edged sword. There was more to be gained from this anger - I knew the memories and felt it prickling, fueling, and ready to be used - but that does not mean that there was no time where it was not the fault of something. The owner knew that, and there were extents of it that he had no pride in.

And that was barely the beginning.

My chest ached with the recollections of different plights, only made distant because of the rush my charge was giving me.

Eight years of torture, violation, falling, and fighting all the while. Running from countless ghosts and visions only to end up in another corner of that crystal palace cage. Screaming in the dark at everypony. At nothing. At myself, who mattered most of all.

Stumbling through hallway after hallway on nights where the contents of the castle cellars burned in my mind that they had to be had, no matter the results.

Sinking further while all the world that sprawled outside stood still.

Seeing anypony but myself in a reflection and having the knowledge that only those eyes were mine boring into me and holding every new challenge. They burned angrier every day the world got dimmer, knowing that only I mattered and held anger that grew when tears subsided. 

There was the feel of holding a book in my forehooves, but it was shaking, and all because I was slumped in a cold corner and crying too much to be able to read.

I knew what it was like to be weighed down on the floor with a whole array of things. Magical exhaustion. Emptiness around me that wanted me to be empty too. Just another hangover. Something like regret. Thoughts that never went away and thoughts that wouldn't go away even if I wanted them to. Plans that I traced with my eyes into every looming ceiling of the corrupted crystal bell jar that I was trapped under. Stress. Exhaustion that I refused to succumb to; it didn't matter, eight years with forced wakefulness did have the occasional instance...

...where I just sprawled heavily upon the ground...

...and sorted through the paranoid weight of my thoughts, knowing - at least then.


.it.never.ends.it.never.ends.it.never.ends.it.never.ends.it.never.ends.it.never.ends.


With that lacing through my eyes, I'd pull myself because there was every reason not to and keep on fighting for the only reason that mattered: me.

I'd pile books of philosophy, legends, mathematics, magic, and the world unseen around me.

Everything would be confronted. That, I had no choice in.

And I'd keep going because there was no reason to.

There never was.

Eight years of everything crashing down on me at once, and eleven centuries with only her to be the start of something better. But before that, there were eight years and every scar that they'd bring.

Of shaking with wide eyed terror. Of freezing. Of be forced to stay while somepony slithered about in my mind and I just huddled on the floor with a cape that was just weighted red death shroud and all the wrong sounds of him whispering all the right things to make me miserable... and him laughing when that too-vivid imagination and the next bout of everything crashed in and...

and...

Grit teeth. Scream. Stare into it all. Think about everything. Be scared.

Be very scared.

Drink later; it'll burn my throat. Who cares?

Force myself to care... at times.

Care genuinely deep down.

Stay. Live.

Shake.

Endure.

Fight back.

When my voice returns just-

-defy. Speak out. Say something.

Laying on the floor with regalia hobbles and that shroud, say anything. Breathe in shakes and gasps. Taste the tear of where my cheek ran with blood the time before the last time. Stare forever, just be sure to see.

And know, with your dangerous mind that you have never, ever seen enough.

There'll be ponies for every tomorrow until who knows when, at least in those eight years. I'd just stand up and continue. Those ponies wouldn't ever make it. He'd want everything so messy. And at that point in those eight years where I fought because I fought and after I laid in the ashes of that library and I was more than old enough to drink myself mad even though I already had a head start, I'd fight something a little differently.

I was too angry for everything and it'd never stay in any longer. I directed it, I didn't control it. But it didn't control me, and that's the only thing like relief I had. So I wouldn't resist killing ponies anymore. Not unless they weren't grown.

I'd still spite him in every other way I could. That would never stop. I would never stop. I could never stop. As soon as I locked eyes with whatever face would be slipping into memory, and that first hit was in...

...and I couldn't help but see them as an extension of the plague and herd mentality that infected all of them. I knew what they did, and Onyx wasn't as unlike every one of them as he thought...

...They knew things too, and about what they had done and it'd be so much better to end it; I'd only grow guiltier. I was already guilty enough.

I didn't stop. I'd end them. Magic or blade. It'd be angry and impersonal, but compared to the deaths Onyx liked; merciful.

I didn't stop. I knew why he did what he did to Starswirl's body then. Only, Onyx wanted to do that forever. I didn't want to do that forever. I still wanted to live, but just barely. I didn't stop that. I didn't stop being angry. I stopped thinking that I was ever going to get out of there, and had every reason to do so, and living went with that. But I still lived.

The last three years had all of that. I just lost it. Part of me I'd never justify or deny the existence of got to show in full. I told myself - I was me, no matter how others might lie about the experiences - something one day, and let it all spill over. It wasn't simple. It was:

Don't stop.

And I didn't.

All that and more was born from eight years, but my heart was equally heavy with the misery that came with a life of over three thousand years and the despair that had, and were still being coped with, bit by bit.

They resonated within, and the Heart of this place that was not much of anywhere at all roared with dark shades of sinister purple that bathed over the gray gloom, and all colors iridescent glittered within.

The heart did not struggle to recall what it was like.

To step into the land of the Tribes was to have my world taken from me and thrust into a grave that nopony did anything but contribute to. The land was dying, the ponies were too. Cultures were a trap of toxic customs and a decaying mess of what had been right and just in the world I knew so long ago. I wanted to leave as soon as my sister followed me in getting her mark, because that is when I knew that we wouldn't be able to, and I was right. Celestia and I were forced across the land until we were in the poisoned heart of the unicorns' territory, and became the wards of Starswirl.

It wasn't about that. It was about what happened after.

All the nights spent beating at cobblestone bricks in a tower I wanted to escape. Those were nights when clouds and spirals of smoke drifted upward and blotted out stars that shouldn't have felt so far away.

This was about the ache in my chest that never went away in all those years, no matter what I did and cut even deeper the few times I laughed - and I laughed when I could, alone, as I should. It didn't sound the same. My laughter had cracked, and there were times when I would choke on it in the same way I would choke on tears. Or choke them back.

I felt like that the rot of the world would chase me no matter how deep I ran within myself, and in all the later years there was the air of knowing that I no longer considered myself salvageable... at least, not once I knew, and steered myself in the years after Discord's defeat to something other then resignation and dwelling in the last sanctuary: shadows.

The founding of Equestria did little to better ponykind. It only improved their situations. A mare with ten foals would no longer have to lose half of somepony as precious as her own children before they were all half-grown. If only they had appreciated it. The tribes were united against everything that never sought to harm them and merely began to fester in their prosperity, while I broke apart piece by piece. They did not know how I observed them from my parallel place. I knew them. I walked among them and acted as the dutiful shadow of my sister, for in those years she wasn't herself as she is now.

It was all just a backdrop to what went on inside, and as years passed I had no choice but to focus on everything, everypony, and all that I could ever see, think, feel, touch, taste, and know in excruciatingly painful, utterly ignorable detail down to the slightest twitch. My senses ached. I couldn't speak or find away to pluck the rich and frenzied descriptions that racked me from within and turn them into anything but occasional stutters in front of a mirror.

I could say nothing that mattered. Yes, sister. No, sister. She was only Celestia to me then, Princess Celestia. Here, Princess. There, Princess. Your Majesty. Nothing right came out.

That had been agonizing. There was no other pony, or any other at all that would be safe to confide in, who was trustworthy, or who could understand even a bit of what I went through. I had myself, and I hated that. No, I hated me.

Every day was like banging on the door of a cell until I ached to my very core in any attempt to break what I wished was a spell. How long did it take to know I was kicking against a wall? It matters not. I did not pity myself as I broke because I didn't want to be myself any more. I wanted to at least mask my pain.

I huddled in whatever uncluttered places still exist within me and wilted. I found things in the dark there that was both painfully beautiful, far away and too close at the same time, and that terrified me, because they were all me and they lurked within my own mind. The rest of me envied everypony. My sister was respected, feared, believed, and worshiped as well as loved. My craft was ignored, what little work I did was scorned, and I was mocked. My sister had a whole budding kingdom to love her as a sign of piece, lovers who fawned over her, and was the nation's brightest star.

And one day, all within the most innermost part of me had something to say that went against everything I ever knew about myself:

Stop hoping.

I did, and found myself freezing in the sky.

My hooves touched the ground, energy both magical and physical running through me and the colossal growth of magical aura was not just fueled. It broke its swarming sphere shape, and exhilaration rose in me as it bled throughout Niflhel's Heart, which only made it feel more like an explosion of power everywhere. My coat always felt like it was prickling with the magical sensations that swarmed the air and disorienting Umbra, whose rigid posture swayed against what control of his body he had left.

When skidding to a stop in this dark kaleidoscope, I allowed myself to draw in a few quick breaths and give my surroundings a larger focus. Sweat formed under my long forelock and on my coat as I strained to keep control.
I was not power, I was made of it. If I lost all control, both parts of me would suffer, and the world with them.

Instead of shuddering, I stared straight at every grisly inch of Umbra that was lost in the the purple glow. My stare did not waver, no matter how much the distance between us shrank as I skidded. So much had been put into this and four thousand years of revenge have finally been pushed to this - the avenging of anything, everything, and everypony lost - brutal catharsis. No more chances would be happening if this failed and I was lost in the same way my enemy was.

With any focus gone - any doubt at all - I would be split apart, and risk catastrophic injury to all of myself.

My own senses are already lost in the magic that swarms around me. The thick, intense glow is getting more difficult to control, and the effort to concentrate everything into this means that one unfocused move, and all is done. The wild pounding of my heart is about all I can sense, and Umbra's outline and the shadows that jump about every surface of the walls are all I can see. Because of this, I feel nothing short of complete vulnerability, though I would not ever say so to another soul. Without being able to sense magic, to hear, and to feel above this sensory overload, what am I to do?

Unable to bear the strain of the magic that drowned all other senses and drenched this place in violet light, I finally let it go and the grinding illusion of time slowing down stopped. The aura that had been coating me clung no longer and rushed to the weight of the rough sphere of magic that was tearing apart any of the äerint edges that in came in contact with. The ground rumbled and swayed underhoof.

Seeing through the magic was difficult and the slightest bit of tears formed in the corner of my eyes at witnessing so much color and knowing this was the end.

He could not escape a storm from the inside out, and not when each and every escape dissolved under the might of my magic that spread like fire, but burned nothing like it.

Niflhel abruptly tilted to the side and back again. I did not need my tear-stung eyes to steady myself. The roar and shake and grind drowned out anything that would have been exchanged, had we anything to say to one another. That is not to say that there were no screams. My mouth curved into a sharp, wicked smile that showed my fangs gleaming cruelly through all of this. There was no smile more fitting than the one I flashed as I stood above others, as I stood above dear Celestia-

No, no. That name held little meaning to all but part of me, and a dying part that was only in memory.

A shriek ripped through the air, and my ears felt so mauled by the sharp, tearing sound that I staggered, clenched my jaw, and cringed at the harshness of it. That was all the proof I needed that Umbra had met my magic. I could sense, as the storm swarmed about him and wrenched itself deeper, slicing about his being. and severing the seams of his crumbling body. Crumbling was such a rough term. It suggested pieces and less pain. The agony that Umbra felt was not crumbling. That would be if there was something - anything - left to put together once more, or even reclaim and say was him. The scream unlike any other sounded again and just as I readied my wings for flight again, a jagged column of äerint fell, engulfed with my magic.

I gasped and jumped back at once, taking to the air with nothing but the sound of my frantic heartbeat echoing in my ears. Every part of me burned with the desire to retreat - the world was falling around me! The deed was done! In all this ruin, Umbra was unmade. He was being stripped to nothing, once and for all. That sound? The scream that stirred every memory of despair, anger, and moment of madness and hurt was the sound of his introduction to oblivion.

Smiling my cruel smile, I cocked my head to the side and peered upward in an effort to glean what might fall next and the howls that rocked all of Niflhel drifted up to my pained ears. I smiled just a little wider, and felt my mouth twitch. I would endure.

For now, I would endure the maddening experience of a world falling in on itself as magic that drained so much and pulled and tore ate away. The job would be done this time, and I would see it through - and it wasn't as if I wasn't sick enough to be watching this with anything but smug righteousness.

I wanted to see it all fall.

This was just a pocket dimension, and the one who screamed with no mouth, but from something within that was still left, and a dimension tied to the caster as Niflhel was to Umbra would collapse entirely.

I would finish what I started. Communication was not needed to do this. He knew he was done and I was the reckoner, too good to be restricted to his last moments. Eyes scanning the rapidly converging and diverging whirl of magic that struck me like stellar nurseries far, far away from a stardust bridge in the refreshing cold of space...

I risked a shake of my head to clear the memory, and the strength of vengeance sank in again, aiding in clearing my mind of any reminiscing of the outer world. From the ruins of a world torn asunder, there was something set free in the pregnant silence that fell with Umbra's last call. Pouring forth from the ruins of Niflhel's Heart was something that did not quite belong, but I had known was within the holds that had no living Alicorns - the only one had been found. 

It was a purplish white light that scattered like the lightest snows of foalhood in the north or fireflies on the loneliest peaks of the Unicorn Range, where the skeletons of cities were lit up in a silent dark that was never meant to be feared, and a sky full of stars crowned the sky, spreading everywhere.

Against everything, I was wonderstruck in the midst of all the destruction, that for a moment had lost its luster. This was what was left - the remnants of the souls of the gods. The family she never really knew.

The motes didn't scatter, but floated in a swarming cloud that drifted patiently, as though it were waiting for something. I almost faltered mid-flight as a groan that was painful to listen to rocked the ruins that fell victim to my magic more with each passing second. My vision clouded over and I raised my forehooves to my ears as the sharp pain rain in my head. Gritting my teeth solved nothing. Then, I realized I was falling and the world was with me. It could no longer stay suspended with its creator fried into oblivion.

Gulping sharply, I pulled up and flew out to where the chamber's looming ceiling had once been - it was dissolving faster in the violent swarm of my power. I felt like I was in a vacuum of pure chaos. The sight I had made painted the world like the night sky, and focusing on the shifting mass - and the dust of souls in it - helped me focus what I had left.

Slowly, and I'll admit, a bit sloppily, the world began to open just a tear as my horn lit on the last free slab of äerint that I could spot. As soon as the tear was complete, I readied myself to plummet towards it, only to watch the wisps - yes, that felt more fitting - to beat me to it, and pour into the waiting world outside.

My apocalyptic feat has been done, I needn't linger where I have no worship. No longer delaying my departure, I raced after them and glided out into the new world, and I went laughing.
> Chapter 51: O Brave New World
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Nightmare Moon:


A summer breeze warmed my face as I burst from the collapsing remains of Umbra's pocket dimension. Niflhel was gone for good, I was all that escaped. Well, not entirely. The wisps of pale purple whooshed outward and spilled from the tear in the sky, slipping under me like a kind of enchanting sea foam. Warmth rushed all over me, and I could not doubt that it was summer in this part of the world. Heat touched my skin through my fuzzy coat and breezes stroked my neck and teased my mane. This weather made me feel a bit heavier, but then I saw a curious sight.

Below me, and on the deck of a metal ship adrift in the air one that I felt to be Pink Sunset three figures looked up at me with pure terror.

The red light of the prolonged eclipse made them all look darker or paler, accentuating their fear and the blanket of clouds across the sky, now as dark as blood created dancing shadows that were in crooked and warped shapes, almost as though they were absorbing the crews.

I could breathe with ease here, and each breath I drew from the vast outer world was fresh and clean.

My curved horn glowed with dark purple aura and reached out. With a different circumstance like this, and a form that while not that of the goddess who usually raises and lowers the moon, was just like the shadows: not a change, but a different whole. This only meant the connection and magic were a bit different, nevertheless the moon was lowered.

Sunlight assaulted everything quickly, and my dark form felt out of place, highlighted in its harsh glare and making the sharp shape of my wings known. Scoffing, I rolled my eyes away from the sight and glided with lazy, but bold entitlement down to Pink Sunset's deck, where I touched down, bare hooves finding the metal surface to be slightly chilly - yes, I felt the cold where part of me couldn't and was numb to the sensation. Standing tall, I gave my companions a sweeping look of disinterest and tossed my mane, privately enjoying the subtle sparkles that came with the gesture.

"I know I'm a sight to behold, but can't you three even pretend that you have something better to do then gape at me like that?" I flashed them a mad grin, fangs exposed to let them know that I didn't mind in the slightest, except for the fact that we weren't going anywhere.

"Luna...?" The male Ali- Noctus, whom I felt a very faint connection to, despite myself, said. His voice was soft and cautious, like he thought I might bite him. "S-Sombra? What-"

"It's a very long story," I said dryly, frowning in his direction before glancing at the other two. 

Glitter Armor, I think he was called was trying to keep a face as straight as he was, but was unable to even manage something that looked bored. His blue eyes could not stare straight and his legs shook with terror, but still he tried to look dauntless. Perhaps there was somepony who found merit in what was foolishness attempting to pass as resolve - something I knew deeply - but it was not me. He was the next to speak, and yet it was clear he thought himself the first. A follower who saw themselves as a leader. Shining Sprinkle was undoubtedly an omega, if I was fishing for terms of social rank.

Cady was an oddball. Hers was not a face of fear, but a rather dopey look. She looked in my direction, her curls in slight disarray and purple eyes not focused, and didn't see me. I didn't need to guess at what she had been doing earlier, and was tempted to roll my eyes again.

She had to tilt her head up to look at me, and stuck her lower lip out in confusion, blinking slowly and looking at me with all the clarity she could manage. "So, uh, Nightmare Moon."

My mouth twitched into a faint scowl and I glanced down at her in greeting. To be called that struck such an unfavorable chord with me... it was my name, I guess, but if felt so sour to hear it.

Noctus looked like he was about to say something. I caught him mouthing a question, but Shining Armor risked looking away from me to offer a look suggesting explanations would be later.

I promptly returned my attention to my niece. "Yes, Cady? You may speak."

"I kinda expected you to be taller?"

I gave her a flat look. "I am not the same Nightmare Moon that I am so sure you know and love."

Cady's muzzle crinkled in confusion. "I've never met you before."

"Shush. Now, is that all you wished to say?"

"Your eyes are purple-ish."

The deck rocked slightly and I pricked my ears to hear the sound of the ocean raging below. Like Niflhel, the Isle's äerint spire would collapse shortly. Speeding up this conversation would be for the best. "Really? Thank you for enlightening me on this."

"They're also kinda reddish right now. Did you find something really good in there? Oh, oh!" She smiles broadly. "You shared it with Sombra and Luna, right? Where are they?"

Narrowing my eyes, I press my muzzle right up to Cady's and hissed: "I am them."

Cady blinked and her smile slowly grew wider. "Aww, sorry for missing that. Hiya, Uncle Sombra, Aunt Luna." 

Cady's confusion clouded her mirth again as her unfocused eyes looked me over. "Anuncle Lunbra? Is that a thing? How was it physically possible to say that? Is this too weird?"

I was promptly robbed of any chance to answer because dearest pink one had wrapped her forehooves around me in a careless but possibly appreciated embrace. 

"You're so pretty!" she cooed. "Shiny," she mumbled from within the hug while I cursed myself for being unable to stifle an uncomfortable expression. "Don't you think that they're so pretty? Look at that mane! Gosh, I wonder how much conditioner I'd have to go through to get it too look that nice, and don't even get me started on the natural wave to it. Sure, it's kinda shaggy but - Oh Celestia can I touch it? Please?"

I grumbled something that was not denial of confirmation and lowered my head for the sole purpose of shooting a harsh glare, icy disdain boring into the fearful blue of Shimmer Sparkle, who pursed his lip and found the ground to be of interest. Once the embrace had gone on long enough and Cady had the chance to touch my mane, I ran my tongue over my fangs in irritation and pushed the pink mare away with a haughty snort. Ponies flinging their hooves over me was not something I could find any enjoyment in.

"We need to get moving. Sombra is the endling, and all has been saved. You two-" My imposing stare found Glitter Sprinkle and Cady. "The both of you have a home to return to and families who have been mewling over your disappearance. Despite this, the services of you both have been nothing but appreciated. Glitter Sprinkle, you have lived up to the spinelessness Sombra knows you to have by doing nothing more than flying a ship and dying within, and for that I thank you - or, at least the part of me that cares sees fit to acknowledge this. Consider yourself a hero, if such a worthless fantasy entertains you."

Glitter Armor gazed to the apathetic heavens for existence. It was a remarkably un-poetic evening as well. "Your Sombra really is showing," he mumbled. "But I'll just pretend you said something nice. I'm sure the princess would've."

He was rewarded with a sound of disdain in the back of my throat before I gave Cady my attention once more, and allowed a little regality to take over the harshness I have shown up until now.

"Cadance." 

Her eyes found mine quickly, and I could see greater clarity in them now. "Yes?"

"Thank you for trusting all of me. Whether it was as a goddess fished from time at a dance she'd rather not have attended, you said the first 'hello' to somepony other than 'Celestia's sister' and that was me. Or, it was at the time. Thank you again for giving me even an inkling of trust and keeping my secrets even when I was a dangerous wanderer who would stop at nothing to live. Regardless of his augmented and immortal memory, he's never going to forget his first friend."

Cady swallowed awkwardly and sniffled. "H-Hey Sombra? Or the Sombra in your head? You can hear me, can't you?"

"He can."

"You're such a huge sap, you know that?" She grinned whole-heartedly and smiled up at me with a couple tears of joy pooling in her eyes and expressing what her currently clumsy tone could not.

"Cady?" I said softly, and unsmiling.

She nodded absentmindedly at the mention of her name and looked at me, purple eyes wide innocent anticipation. "Yes?" she whispered breathlessly, and just loud enough to be heard.

"Do remember who just demolished an entire pocket dimension and is a fused force of dual divinity and capable of magical cataclysms that could haunt your kind for the rest of this planet's life if I chose to remain in this form and practice all that I have within me. Just because I'm a 'last resort' as of now doesn't mean I must remain so, hmm?"

She gulped again and adopted a straighter posture. "Yes ma'am."

"I'm genderless," I deadpanned, "Or can you not see the demon horn sticking out of my skull? I'd think it's rather obvious. However, I suppose that I can respond to such needless titles. They only irk me so much."

She chuckled nervously and mumbled a quick, awkward apology. Glitter joined her, briefly. I saw fit to remind him with a destroyer god's glare that this ship still needed somepony to fly it, and that pony was him. Out of the corner of my eyes, Noctus looked to the ocean, thought of Niflhel as a cool wind swept by, and shuddered at the thought of everything I'd never know.



...



The moon hung high in the sky, illuminating the dark waves that churned below. Pink Sunset was moving steadily toward the northern continent - and toward Equestria.

To feel the chill of a summer night and the cold of the ocean air with occasional moments of warmth combing through my coat pleasantly was odd. It wasn't as strong as the moon, but the sensation registered oddly. I barely shivered, and on the occasion that I did, it felt hollow and even a little surreal. Was I supposed to feel this? I didn't think so, but I did and had, in my fight. Before my magic swarmed, the cold would have been vivid if I focused on it, but still not as brutal as the moon or ice.

I wondered how long it would last. What was awaiting all of us back in Equestria? 

Misunderstanding, accusations, reunions, questions - not much that would make me eager, and part of me agreed knowingly. She was all he had to look forward to. That I had to look forward to.

Sighing, I sat down upon the deck and let one bare hoof prop up my head as I watched the expanse of the ocean that was delightfully empty of others spread before me. The sight almost made me smile. I heard myself sigh again and ran a forehoof through my thick purple mane, tousling it, and hummed. Not having to sense so much magic all the time was lovely. Somepony might think it was a claustrophobic feeling, but it really wasn't. 

Nothing was free from that feeling. The subtlety of such a feeling varied, and no two creatures felt exactly alike, even if they would've never known that. The feeling of Umbra was beyond just repulsive. To have it expunged from the physical world is a wonder that I will take nothing but the greatest pride in being responsible for, yet I couldn't forget it. I didn't want to. I literally could not. The only magical presence I enjoy is my own, but that isn't hard to believe. 

Flicking my eyes up to the sky, I look up at the array of stars twinkling there, and can't shake the memory of the wisps that followed me here. They too had a peculiar feel to them, one I never liked or disliked, but made me curious all the same. I knew that they were out there while everypony else on this ship let the thought of them fade. Occasionally, the sound of laughter came from inside Pink Sunset. Shining Sprinkle appeared to finally be getting a chance to be anything other than the but of a joke.

I growled softly. Noctus mingled with those two surprisingly well, and had donned the guise of a pony so he could fit inside the ship. I was presently drained magically - anything beyond levitation, teleportation, and anything that wasn't second nature to me was an exhausting feat. Raising the moon was something the lunar goddess could do without thinking. I struggled not with it, but did not move it with total ease. Did Celestia sense that in distant Canterlot?

I was glad to be out here, and brushed off any suggestion I be with the others, no matter how slight. How was I to refuse a sky full of stars? Every bit of me just wanted to forsake Pink Sunset and leap into the dark and feel the wind racing past me as I broke through it, and the cold air against me at full speed, not as a buffeting and teasing breeze.

So many questions had been given more than fitting answers, but there were other things that must and had to be asked still. All I needed to do was arrive to where they might be answered, and would that require nothing short of another adventure?

Sighs kept escaping me. The world only seemed greater to those two with every new quest, and they yearned to see it, alone but together. I too held their desires, at least in part. Out there was somepony who held more answers and the unshakable thought of those wisps. I knew with every part of me and more that they lurked nearby. Was I not part clairvoyant?

I had to follow them.

"Luna?" an anticipated voice calls, "And Sombra too? Do you mind if I call you Nightmare Moon, or is that a name you do not hold in favor?"

"Presently, it is the only name I have. Is there something you needed to say?" 

"Yes," Noctus' voice ventured cautiously. 

I waited until he stood near my side, but not at it. Currently, he chose to appear in the form of a silver earth pony stallion with a mane and tail of pale blue streaked with white. His eyes were unaltered, his height reduced greatly, but his stockier build and regal air were unshakable. I caught his expression easily in the dark - a conversational smile that looked almost natural than something... something I might've seen before, I would think. This was either the shadow of a smile I was familiar with, or a version of something more whole that I might have seen. I imagine it must be both. I am not made of liars.

"What is it you wish to do, Noctus?"

He tried to hide that he found it awkward for me to address him as such, but was too transparent to me to hide anything. Had he even been trying?

"Well," he managed, not looking at me in the eye. Or at me at all. "I cannot expect to reclaim my position of High King of the Pantheon for a few millennia, or centuries at the least." He looked down. "And there is the matter of the empty throne beside it... your moth- Lumina is in no way replaceable. Perhaps Ellie would share the throne. She has always been a trusted mentor, and I have never discounted her judgement."

None of us needed to say he spoke more to himself than any other right now, but there was a part of me that felt concerned, even if I maintained something between curiosity at the night and partial disinterest in what he was saying. "Is there anything else? The world isn't what you remember, and there's no telling how long it would take to adjust to something like this."

For him, this wasn't a thousand years and finding that ponies have grown up a little. Noctus viewing the world would be looking at ponies who might as well be living exclusively in caves and walking around the world with blindfolds at their eyes for how they would appear to him. Not all names would have the same meanings, or any at all to these ponies. Entire civilizations were dust, and knowledge with it. The maps had been redrawn.

Noctus stared at the deck, seeing everything but what was in front of him and his smile evaporated. "My mind... oh, Luna," he swallowed and his eyes clouded over with a father's grief in tandem with a ruler's, "I do know that my mind is not the same, and will not be as it was. 'Fixed' would be far too strong a word. To even attempt to heal that, I would need nothing short of centuries of solitude from whatever infant societies that you and naive mortals have constructed in an attempt to begin anew. I think I should like a retreat, and would announce this to the Pantheon."

"Oh? You don't suspect any spat will result from this?" Something like a joking smile appears, just long enough for him to see.

Noctus smiles reluctantly. "Gods forbid that would happen," he says with a wink and practiced laughter that dies quickly. "These mortal friends you have a certainly something! That colt has the makings of a great leader about him and his wife is quite friendly. It would be hard to know any sadness in their presence, not matter how reclusive a creature you and your demon are, Luna." 

Kicking a hoof, he gives the stars a small glance before looking elsewhere. "I have always loved the company of others, Luna. You and your sister know how little your mother and I could be around. She had to be the crown, and it suited her, for if she had not mastered queenship and let it rule her she would have failed. Lumina was for the world and the throne - she had always been, and I was for the ponies in ways that she had difficulties with. You know..." He dared to raise his muzzle to look upon me, searching for the parts he wanted to see - his daughter - but still had trouble finding. "Luna you and Cellie are more than old enough to hear the stories now, and that includes the tales of the original demons and all of the world you never got to see. If I am to have a retreat, I would allow few guests, but you and your sister would always be welcome, as would your stubborn husband, regardless of how rude he is."

I looked down upon him with a straight face, but cocked my head to the side. "If it is Sombra you speak of, he is not Luna's husband."

While I was surprised by Noctus' wide, confused eyes and a small gasp, I did not let it show. 

"You are notmarried? But the way you two acted-" He shook his head. "Ah, regardless of that, I am certain you two will be wed soon. Now it is a city called 'Canterlot' that we must return this ship to? Young Cadance and Shining Armor mention it frequently."

I rolled my eyes and stared out into the splendid night. "Yes, it is Celestia's city of Canterlot that we must stop in. From there, it's the Pantheon..." Once more, I couldn't shake the thought of wisps like stardust, dancing across the sky...

Noctus regarded me curiously and experience in his eyes. "I know not when I will be running out of questions, and still have many to ask Princess Cadance and her prince about how Celestia has been doing in all these years, or at the very least how she is presently. If you wish to be chasing things into the night, I can tell them that you wish to depart. There is little you need within, correct? Princess Cadance appears to be managing a creature and has knowledge of a pocket realm that belongs to Sombra, but nothing else of importance is within? I know full well that the both of you are not social creatures - especially that demon - so speak now, and I shall relay anything on your behalf."

I shake my head. "No, there isn't anything. Just be sure that Cady doesn't mess with my stuff and locates the bottled Sky Scraper. That will have to be returned. And... how did you know I wanted to leave?"

There was a small, but authentic smile from Noctus - and a wistful one as well. "I am the husband of a prophet, I know when they must be off on their endeavor, Nova."

"Nova?" I questioned, and not without a suspicious edge in my tone. "What is the meaning of this label?"

"You were not fond of 'Nightmare Moon' were you? I thought you might not mind a name all your own instead of being addressed as 'Nightmare Moon' or that bizarre contraction that Cadance proposed. It bears a familiar sound to both your names, too. Luna and Sombra. Would you not think that makes it easy to respond to?"

"I suppose I could accept it..." Raising an eyebrow, I flash a contrary smirk to Noctus before remembering that I have visible fangs and returning to a scowl.

Noctus chuckles tiredly and looks to the stars earnestly. "I know that is you, Sombra. All of your kind have something about you that I could never stop doubting..."

"Are we really going to do this again?" I growl, glowering down at him.

Exhaling calmly, Noctus had the nerve to hold up a forehoof. "...Yet, I doubt nothing about your relationship with my daughter, Sombra. In that, you seem to be quite sincere, and surprisingly so."

Wait for it...

"I trust you enough. I would be willing to get to know you a little more, but I know that you most likely are not interested in knowing much about me. Despite this, I know we will likely be seeing more of one another. You are amazingly sincere, for a demon."

And there it is... I give an annoyed sigh and shoot a mild dirty look in his direction, and Noctus laughs softly.

"You are most certainly an enigma, Sombra - and Nova too, I still do not feel I understand you that much... or ever could. Demons are... well, not a species I ever hope to have too much dealings with in the future. I shall see you two at the Pantheon, then? Go, fly off into your brave new world as you are compelled to."

Against myself, I made a smile that only looked so much like a grimace and jumped into the night with nothing to catch me but the wind below my wings and soared away, Pink Sunset farther from myself and my thoughts with each wing beat as wanderlust set in. Such a feeling was as welcome as the stars above.
> Chapter 52: Nova's Tree, or Matters of Favorable Alignment
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Luna:


I didn't have time to gasp before my legs hit the cloud clumsily; my mind was too busy. I rejoiced and felt jarred by the fluffy, cool, almost-solid surface that my hooves were sinking into. An immortal is not a sloth, or unfit, even if we are born into it. Despite this, Nova wasn't adjusted to flying for two weeks, and landing was something that my experience could only do so much to improve when met with Sombra's clumsiness.

I could not bear to open my eyes, but the glimmering light of the soul-wisps still managed to find its way through my tired eyelids, and the lilac-white light is surprisingly gentle and soft, as moonbeams are. 

What a marathon this has been! I think with a jovial, if equally tired, heave. A journey like this is one I seek to do again to feel the world underhoof in full once more. I wonder if Sombra has had the same feel - to treasure isolation so - on his jobs as a mercenary.

My eyes fluttered open and a single name sat in my throat, nearly caught at the thought of the most important demon.

Sombra!

Where was he? 

I lifted my head up, blinking at the late dusk sky and the cloud embraced with the harmless wisps before me. They bobbed about to create an enchanting sight, like that of fireflies over a meadow on a summer eve. I felt a breeze ruffle my feathers, but just barely felt it. Sombra was no longer possessing and the last thing that-

A cloud-walking spell and another, different one to allow safer breathing for my companion at such a high place as my body shaped itself yet again, a mass of shadow and a tangle of long, slender limbs that belonged to me and me alone, spilling out and tumbling with a creature that was no pony-

Oh! Worry set in my heart yet again. That cloud-walking spell was well-timed, but Sombra was not without wounds when he-

Frantically, I looked to my left, only to see that Sombra wasn't there, and I began to grow worried. Hooves dug into the plentiful, comfy surface of the cloud as my stomach sank.

Still uncharacteristically clumsy and worn from the longest flight I have had in some time  - though, the endurance of my kind was great - I decided to roll over to my right in a flurry of feathers and hooves. My mane too, was long enough to be counted among these. While it still sparkled, it waved sluggishly. I still had to adjust to not having Sombra... I really did not have a word for what we did. I know it had been possession, and the reconstruction of Nightmare Moon so that things might have been complete, instead of how I did things so long ago - but just what was it that we had done? I simply haven't got a name for it.

As soon as I stretch my hooves out, I feel something - somepony familiar and wrap him into an embrace, dragging him through the thick fluff until I had him hugged tightly to my chest and my eyes shut once more - before I had even gotten a good look at him again. Unlike Sombra, I could not feel magic, and feel ponies but I wanted to feel him there.

The suddenness of this certainly startled Sombra who only responded with a profound response all wrapped within the brevity of one sound:

"Murp."

I hugged him closer, and began to stroke his fur after placing a kiss on his cheek.

To my surprise, he felt rather cold. Sombra was fluffy and extremely warm. His body, winter coat, and his normal, less fuzzy coat were always comforting in their warmth. I could think of few things that made me feel safer, or as though things were going to be okay other than being near Sombra like this.

I looked him over instantly and was greeted with a strange and magnificent sight.

"S-Sombra...?"

He nodded, never taking his wide crimson eyes off me. While his eyes searched my face, mine roamed across the sight of Sombra. He was solid and whole once more. I could feel his fur and stroke it as well as ruffle his mane. I flicked his fuzzy ear with a bit of magic and watched grumpiness flicker over his face briefly as the cold wind blew by, doing the same as I had done.

Far up here, the air was cold and thin. The wind was not without an icy feel, for this is the last cloud before our world spilled into all the others. The closeness I felt to the stars right now made my chest tingle with warmth. I couldn't wipe the expression of wonder for them off my face, and shivered slightly. My Alicorn body was still adjusting to this cold, and it was a trait I was glad my kind had.

Sombra should not be this cold. At least, not this fast. I rolled onto my stomach and positioned myself next to him, scooping him closer with my wings, and draped my right wing over him and nuzzled him until he lay upright with me. I noted instantly how he looked like he had been exposed, and that he ducked his head slightly so his mane spilled across his face and attempted to tuck his forelegs close to his chest and fold them there, like he expected his fluffy chest to hide them.

I did not know what words to speak for what I saw, not yet. Under my canopy of feathers that I had safely blanketing dear Sombra, I couldn't tear my eyes from his coat, and that is what most likely resulted in his unexpected display of... embarrassment?

His eyes were always the same. Even when displays of dark magic made them appear more feline, they were always his eyes. I could, and would, see no other in them.  It was the rest of him that was not as he usually appeared. He was not changed, not at all. Sombra did not change, but as of now, he was more himself than usual. I thought of no finer way to put it, as I watched him, entranced.

His coat was layered with bits of transparency, and these patches revealed the same colors and whorls - the displays of light that I had witnessed when I was with Onyx... and with him... before everything had merged and woven together and my mind - and I, Luna - was within another being...

Oh, it was all quite the experience.

And here was Sombra, who looked slightly ill - just a little pale, really - with the soft, pulsing glow of a crimson script that ran through his fur. I felt it, and it was like sunlight and dust motes - fragile, just barely tangible, and easily interrupted.

He made a small noise in the back of his throat - a confused, warbling trill - when I did this. His withers twitched. Sombra cocked his head to the side and I looked at that script again. 

The whole thing moved too fast for me to understand them, and faded into his coat just as quickly. The few symbols I thought I could glean changed on me. Perhaps this 'language' was a purely esoteric, and I could never learn it. And perhaps Sombra might one day share it with me, if such a thing was possible.

I caught the glimpse of what looked to be the sight of pages flipping and was struck by the memory of many spell books and field guides - anything that detailed both matters intellectual, magical, philosophical, and never without passion. Some locks of his mane appeared to be shifting, so they were interwoven with subtle wisps of shadow that were just as much a part of him as everything else, and it hurt to have to resist the urge to reach out and twirl them.

Sombra was a patchwork amalgam of all his different forms, and yet he fit seamlessly together and when I pulled him into a hug, he felt solid and real. For a time, I did not want to let him go. I did not want to say anything, I just wanted to feel Sombra there as we sat high in the sky. I think he wanted quiet too. He didn't say anything; he only hugged me back.

When we spoke again, it was automatic. The other's questions and concerns did not seem to be that unreadable. 

"What was all that?" I whispered into his ear, feeling the fuzzy tip tickle my muzzle. 

'Was' because I saw the lights and colors dim and his equinoid form and felt the fabric of a familiar crimson settled over him - and since I was holding him still, it draped over me as well.

I shifted and sat on my haunches, but kept holding onto Sombra, who wriggled a bit too. Eventually, he sat wither to wither with me and nuzzled my neck. When I turned to nuzzle him and remind him that I still wanted to hear an answer to that question and many more, I found myself unable to. Sombra was nibbling on my ear, and his deep purr rumbled across our patch of cloud and sky, drowning out my surprised gasp.

He did answer me, in time, but it was only between nibbles that he would pause to do so. Sombra even flashed me small smirks when he knew I wanted to see his face, each a small shadow of his usual,  irresistible smugness. They were like the heresy that was bite-size candies; I always wanted more. How he could even manage to smirk so handsomely, I have no idea. It was completely unfair! How could I resist a power like that? He was supposed to be the sappy romantic, and when he did that my chest felt like there was an ice cube melting inside when he did that and getting everything all wishy-washy.

"I'm not entirely sure what that was, Luna," Sombra said. He lowered his voice noticeably up here and his tone was nonchalant so far. I could hear a touch of flippancy below it before he would go back to nibbling my ears. "That's never happened before."

It was quite the dilemma for me: did I want him to keep nibbling my ears? With his cute little fangs it tickled a bit and I was trying my hardest not to giggle... and not to be too tense from holding back laughter. Or, did I want to hear his voice? After all that time in Niflhel and on Pink Sunset without him there, I wanted to hear him ramble about nearly anything. I wanted Sombra to tell jokes and say all the snarky things about what he's done and seen and felt. I yearned for him to narrate exactly why somepony was at fault for something and should be showered with the Right-Honourable Sombra's generous snide remarks and grumbles about anything and everything.

I decided on the latter. I was not ungrateful for his affection, but I wanted to hear what was on his mind. Nopony talked like Sombra did, and he might not be in the mood later, so I would listen now.

"Do you have any inkling to what that was Sombra? I saw your forms." At the thought of his shadowy mane I reached out a forehoof to stroke his, ruffling the disheveled black. I was rewarded with deeper purring that sounded even louder up close, especially when Sombra nuzzled the top of my head. He lit his horn and gently moved me closer to him. I felt his magic brush against my coat and tried not to shy away.

This was Sombra. I would be fine.

I was surprised that was all I needed to tell myself this time as he scooted closer to me as well, meeting me halfway on the cloud's puffy surface. Absentmindedly, I reached up a hoof to where my necklace rested, with the Tantabus within and-

It was gone.

I nearly fainted, but Sombra was there to catch me. I felt his forehooves wrap around my withers in a hug meant to steady me. That necklace that carried the burden that had been weighing on my mind and heart for two... no, no, no it has been almost three years, I am certain... oh, I feel so dizzy.

Sombra noticed my irregular breathing first. Of course he would - he was Sombra. He always noticed far less obvious things. Leave it to Sombra to notice something a pony doesn't even know about themselves. The only reason he hadn't noticed the Tantabus was because it was part of me, though it was stored otherwise. Worse still, it had been part of me, and a part I could remove... so was it no part of me at all? I know it was a brick in the wall of my own malaise, and now...

"You're free, Luna. Whatever happened, that thing is gone." The way he began 'whatever' and what followed had a quality of uncertainty to it. It was not at my freedom, but making it known that he had little memory of exactly what had transpired. After his pause, his certainty was undoubted and the venom for how he addressed the Tantabus plain.

Free...

I nodded, but dreamily. Something about that word - there was something that I should remember, I just know it. I was free from the Tantabus but-

But what? Everything Onyx said to me is crystal clear, but-

Oh, Onyx! It was about him!

Sombra made a small grumbling noise - a grumpy one, not a growl - and his smirk faded until he had an admittedly adorable scowl on his face, but it was not directed at me. "Some pieces of what happened after you and I... well, they're missing," he grumbled. It was not a question. When Sombra was certain, it was confirmation enough.

I nodded and looked out at the stars. Whenever I solved problems, I liked to think of having scattered points. Some connected, some didn't, and others connected only with time. I need only to fish for possibilities, take my time, and use what I know - the rest happens, well, in between the stars.

"Do you feel strange otherwise?"

"Not particularly. Possession doesn't have that many after effects on me other than memory rush and I didn't touch your memories."

"Thank you," I said sincerely, and beaming at him. At the sight of my heartfelt smile, Sombra places a soft kiss on my muzzle.

When he pulls away - and before I had a chance to reciprocate, the fiend! - there is a smirk working its way across his muzzle, with the left side of his mouth curled upward and he can't seem to shake having a sardonic look about him. Not that I mind.

"What does 'memory rush' do to you?"

He shifts next to me, and the little gift of a smirk softens to a thoughtful, neutral expression. "Depending on how bad it is, it can feel like I'm hallucinating. Usually the worst that'll happen to me is I'll just be overwhelmed with what I'm seeing. That usually only happens if there's something very intense in a pony's life - and something that I register as intense - when I see their memories, accidentally or otherwise. The only lasting effect is that it's best not to teleport for a few hours afterward."

"You've possessed how many other ponies before?" I look at him after I finish, and find him frowning while those handsome crimson eyes burn fiercely with the recollection of something unpleasant.

"A lot," he says brusquely. "It happened in the Crystal Empire, and it wasn't always of my free will I chose to do that. In fact, I usually didn't. Drop it?"

I nodded quietly and stoke his mane again. "I didn't mean to pry, Sombra."

He sighs, but the annoyance in it isn't directed at anypony in particular. "You and nopony else. Any reason in particular you thought it'd be a good idea to chase these?" He swept a now-armored foreleg around to indicate the luminous soul-wisps while staring boredly at another cloud floating by, silently judging its very nature while I wondered, in the back of my mind, if I would get him to nibble my ear again soon.

I flicked one towards Sombra and looked around, thoughts of Onyx momentarily dismissed. I would be sure to tell Sombra about them later, if I had a conclusion that I could use to order things. This would be important to him, I just know it. The answer is waiting for me to find it, and need only wait a little longer. I'm sure I'll remember. Our memories of Nova are a strange puzzle, with the pieces divided between us.

Since we separated, my whole body has felt tingly on occasion - like when Sombra was about to light his horn and when his magic brushed me. It isn't an affliction of the skin, or any kind of malady that I know of. I would say that it almost feels like something had been left inside me in trace amounts. When Sombra and I acted as Nova, it was using my body as a foundation for everything.

I have some recollection of what feeling magic had been like... to explain it, even to myself, and piece together the experience that resulted from so many in-the-moments sensations and the chilling rush that different magics gave... oh, how long that would take. This is information I must digest and work through carefully.

I pull Sombra close again, startling him slightly, as he produces a small, surprised trilling noise which disrupts the small purr he had begun to make in my silence. I relish in the fact that he feels warm again, and gently nip one of his ears. He flinches, and what goes unspoken is understood: I like ear nibbles; he isn't partial to them.

I try to see if this works, and let my mind clear and try to focus on what it had felt like to sense magic. That would explain the tingling that ran within me - something I imagine would have likely been worse for a mortal, but that is just a guess. It was a post-possession side effect, no doubt. What Sombra did... it went beyond normal possession.

Some time passes, and I release him once I am certain that the feeling has slipped away, but not before I can give him another nip, this one being quite teasing. 

He lays his presently fluffy ears back and gives me a tame warning growl without parting his lips in a snarl.

Gingerly, I pet the top of his head and sweep aside his bangs as an apology. A pointed look is all I get in return, but it lets me know that the apology has been accepted. Now, I can finally tell Sombra what I have been thinking.

"The magic sensing effect lingered," I began. "As soon as you..."

...And now I had already paused so early. What could I possibly say to describe the feeling of when his shadow-form seeped into me without sounding... offensive to him? Inexperienced with such matters like possession? Wrong? Intensely uncomfortable the more I dwell on it in hindsight?

Sombra's eyes search my face, and I see nothing but concern in them. I watch his ears perk up and him bob his head in a little nod before he leans over and brushes his fuzzy cheek against mine and whispers in my ear:

"Go on," he says carefully, "you know I want to hear you. We may be here forever but these clouds won't be."

Nodding slowly, I grab one of his forehooves. He lights his horn and the armor retracts into a leg band. I clutch his hoof tightly and wait until I don't feel so scared.

I like it when he nuzzles me. Or hugs me and holds me. When he brushed up against me right now, that felt better than nice. Just sitting next to him and holding his hoof is wonderful. Being possessed by him is scary.

It is 'scary' because I should never be afraid of Sombra. He's the most amazing creature and has a great sense of humor. We can talk about everything, or we can talk about nothing. I should not ever be scared of him. Not now, not ever. He won't hurt me, he won't hinder me. And yet, the experience was still an awful one in many ways.

He didn't hurt me when he possessed me. Not on purpose. It hurt a little, like when one tears a bandage away and there is a sting. This was not a sting but it wasn't dissimilar.

I'm sitting here with him, completely calm, and yet utterly horrified. It feels like there's something disgusting inside me and oh, why did I have to think about this now? We were having such a lovely time. Did I ruin it?

He didn't hurt me at all. I don't ever want him to do that again. He's the greatest pony I have never known and not some horrible parasite. He isn't a monster. But I don't think I can have him do that again. It felt wrong, and not because ponies aren't supposed to do that. We are not ponies.

I want Sombra to be out here.

Sombra taps my wither and his eyes are worried. He's going to stay right here, that's what his eyes say.

He's sorry. They say that too, and I squeeze his hoof tighter. I trust him with anything.

Anything.

His eyes ask me if I can just go on, and we can talk about the parts that are bothering me later.

We have a later now.

I nod. I do not exhale sharply. I held no breath in, but I shiver a little. This dark spell was not pleasant.

"Too much of my magic rubbed off on you," he says, expression serious, but not stern. "That right there - you almost had a panic attack because of-" He stops himself and fixes his eyes on me. I lean against his wither and silently wish that he won't look away. 

He doesn't, and continues. "You've never had one before have you?"

I shake my head.

"That's..." He sighs, and I can hear some longing in his voice. "That's really nice, Luna. You won't have one again."

He nuzzles the top of my head, and adds quietly: "They're far worse when you can sense magic and feel it seeping like I can..."

They must be, I say with only a quiet nod into his wither.

"Do you remember at all what it's like to feel magic? Even in pieces?"

When I nod, I hear a familiar dry chuckle that always manages to make me feel at least a little bit better.

"What is it you felt that you want to talk about?"

I take a deep breath and sit up, straight and dignified with my mane flowing freely. A lock or two must've been knotted slightly because I feel Sombra run a hoof through the thick mass of hair, undoing it.

That knot - it really was too small for a knot, but Sombra has keen eyes - was like Sombra and I. Our magic had started to rub off on each other, at least slightly. Magic could never completely transfer over or do anything so silly just because two entities were in the presence of another. 

I felt it when I saw through Nova's eyes. No, a little before that when the sense was temporarily born within me - which was the only part about the possession that had been inherently painful; only demons had the basis for this sense to exist - and Sombra had not yet merged everything...

He dreamt because of me. The magic he had worked on himself - eight years of forced wakefulness, and one before that with sporadic rest combined with Onyx in his mind had meant that he was unable to dream, and any hollow shadow of a dream that he might've had as simply the barest impression of something in sleep and nothing more - had robbed him of any chance. I had no doubt other things he had done to himself contributed to that absence. Sombra's time in the icy void he was imprisoned in only addled this further, and it pains me to know that for most of his life Sombra didn't even have the solace of dreams to comfort him when he needed it.

Onyx being sealed by the Heart - and what a mighty seal it was! - was enough for my presence to have an effect on him... which was something that few among the gods were able to do. With all that's happened here, I might as well be growing up all over again!

Onyx...

Free...

The two words burst in my mind like star's light when a cloudy veil moves away and lets the light shine.

I swallowed and liked my lips a little before I finally felt confident enough to speak because through the puzzle that were Nova's memories, which only belonged to me in part, I had finally pieced something together, and thus I knew what had happened.

"No, Sombra," I began, and my voice was strong, caring, and regal. "It is you who are free."

The wisps around us, clinging to the surface of the cloud and making us a beacon of light in a gorgeous, dark world almost twinkled audibly with the heavy silence that followed.

Sombra had redefined conflicted. His expression was mostly shock, pupils small in the dark. He was startled and exasperated, joyous and disbelieving. The way he had placed his hoof on my wither made it feel like his boot was still on, his grip was simply so tight.

"I-I saw him, Sombra. In the strange form, where you are like a nebula and-"

"That's my original form," Sombra said quietly, voice hoarse. "I think I remember you..." He buried his face in his forehooves. 

"This is real," he said with a voice that asked no questions and doubted nothing, but was emotional all the same. I swear that he sounded as though he mourned something. It was not Onyx and it would never be him, but I do not doubt for one bit that Sombra was not mourning something deeply private.

"This is real," he repeated. His stubborn urgency was enough to escape the muffling forehooves.

"It is," I said softly, nudging him gently with my muzzle. "All this is very real, and I am here with you."

As if agreeing or simply encouraging something, the wisps gathered around us glowed brightly, but softly and Sombra was bathed in their whimsical glow. His gray coat and dark hues of all but his eyes, magic, and cloak were a notable, stark contrast to the world around him, so that he appeared to be an odd centerpiece to this world and sky from which all else unfolded, as he could do nothing but stand out.

I was not prepared for when Sombra abruptly - and I must admit, rather roughly this time - seized me, pulling me into a deep surprise kiss. My mane rippled slightly faster before I could acknowledge what was happening and spilled around me fluidly.

As soon as I freed my forehooves from his grip - again, it was too tight and sudden for me to call it an embrace - I wrapped them around his neck and withers - whichever I could get my hooves on - before returning the gesture.

Tragically, I still needed to breathe. After I felt the need for air become all I could focus on, I had to shove Sombra away without using too much of my Alicorn's strength. As strong as Sombra was, I most certainly did not wish to push him off the cloud.

It was impossible not to stare up at him and appear anything other than... well, lovestruck. As amazingly pragmatic, take-things-very-slow, and extremely reluctant as I can be with all of this it's hard not to treasure Sombra so.

My awestruck expression shifted into one of our smiles. I wanted to laugh a little but everything was so tranquil...

Instead, I smile and plant a kiss on Sombra's muzzle, and it felt impossible to look away from his eyes - the only ones I never minded looking at me the way he does. He wasn't a noble who might as well be nameless except for the looks they gave me that only made me long to be invisible. Sombra wasn't a delusional, naive, and annoying would-be suitor who wanted to court a princess and pretend to know anything about Luna - or to think only on the title before my name, as though I were like dear Tia and devoted all to that title, encouraging the thought of serene perfection.

He was nothing like that. He was Sombra, and I loved him.

And Sombra was currently enjoying the feel of my telekinesis running through his mane and being pet as a soft purr sounded occasionally.

"Sombra?" I asked softly.

The purr warbled to a sudden stop. 

"Mrph?" Sombra questioned elaborately.

"I love you," I said, an unstoppable smile spreading across my face until I beamed at him. My magic booped him softly upon his muzzle, and he purred in confusion as mild bewilderment made its way across his features. "I'm not sure I tell you that enough."

Eventually, Sombra chuckled briefly and flicked a few strands of my mane with his magic, draping them across my face until I had to spit them out, twitch my muzzle until they fell away, and pouted until Sombra could bear it no longer, and he removed them. He was rewarded for his great and magnificent feat with a long scratch under his chin with careful strokes of my magic. Sombra's purr was loud, like the deepest rumbles of oncoming thunder and his eyes shined with nothing short of happiness.

To make up for the oh-so-disappointing fact of being unable to scratch him under his chin forever, I teleported next to him quickly, and pulled him into a warm hug. Since he doesn't like getting nips or nibbles near his ears, I flicked one teasingly - that got me another 'murp' noise and nuzzled behind his ears instead, which he liked. I felt him relax and cuddled him closer, and he relaxed even more in my embrace.

At the start of all this- No, 'the start' would be the Crystal Empire. Our paths have only recently converged.

When Sombra and I first spent time with one another on the Sky Scraper, he and I were already off to an amazing start, though I did originally suspect he had a mercenary's want for payment. I was able to talk to him easily, more often than not, because of how anti-social he was instead of how 'approachable' my sister and everypony else was. His ability to be approached lay in the fact that he wasn't approachable.

We had made small displays of affection... mine were as simple as compliments that I meant wholeheartedly, helping him, listening to him... and Sombra? Sombra was trying to get to know me with a different possibility in mind, but still spent time talking to me and doing the same things that I did for him, and more.

Our starting affection was very awkward. He flinched at my touch for more reasons then his love for me being unrequited at the time. Sombra had been hurt. He's very brave not to show it so obviously, but I know where to look, and I'll never lose sight of the rest of him.

And now? Sombra's response to my affection wasn't to flinch or any similar responses. He smiled and laughed, and was caring and patient with me. I have a feeling that in the future, Sombra might be even more willing to bestow affection on those he cares for.

I stroked his cheek a couple of times, and felt a shift in how he set his jaw. Looking at him and gently tapping him so he knew I wanted him to look at me, I saw that when he turned closer, tilting his head slightly, his expression was now a serious one and his eyes burned with contemplation.

"Is something bothering you, Sombra?" He looked like he wanted to hear my voice, and the way he pricked his ears in my direction told me that my hunch was true, no matter how obvious my question might be.

He doesn't look at me. "Did you see him?" 

Sombra's direct, troubled tone gets an instant nod from me. "I did see him."

There's no need for a name, Sombra knows who I refer to. I reach out a forehoof and curl it around his withers, snaking it through his mane to stroke it carefully and straighten out his cloak for him by brushing the crimson fabric clean of any bits of cloud. I marveled at the impressions of script that looked like marks, dyed into the fabric. Almost as soon as I caught sight of the elusive things and let my hoof brush them, they were gone.

"You talked," Sombra says bluntly, and distantly. It was no question.

I nuzzled him softly and spoke in a careful whisper. "Yes, I did speak with him, Sombra."

"And?" He sounds worried, so I pull him into a tighter hug.

"And what, Sombra?" I ask softly, petting one of his ears.

"What did you think?" he mumbles into my coat. "What did you see? What did he-"

When his tone grew more frantic I kissed the top of his head and then looked at him since he would not meet my gaze. Sombra's eyes were damp.

"What's wrong?" I whispered, and began to hum in his ear, and continued to do so when I wasn't giving him careful replies. "I thought him repulsive and I saw a monster."

There. Sombra felt a bit more relaxed when I said that, but no happier. Poor fellow.

"May I assume next that you wished to know what he said?"

Sombra nodded quietly.

"He said nothing flattering about you, and nothing that would ever garner my sympathies. I haven't a bit of pity for him, even if he is a child."

Sombra mumbled something and then stop abruptly, but I did not catch what it was he said.

"Sombra, what was that?" I toyed with a lock of his mane by running my magic through it. "Could you please speak up? I do want to hear what you have to say."

"Would you..." He paused and sighed raggedly, and I heard the apprehension in it. "Would you... forgive him?"

I blinked, and felt as though water had been thrown in my face, startling me. "S-Sombra?"

He started to shake a little. "W-Would you? You're so kind to me and... Would you be just like everypony else? Would you do what they would? Luna would you forgive him because he's a child, or ever? Do you think that-"

"NO!" I shouted, to him, to the sky, and to myself. I clutched Sombra tighter, and while he stopped shaking, I felt him squirm. "Sombra I would never forgive him. The things that Onyx did to you and... He had his chance, Sombra. He was born with one. I am kind to you, to my sister, and to Cady because you have all earned my kindness. I am not cruel to ponies, but kindness, respect, and forgiveness are not something I would give so wantonly. They are reserved for my loved ones. I would seek to be a just ruler, not a kind one. I admire professionalism."

"You'd never forgive him," Sombra mutters, nibbling my withers slightly and then stopping.

"Never," I confirm. "I would never forgive just anypony. Why, there wouldn't even be meaning in that. Forgiveness isn't to be tossed out so freely. It is a gift."

"...Then what would you do with him?" 

I pull Sombra up close to me so I can shower him with nuzzles and so he can watch me as I give him an answer. He looks at me, but also something behind me, with curiosity. I imagine he likes the bright light of the wisps. I've seen him bat at moonbeams and sunlight before, so he might seek to be entertained by them.

"I would love nothing more than to have Onyx executed, if I could get ahold of him and he were anything but a shade, or whatever he is now. Disembodied."

Sombra nods, and I go on.

"There would be too much trouble with a trial, but I would like to get, ah, sort of confirmation, I would put it, for the sake of formality. Rushing into things has never been something I would endorse. Even battle cannot be blindly rushed into, and neither can justice."

"A trial..." Sombra mutters, and the disdain in his tone is clear.

"Well, something like it. He'd be a very unusual case. Murder is not a common crime in Equestria, or any god-governed nation that is known. Serial killers and mass murderers? Why, you and I both know that they're basically unheard of." I stroke his mane, and watch as Sombra looks at me, quite calmly, as I talk. "Onyx would be a special case, especially considering the circumstance around him. There would be no jury alive I would trust to even glance at a case like this, and there's also the matter of you, dear Sombra."

Sombra's pupils dilated. "Me..."

I nod carefully. "Yes, you. You're an immensely important individual, and would be crucial to an event like this. You would even be pressured by the masses-"

Sombra growled softly.

"-and more. Your private life, secrets, and security... any of that would be exposed harshly. I would never allow such a thing to happen to you."

Sombra is no longer looking at me; his entire focus is on whatever is behind me, and his ears are laid back and fangs bared, which sends chills down my spine when a feminine monotone that carries both cold detachment and wisdom in her tone speaks behind me:

"Luna Galaxia, you are certainly not your mother's daughter. She had the utmost faith in ponies, but she was a Spark of Magic. That seems to be a pattern with them: a faith in ponies that can prove powerful or foolish. Now, the last time I truly saw you, Luna, you were but a filly swaddled by your mother with a sister who coveted you like a jewel, and then... I might have glimpsed you in a blink from my slumber. The trouble you had with the last draconequus on this world has left me weary, and you and your sister thinking they can harvest whatever fruit they please has left me quite drained. And now, here you are, as a young mare, at your world's end with a lover even I find shocking."



...



Sombra and I stood before a phantom that cast no shadow for us to stand in. Her glittering wings of translucent, sparkling blue matched her coat and body. She stood expressionless, with eyes of pure white light that only seemed to glance over us, and had no focus. They were absent of either iris or pupil, and saw everything, giving none in particular her attention unless she were to swivel her head and look upon you and you alone.

Her mane and tail of rainbow light reminded me of the aurora of the Crystal Empire and her horn was quite long. She loomed over us, exceeding even my sister's height.

Sombra's opinion of her was quite plain. He stood away from her, tall and arrogant with suspicion in his eyes and gave her an unwavering, hard glare. Unlike me, he was a few extra steps away from her and digging his hooves into the cloud. We knew that her power was great; Sombra's small measure against swaying with unsteadiness was just an unneeded confirmation. The only gesture he allowed me now was letting me drape a wing over him after I had backed away, joining Sombra. It was both a protective gesture as well as one meant to allow him to lean close to me if needed. Nevertheless, he only looked more aggressive with my dark feathers around him.

I stood quietly, and reserved where he stood proud and unconquerable. Neither outshone the other, but he was clearly fire and I ice. No effort was made to conceal his fierce calculating stare that the spirit refused to meet.

She did not smile. Any emotion she was capable of was not expressed in conventional ways, but she knew who I was, and I knew of her.

"You are my mother's 'friend', the one who guided her and told her prophecies and the meaning of many of her dreams. It was you who shielded us from the Collapse where more than ignorance of our existence would be needed to fool Umbra... and yet Celestia and I still left the forest."

The spirit inclined her head in a partial nod. "I am Harmonia, this world's Tree. Your mother had a personal name for me, but to you I am as I have always been: Harmonia Everfree."

"And what are you to me, Deadpan Dryad?" Sombra asked, tone challenging and a cocky smirk flashing across his face. I savored the sight of it while it lasted.

Harmonia, the closest there was to an entirely omniscient being in this world, blinked quickly and showed the tiniest trace of confusion and barest hint of displeasure. "Do you have any idea who or what I am, young god? Or, would you prefer Sombra, Endling of Demons?"

Sombra scoffed. "Sombra the Enigma works best." He gave me another very knowing smirk when he spotted my light blush. "But I've also been known as Sombra the Mad. There used to be a pointless title in front of it, but it was never mine."

"Mad you do seem," Harmonia said quietly, not caring who heard. 

Sombra's response was a short, humorless chuckle that the slightest twitch of her mouth tells me she did not expect. "Mad but not wrong. As to who you are, you're the spirit that Lumina of the Light followed. She was your Champion," Sombra said knowingly. He really didn't look surprised to see her. "You're nicknamed the Gods' God, even if there is no such thing. It's not arrogant to think one being could control all the intricacies of the universe, it's just stupid. You're not omnipotent, so don't think you could ever get away with such an act to me. I know far better."

I nodded, and let some pride show. "He is most educated, as you might come to see."

She actually looked at Sombra. "The God of Knowledge? Is that what you are?"

Sombra rolled his eyes. We both knew that Harmonia already knew in full or in part what Sombra was the god of, only I tried to humor her occasionally. Sombra did not want, and chose, not to do so.

"No, I'm the God of Facetiousness. Tremble before me!" He waved one forehoof flamboyantly.

The sound of me choking by laughter ended when one of Harmonia's blue ears flicked toward me.

She returned her attention to Sombra, who stood proudly and aware that he had the undivided attention of the most powerful - though not in bold or direct ways - being in the known world.

"Then you are easily the most dangerous god. No matter where your power levels off, or where the power of your fellow divine stops increasing too, you will never stop learning, and that makes you almost infinitely dangerous."

Sombra meets her gaze easily, suddenly serious. There is a sinister glint in his eyes as he looks at her ominously through his bangs, slowly running the tip of his tongue along his fangs. "You know what the sad thing is?"

She pauses, and I hold a solemn silence.

"What?" Harmonia speaks without any trace of interest, but the slight narrowing of her eyes says otherwise.

"You only just realized that," he gives her a venomous smile full of smugness. "If you had any idea of what had been going on in whole and weren't an entity that sunk so far into deep slumbers, you would have done something to intervene before I obtained divinity. It isn't even sad so much as downright pathetic." His eyes roamed over her coldly. It didn't matter that the magic she radiated would cause him to stagger on his own. Even with my wing about him, Sombra was nothing short of completely imposing.

Harmonia was silent. The rippling of her mane was nearly audible, as were the wisps that had moved so they clung close to her. "What would you say to me if that were true?"

Sombra smiled coldly and without mirth. It was devious, and I got chills watching it. "Why, the same thing I'd say to you if it weren't."

"Which is?"

I watched Sombra, choosing to focus on the hood of his cloak instead of his intense, triumphant expression.

"Tell us why you're really here," he said with a small shrug, while his smirk only grew with the gesture, vanishing when it ended with a toss of his mane. He lit his horn to tug at his cloak when he did, and I caught a small array of crimson sparkles drifting near his mane and dying quickly. My heart felt as malleable as mud.

"Go on. I only have forever to wait," Sombra added, his smirk returning, cruel and sardonic. I felt like I was melting inside.

"I am here to talk," Harmonia said flatly, but she still looked at Sombra for a moment longer before taking in the both of us.

"You really desire to keep him as anything short of a weapon?" Harmonia asked. The slight change in her tone told me just how useless she knew the question was. "I only ask because of how well I knew your mother. She was..." Harmonia paused, and added in the same level tone, "...a friend. She was like a very dear friend to me, and her forgiving the blight Penumbra... Even now, it was neither surprising or expected, but a measure of both. Penumbra was submissive and humble, this one is not."

"This one can hear every damn word you say," Sombra grumbled.

"I have gone to the end of the world with Sombra, and would do so endlessly if only he could accompany me. Sombra is my equal." The conviction in my voice feels so true, and I feel Sombra nudge me with a small bit of playfulness. It is true.

"I'm her only peer," Sombra says, proud once more.

"I see. You, Luna Galaxia, would accept such an unnatural creature as a partner? I do not endorse or desire to see your union-"

"We aren't married," Sombra and I deadpan in unison.

"Oh," Harmonia says, tone still level and betraying nothing. "Well then, I am neither for or against your... partnership. Even if I was either or, it is not a matter in which I have any place."

"Damn right," Sombra grumbles, nudging my cheek with his muzzle. I lean into his touch and keep listening.

"But Luna, I would caution you against embracing a relationship with such a creature. Demons are not... they are quite vile, if I am to put things as tamely as possible."

"Oh yes, Sombra is so vile," I say, placing a kiss on his cheek to say 'don't listen, you'll be okay'.

He nibbles my ear sneakily before we return our attention to the primordial spirit to make it clear that nothing had happened and yes, we have listened attentively.

"His kind are equines not to be, as I imagine you know. They lack even the barest, core experiences any living creature is meant to have. Unlike any equine, they are capable of eating flesh."

Sombra shifts uncomfortably next to me. I wonder what this spirit would think if I told her that Sombra was a vegan and was disgusted by the very thought of eating any flesh. The closest thing he has ever come to such a thing would be him mentioning he has bitten in self-defense. 

Sombra is an omnivore then? I lean my head against him, but he feels tense. Poor Sombra. He had just begun to relax earlier. I don't mind if he's an omnivore... for an equine it's a little gross, but with those fangs? He was made to be omnivorous, I wouldn't protest if he wasn't going to eat as a pony or Alicorn would. I've seen more than my share of gore. So what if he's not an ovi-lacto-vegetarian like everypony else?

"Your lover is a false creature, and of that you should be aware."

Sombra growls and I wrap my wing tighter around him. "I find Sombra better company than any pony, precisely because he isn't one. Do you know what I have to say if you keep slandering his fine name?"

Harmonia looked down at me. "You certainly are not your mother's daughter. There is a strong air of rebellion around you that none other than your demon companion have."

"I'm just going to take that as a compliment," Sombra grumbled, rolling his eyes. "The opposite of rebelliousness would be accepting and going through everything as a living insult."

"It was an observation," Harmonia said quietly. "Now, Luna, just what is it that you are threatening me with?"

"Ppht."

Harmonia drew back, surprise finally showing plainly upon her face. I would dare say that she even looked mortified. Next to me, I heard Sombra laugh. He needed it too.

"Ppht. Ppht. Ppht. Ppht."

"Are you going to keep doing... that?" Harmonia ventured. "Sticking your tongue out at me?"

"Ppht. Ppht," I responded honestly.

Harmonia's dull expression resumed. "I see. I have only offered you warning, and you have continued to rebel against it though I caution you against the company of a dangerous creature."

"I too am quite dangerous," I say, pulling Sombra closer. "But what is it that you possibly think you could do to deter me? My mind is not malleable and my heart is true. You are a being of light magic that is but only a projection of your true self: the Tree of Harmony. It is ironic that an entity like yourself, though not the same as myself or any other living creature, would be speaking out against Sombra for being something you are not. He is still flesh and blood, but there is great magic there as well. He is not some deranged construct and has outshone his kin, who are accountable for their own deeds, not his."

Sombra gave me a kiss on my cheek, softly and discreetly, and I stroked his wither with my feather tips and stared straight at Harmonia, more determined than ever while Sombra looked on, amused, and cautious to be a safe distance from a being like Harmonia, who could harm him if he made contact with her.

"That is a very dangerous view."

"And?" Sombra and I question together. While I didn't roll my eyes like he did, we both managed to refrain from bursting out laughing... although, I had a harder time doing so. Sombra had a disdainful edge to his tone that I didn't, but our message was the same.

Harmonia's expression softened slightly. "Are you two aware of just how much you will be up against? There are no gods more dangerous than the both of you-"

"If this is going to lead to some amazingly stupid heard-it-a-thousand-times-before remark about just how criminal our deeds, mentalities, and my existence is, I'd suggest that you gather whatever sticks you want to shove up your rear from the ground, where Luna and I currently aren't so we can go about the rest of our lives without another inconvenience like yourself in it. Eventually your planet will die, and you with it. Luna and I, if we've made it that far and are still in another's company will just go spend the next part of our eternity somewhere else and you'll never have to hear from us or see us again, mostly because you'll be dead. What's even better is I won't ever have to deal with you, and won't that be grand?" Sombra finished his snappy, sarcastic remark with a humorless stare directed at Harmonia.

I think she almost blinked, and just barely didn't shift her attention to him and him alone. "I was going to say nothing like that."

"Really?" Sombra says incredulously. "No lectures about your views on good and evil that are about as diverse as Celestia's two-color world and how I can be tossed into one category and remain there forever and without question? Now isn't that a surprise!"

Sombra is able to ignore me tugging on a lock of his mane for saying my sister's name so cruelly.

He'll certainly be getting a few ear nips later, I thought, feeling the beginnings of a scowl on my face.

"What is it that you wish to speak of then, Spirit Harmonia?"

Once more, she held us both in her gaze. "Do you know just why you two are so dangerous?"

"We're intelligent," Sombra said, narrowing his eyes.

"We rebel," I added.

"We question," Sombra said, posture straightening.

"We dream."

"We work alone."

"We hope for greater things," I add.

"We're honest," Sombra says, not hiding the distrust in his tone.

"We endure."

"We sass." Sombra smirked slightly.

"We fight," I concluded, and the both of us looked to the great spirit before us, awaiting an answer.

She must have gotten better at disguising any surprise from the things we did and said, because none showed this time. A statue revealed far more than she did. "Those are all... very blunt answers."

"So they're true," Sombra said, raising an eyebrow. "You've carelessly labelled them blunt and I'd be a fool to say you weren't taken aback, even a little. Every one of our answers are true, and you know it. Refusing to confirm them or acknowledge that I'm right will only reinforce a futile effort to remain impartial - or at least have the air of it - and deny that I've bested you. My only question is this: What's the whole truth? Be blunter, and I promise that I won't attempt to stir up anything by disclosing any of what's happened here, in part or otherwise... including any alternate versions of the truth. You know that any knowledge you give us will disrupt what we can laughably call the fragile mind of the average mortal, or cause unrest and uneasiness at the very least. A single seed of doubt can still work its way past a wall if it has the chance. Would you risk that?"

I wanted to smirk alongside Sombra, but choose to watch the spirit carefully while Sombra had a chance to show his glory, puffing up his fluffy chest with pride and directing his unwavering, cool stare at Harmonia alone. A wicked gleam shone in his eyes.

"In short: Give me what I want. I currently have every advantage over you."

"You tempt fate," Harmonia said dully.

Sombra laughed coldly. "You joke by bringing up what's little more than fancy." His gaze flicks to the sword sheathed at his side, and the look he gives it is knowing, for he and I know a private joke: Sombra wields Fate like a tool, he controls it and reigns over it, though I find the concept of 'fate' and 'destiny', or anything like it to be like a fairy tale at best, and one with no truth in it.

He looked up at her once again, with a look brimming with cold, manipulative charisma. "Do I need to repeat myself?"

"Who would ever believe you?" Harmonia said, tone sour.

"Nopony has to believe me, and I don't anticipate it. All it takes is for doubt to be there. Little details build great things and little details will fell them too. To be among ponies at any shade of how they are at their worst is to be torn between surprise, revulsion, and no surprise at all, as everything is exposed. They're far quicker to turn against one another than you would think, and often betray themselves in the process."

Harmonia actually scowled at Sombra. "Harmony is lost on you, and virtue as well."

"I am beyond 'virtue'," Sombra scoffed. 

"How could any even trust you to keep your promises? Not all love you as deeply as young Luna Galaxia, if any love you at all."

Sombra cocked his head to the side, looking like for all the stars in the sky. Harmonia was just an ignorant fool, as a tourist often is, and she was inconveniencing and disgusting him. "I have a very nasty habit of keeping my promises."

Sighing, Harmonia gave her attention to the both of us, her milky eyes sweeping over us both. "Do you consider yourselves to be good ponies?"

"No," Sombra replied easily, though not without thought. He knew of the matters he spoke. "I'm not even a pony, so I certainly couldn't be good at being one."

"I do not consider myself to be good either," I reply carefully. "And it is not solely because of mistakes I have made or shall make. Mistakes do not go away, and neither do successes. I know that I do not think as one who is good does. My heart, as I am told and think, is quite pure, but it is not good. Like, Sombra I am not a pony, but I shall discount your usage of it. It is understandable. I think..." I pause thoughtfully, and look up at Harmonia. "I think that I can be rather selfish. If I was given a choice between good and right, I would choose the latter. I hope, too, that I have been doing so."

Harmonia looked unmoved, but that was not surprising. She made a faint tutting noise. "You are certainly not your mother's daughter, nor your father's. Celestia Galaxia too, from what I remember of her, is not like them. You only have your mother's night-touched eyes, Luna Galaxia."

"What a lovely sentiment," Sombra deadpanned, rolling his eyes. "Now would you get on with it?"

"Yes," I said, "Do get on with it."

"Do you consider yourselves to be evil individuals?"

"Not at all," I answered. "My mistakes may be great, and I can be unkind as well as a crybaby and... well, I am flawed. There is no perfection."

"Every time I look in the mirror, I see the closest thing to it," Sombra says earnestly, while nodding in agreement.

"Gods are not perfect. We never were, and never will be. There is no perfection in divinity other than what mortals have falsely attributed to it. I will continue to make mistakes, and I will continue to learn from them and better myself. No matter what, I am not evil. I am aware of myself and what I do. Even if all the world but Sombra, Celestia, and I were to declare that I was, it would not be. The majority - any majority - can say exactly what they please, but that does not make it true. The majority of creatures any where thinks that Sombra is evil, for example, but he is not."

Next to me, I felt Sombra kiss my cheek and whisper a short promise of more later. I avoided flushing and nudged him, for it was his turn to speak.

Hearing Sombra sigh, I braced myself for what he had to say.

"I'm very familiar with monsters, both real and imagined. I used to think I was one, and sometim-" Sombra cleared his throat loudly. "There's certainly good in the world regardless of whether I've witnessed it or met any who were good. However, good is largely inadequate. Evil certainly exists. There's a good deal more of that, but that label alone is laughable when whatever thoughts or actions are much more telling. I guess you could say it's the why, not the what."

I turned to look at Sombra. Me regaining confidence... and getting better... would take time. Sombra isn't a monster, and he never was. Helping him know otherwise would take time too. Where everpony else has failed, he and I could work alone and together. I knew we could.

Nuzzling his neck and leaning in close to him, I encouraged him to keep going.

"I don't align myself with either, and don't suspect I ever will," Sombra said with a small shrug and an almost bored tone.

"What are ponies?"

Sombra and I exchange curious looks with one another, and Sombra gives me a small nod; he'll be going first.

"Expendable," Sombra replies confidently, the trace of an easy smirk appearing momentarily.

I introduce a forehoof to my face and sigh. 

"Care to elaborate?" Harmonia says coldly, clearly not approving of his answer.

"Most ponies are expendable," Sombra says, flippantly blowing his bangs out of his face. "But I'm not about to going around demonstrating this. Just as glass is breakable, I don't go around smashing any bit of glass I see."

"You are fond of arson," I mutter, thinking of some of the more recent records of fires in Canterlot, which fit in a much different context now that I knew of one very fire-happy and unexpected resident.

Sombra quickly mumbles something I barely caught - something about arson and random, wanton acts of destruction being two different things before adding something to his previous remarks, tone suddenly far darker than before. "It would be stupid to deny that most ponies are in fact expendable, whether they ever know it or not that it isn't without consequences. Anything can have a price, but that doesn't mean it's worth paying."

Harmonia cleared a throat she did not have. "I was not asking that, you morbid mock-beast-"

Next to me, Sombra growled loudly and deeply than I had ever heard before, baring fangs and nodding to me before speaking quickly, through gritted teeth: "She's the only reason I haven't done anything more morbid to you, so I'd watch just what you say around me so I don't lose my temper."

Only Harmonia's mane and tail moved for a while. I shivered at how intimidating Sombra could be.

"...I was speaking of the previous questions on the nature of good and evil. What are ponies? Or, should I say, most ponies."

This time, I began. "Most ponies... why, they just follow their leader. It could be a god, the head of family, or a mentor. Anypony would work, I suppose, but most ponies would follow all the same. It is not loyalty, it is just pointless and unquestioned fealty. As a former Bearer of Loyalty, I know it when I witness it. To do that... it is not good or evil. It is an absence of anything, I would say. The blind are following the blind, sweeping all with them... and if the blind shall fall..." I conclude with a dramatic sigh and nudge Sombra, who wastes no chance in speaking.

"Most ponies aren't anything at all, and I don't mean to say that they're neutral in matters. They're blank. The absence of decisions and defining features... of reason and motive. It's nothing at all. There isn't any alignment. For generations, the 'mere mortal' hasn't vanished, they just were buried under better living conditions. Many would tell me otherwise if I said anything about it, and yet it's all quite plain: I've met plenty of ponies but few individuals. Ponies have a strange fondness for dooming themselves."

Harmonia silently regarded Sombra for a long time, and the night wore on with a silent fury as winds tore across the sky.

"As blunt as you are, you are not wrong," she says to him. "Ponies and other creatures will believe all sorts of things. Demigods and great sorcerers - and even more - coming from just anywhere? Nay, that is impossible. Almost anywhere, maybe, but never just anywhere. There are those without even a seed of possibility for greatness. A demon as a god - and even an immortal - would have been thought of as an impossibility. Mortal Element Bearers? That would be nearing heresy. The original six were thought to be eternal... and I imagine the Galaxia Sisters too, were thought to have an eternal connection."

"So you finally admit it," Sombra said, smiling with all the arrogance I loved.

I frowned when she made no effort to acknowledge what Sombra said - and yet, in doing so only proved him to be correct by demonstrating that she had been backed into a sort of corner.

"You two are the most dangerous not because you are evil and need to be stopped, or good and able to win the hearts of many, nor are you dangerous because you have chosen to follow and do nothing at all."

I curled my wing tighter around Sombra in a protective gesture and looked Harmonia over. Just what is it she was trying to say?

"You are not a combination of the first two, but a third in between that I cannot say this world knows much of... only in small shades perhaps. In actions, undoubtedly, but not in entire individuals... and as constantly. This is what makes you both great and terrifying, but I see that the God of Knowledge already had some idea of this."

I slowly let my gaze travel over to see Sombra's expression, which is stoic. Only his eyes tell what he feels, and I see nothing but ambition, deep thought, and even wonder there.

"Arguably, we're above and beyond it all," he whispers to me. Sombra's eyes didn't move; he didn't even shift, he simply sensed me watching him.

Harmonia didn't hear him, but to say she wasn't suspicious of what he might have said... it would be foolish.
We watched as her horn glowed with light too soft for me to even make out the color that pulsed there - and in what would have been the pocket of shimmering aura, a yellow gem appeared. It was shaped like a seed and reminded me of daffodils dotting a field. I couldn't help but admire it. Jewels were not something I held in high favor, but this one was rather beautiful.

Sombra seemed more focused on how shiny it was, with light bouncing off it in so many ways and creating such an array of colors. Even I had never seen ones quite like that before, at least, none so beautiful...

"I am done here," Harmonia said calmly, "and have slumber to return to. Waking and manifesting even this long... it is something I have not done in over nine thousand years, if my count remains true. Perhaps I might sleep on it? Either way, I bestow upon you this Boon. You two need only agree upon a destination, and when you wish to go, and once you activate it with your magic, it shall take you there."

She carefully floated it over to me, and I accepted it in my magic while Sombra quietly admired the sparkles with wide eyes. The gem was like the monarch's orb, only smaller, and it fit in my hoof with ease, the facets glittering in tonight's starlight.

"Thank you," I said, and as always, I meant it and was honest in my words.

Sombra shot Harmonia a judgemental and challenging look, though most of his malice had evaporated. "You'll see us again."

Harmonia inclined her head once more, the soul-wisps around us glowing brighter as the colorful form of the spirit dimmed, until it was only by the light of those wisps and her bright eyes, that she was glimpsed most easily. "I shall, but it will most likely be between blinks. The two of you have been the most... intriguing entities that I have witnessed. What become of the unholy union of a goddess and a demon? Even I am not entirely informed, despite all my power. It is a blurry future, as far as I can see. With time, and the untangling of a few roots, it may clear. Until then, Sombra and Luna Galaxia, I bid you farewell."

Sombra groaned and brought a hoof to his face, and proceeded to make a series of rather loud disgruntled demon noises in his throat. "For the last time, Luna and I aren't married!" His tone too, had come out like a growl, and a loud one at that.

"...perhaps not yet," whispered the last of what lingered of Harmonia's voice, which was all but drowned out by the growls of Sombra. I had to prick my ears carefully to catch it. Sombra's following eye roll told me that he had not heard what I did.

Married? To Sombra? The thought made my heart skip a bit. If that is a possible future... it is one that I would love to work toward, if Sombra would have me.

I smiled a small smile to myself. The work we would have to do! Why, I still have a hard time believing that we are together... but to wed him? Time will only tell, and it certainly isn't an impossibility.

Together, Sombra and I watched as the small, nearly transparent presence of magic that was Harmonia, stirred the purple soul-wisps as she soared upward, rising with a column of growing orbs of light behind her, and dappling with the sky with them before her temporary form would fade.

We looked up at the stars from the bare cloud that we drifted upon in a midnight world, and there was a tree that was almost uncannily like something I might see in the astral projection that I used to navigate the dreaming world.

Sombra gasped softly, and I drew him in tighter, while his eyes were still upon such a magical, whimsical sight, and kissed him on our little sky island, far below the shimmering branches. He certainly did not mind that his eyes no longer saw our world's newest addition, a tree of souls, or all that remained of them. Much of my family was among them.

I felt his forehoof carefully brush away a few tears I hadn't known had escaped my eyes.

The Pantheon awaited us, but first there was Cady and Shiny in Canterlot, and the former to pick up for our next little trip.

But for now, I was very preoccupied with the present, and all it entailed. The possibility and hope of so many futures had been restored. The present wasn't the future. It was rather obvious.

The present was wrapping Sombra in a hug under the stars above, Nova's tree glittering new and proud above us as I swept him into a kiss. A promise; one that we'd see each other again. One that we'd linger here a little longer.

Please?

I felt Sombra' hug tighten. Even if I were able to say anything, I had no need to. Sombra was a good listener.




...




Within the fluffy depths of the puffy cloud I was upon, a creature lay among the soft white, dappled silver by the light of the moon, whose beams shone gently on the surface, almost as though the dark coated creature was to be ignored, as a shadow would be.

The creature's fuzzy belly scraped the smooth, plush whorls of cloud as they lay, crouched and waiting to pounce. Two intelligent eyes focused on the gleaming gem that I had grasped tightly within my magic. Two attentive ears flicked at the slightest sound, and the shadowy entity that was almost totally still among the pale cloudscape used only their eyes to track my movement and the slightest change in light, enthralled by the speckles of gentle, colorful light that swept across each surface.

"Sombra," I said, breaking the silence. "I am afraid you cannot play with our ticket to Canterlot, but when all is settled, I promise I shall obtain a shiny trinket for you as a special gift. It is the least I can do after all you have done for me."

Sighing with obvious disappointment, Sombra rose and walked over to me. His eyes were still on the magical trinket. It must have radiated something that he found rather pleasant, or at least intriguing. Being from Harmonia, I think that it would likely be light magic, so he might just find the sparkles nice.

Soon, I was accepting a nuzzle from him before he withdrew, stepping back until there was a small distance between us. It must be light magic then, or something that makes him dizzy. I will have to ask him before we leave.

"Some trip, huh?" Sombra remarked, crimson eyes looking up at the sky's newest addition.

"Indeed."

"So, what's after this, Luna? Any plans?"

His nonchalant tone was oddly enrapturing. I found myself humming softly - and all little nonsensical, incomplete things - along with him. Or perhaps just because it sounded nice with his voice. Either would do.

"I do have my royal duties. They'll no doubt be greater after my vanishing act this summer."

"It's almost summer," Sombra pointed out, and still neither of us looked at one another. The stars had our undivided attention and we stood parallel and next to one another.

"It is," I said softly. One year with Sombra... and I still wanted more, for if all this had been one year, what would one decade be? One century? Glorious, I would think. "What about you? Are there any plans?"

"I do have a job... not a demanding one, you know, but I'll have a fair bit to explain, demon god or not." He smirked. "I'm probably going to be ditching it for the rest of the summer. Won't be too hard to get a new one if needed. Pulling strings isn't exactly hard for me. You doing anything else? I know that you of all ponies won't be busy with royal duties constantly."

Well... "Sombra-" 

"Are you going to ignore me after all this, then?" he said teasingly. "I'm hurt. Truly. Didn't we have more than that?"

"O-Of course," I said, giggling despite myself. "I would love to see you... we are dating, I-I think. Should I ask Cady? She would know, but, Sombra, I am quite sure that we are since our time in Germaneigh... you see... and... well... do you, maybe..."

No, no! I cannot falter now! Just gather your thoughts, Luna!

"Do I what?" Sombra said, finally facing me, head tilted to the side and bangs in his eyes. A cocky smirk graced his muzzle and I wanted to hug his silly fuzzy face and tell him just how charming and silly the look he was giving me was.

"Do you want to... do," I paused and swallowed, "an activity together?"

He laughed again, and I loved it. Does anypony else know how wonderful his laugh is? Have they even heard it? Well, the answer to the second is quite obvious, and oh, I think my stomach is in knots...

"Is this how you ask the Right-Honourable Lord Sombra out on a date?" He tossed his mane out of his eyes dramatically, and it fell right back into place, of course. "Not even a half-assed pick-up line? I expected at least an attempt here, not 'do an activity together'. Do you honestly that is a proper request for one as great and egotistical as myself? You seek to wound my indomitable pride, don't you?"

I held a forehoof to my mouth, but a fit of giggles had long since escaped me and I couldn't stop. There had never been anypony I found quite this funny before! Nopony that was not a long-dead poet, clever playwright, or philosopher whose wry remarks all paled in comparison to my Sombra's snark.

Sombra had stepped forward to nuzzle me again, his tone as warm as his fur, but never without his wit. "I'd love to go out with you. Any idea of when you'll be free?"

"No," I said softly, "You live on the mountain, only a bit farther up than the city, correct?"

"Yes," Sombra says, continuing to nuzzle my cheek when he's not whispering in my ear. "I'll be restoring my pocket realm. Celestia doesn't know where I live, so I'd appreciate you not telling her, but you're welcome any time, but if I sleep, it's usually during the day. I'm usually in the city during the night hours, so you can find me there, if you know where to look. I can always find you as well."

I watch our reflections in the gem's facets. Do I really look so smitten? 

"That sounds lovely, Sombra. There's so many things I want us to do!"

Sombra chuckled warmly. "Tell me about it. Do you have any particular idea to what you want to do or...?"

I smile mischievously. "You are exceptional when it comes to disguises..."

"Only with disguises?" Sombra raises an eyebrow. "You're relentless in your slander against me."

I tried to stop giggling, I swear that I really did. "We could go see a play. They're so much fun! And I did practically promise you that I would take you to see one, didn't I?"

Sombra's nuzzling stopped and his smile faltered; a thoughtful look emerged instead. "You did, but don't you think that it would be best to stay out of the public eye as much as possible? I may not have ever been to one, but the theatres and playhouses of Canterlot are prominent and full of ponies that have a very unfortunate habit of talking more than usual."

"Socialites."

"Socialites," Sombra agreed.

"Did you happen to have an idea?"

Sombra nodded. "You've got a sweet tooth."

"I do," I admit, smiling.

"Do you like sorbet?" he asks, nuzzling me again, as if that was the best way to get an answer from me.

My eyes widened and I looked at Sombra, rather confused. "You like sorbet?"

He nodded once more. "When I lived out in the desert, I'd eat it when I had the chance. There's all sorts of weird things out there. I don't like sweet foods, but that's the exception. There's a couple places in Canterlot that have it - Saddle Arabian eateries. Would you mind going to a place like that with me?"

Laughing, I threw my forehooves around his neck and planted one big kiss on his cheek. Harmonia's gift was safely tucked under my wing and I had no worries that I would drop it. "Of course! Your company is always wonderful, no matter the location."

He smirked and tapped his muzzle against mine briefly. "Well, I suppose that means you'll be just as big of a pizza freak as I am soon."

It was my turn to roll my eyes. "Stars only know, Sombra... and did you really just call yourself a 'pizza freak'?"

Sombra almost glowered at me. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"...N-No."

He eyes me warily. "Good. Now, we should probably getting going. To Canterlot?"

"Aye, Canterlot. Cady and my father await us."

"And the Pantheon from there," Sombra said, prying one of my forelegs off of him. I almost pouted. I wanted the hug to last longer. I didn't bruise his ribs this time, and surely that is an improvement?

"So... nothing you want to add before we go?" There was that sly smirk and eyebrow raise again.

My brow furrows. "Did we forget something?"

His gaze directly meets mine, and Sombra watches me with a level, enigmatic stare. "You could say that. We could still spare a few minutes, couldn't we?"

I nod. It certainly didn't seem to be a bad idea, to tarry a little longer, and around us - I looked up at the stars for a moment. Dare I say it was a stellar sight? 

"Well Sombra, I suppose we could. What exactly did we forget?"

Sombra took a moment to roll his eyes playfully, before smiling. 

He leaned into the kiss first.















"Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing,
there is a field. I'll meet you there." --Rumi



> Chapter 53: The Rogue Gods
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Sombra:


The eternal twilight of Paradise washes over me as I lean against on of the Pantheon's columns. The light of this world's frozen sun and moon travels through the ever-clear sky without trouble. No stars or clouds ever dotted the sky.

I tugged at my hood, which was up, and boredly blew a bit of my mane out of my face and continued to watch the sight before me. When Luna, myself, and the others had arrived it had been an uproar. I made myself known and slipped away after Celestia threatened to reduce me to ash on the spot for 'abducting' her sister. All the others present were instantly suspicious of me. I was faced with hostile looks, unsubtle gestures, and slander because of my nature as a demon.

And it was Luna, who boldly and stubbornly stepped between all this before anypony else could react.

She told them all that I was the newest god, and there were shouts of anger. She told them that the world is safe because of me, and there were shouts of disbelief, but fewer than before. She told everypony standing there how I was the God of Knowledge, and the few who I saw keep silent were the most afraid among the outbursts.

Before she could tell everypony that she loved me - what these beings would see as the greatest 'crime', I suppose - Luna was swept into a clamped and constricting hug from her sister, who looked like shit. Her sparkling mane was in partial disarray and the cosmetics she applied to only drew attention to the fatigue poking through the applied coats of this and that. It only made her appear like plaster fell from her - and a plaster only I saw. Luna had been squashed in the tight and uncomfortable looking hug, so she couldn't see. I saw how smudged the eyeliner and mascara were from Celestia's crying as she had tightened her possessive hold on her 'baby sister'.

From there, Twinklebutt had become the focus of everypony's laughs and tears, as well as Celestia's aversion. Older gods crowded around him with their cacophony of words, and in that throng, where Luna spoke to the remnants of the gods and directed those who falsely thought themselves her superiors, Celestia and I slipped away. I caught the draconequus Discord near the fringes of the crowd, saying something to a distracted Indigo Imbecile and Mac, who was trying to listen to everything.

My reasons are obvious. I didn't care or need to hear everything in detail or be plunged into any of that.

Celestia was actually on my mind for many reasons. She wasn't one to stray from crowds. She wasn't one to shirk an opportunity to run her mouth. She wanted to be the serene centerpiece, socializing pointlessly with anypony, and I saw her slip to another area of the Pantheon's floating pavilion in silence, her rigid and disgustingly regal facade never faltering as she waited.

Maybe she knew that I saw her too, but I doubt that. Celestia is a lot of things, but I know better than to include 'observant' as one of her qualities.

Currently, everypony was listening to the extroverted Twinklebutt speak as he spoke: an orator and a king. Maybe he was a king before he was Twinklebutt. Most are.

I don't blame Luna for listening. She meant something to him and I wasn't going to tear her away from him. He wasn't hurting her. I saw how she watched her father speak with a semicircle of the remaining divine around him, all surveyed by me from a distance. There was respect in her eyes for a being I didn't think should have it.

Among the faces of everypony else, it was impossible for me not to see her first. She stood out more than anypony, listening to Twinklebutt spin what his plans for his life now were, only now it was delivered with the charisma and tempered faux optimism and blithe assurance of a politician that I had to roll my eyes at. I was just hearing him exchange questions and answers with the other gods and announcing to the small crowd what he told Luna and I on Pink Sunset, with an assurance that wasn't genuine in inspiring, just tailored with every stitch and seam in plain view to me.

I turned and looked off to the blurry realm of Paradise stretched far below. Verdant valleys, winding rivers, vast plains, dense woods, and misty mountains with more beyond them were below me, stretching as far as I could see. Here, I was as far above the land divided only by the vast chasm that hid a portal to Tartarus as Luna and I were when we spoke to the Tree of Harmony, and I was still able to see the gleam of Paradise Estate, the queen's castle, and the shining sprawls of villas dotting the land caught between romantic and rugged forever.

I judged the world and then spat, watching it fall.

"How crude of you, demon," a familiar voice droned.

"Can it, Fishcakes," I grumbled, giving 'Neptune' a glare that oozed grumpiness, as though my nonchalant indifference and gruff tone weren't clue enough.

Fishcakes scowl twitched and he appeared somewhere between aghast and disgusted. "And if I do not?"

"Fight me."

He swallowed and his mane rippled agitation. "...I would rather not. For various reasons. As an immortal demon you were... unpredictable," he said with a politician's disgusted attempt at delicacy, "but as a demon god... you are quite frightening."

I sized him up again. Nothing about him was any different than when I saw him months ago. He doesn't look at me directly, but watches the space above my head impassively.

I tilt my head to the side slightly and more of my mane spills out from my hood. "What do you want?" I demanded. "I'm not stupid and I can see past all your faux regality. Honestly, when did charisma become the watered down and artificial mess that you're really trying to shove on me and think that I'll be falling for."

Fishcake's upper lip curled up slightly. "While you are not a simple creature, I think that it's quite plain that you were... confused, I think would be an excellent way to put it... to fall for my cousin."

My posture instantly draws into something imposing enough to make Fishcakes flinch and I glower at him until he shudders, bowing his head visibly when he sees my irises flash red under my hood.

"What did you just say?" I say with a thick, unexpected growl that causes Fishcake to bite his lip while I stand, radiating a menacing feeling from my place in the shadows.

"I-I... forget it. Are you always so horrifying?" he asks honestly, quickly looking away. "You feel diff- no, no. Everything would be better if you felt different. Instead, you feel more like yourself than ever. Don't you think that's terrifying? That you can't simply try to be like anypony else in one way or another? Cousin Luna is quite queer - in manner, at least - but there seems to be something-"

"Be quiet," I snapped angrily, "Unless, of course, you actually plan to disclose why you're talking to me. I know you have a reason."

Fishcakes sighed. "...This is why I wish you were a simple creature. I am here to tell you that as annoying as I find both my cousins, I haven't seen Luna with such happiness, as quiet as it is right now. I do loathe you-"

"Subtle."

"...And your mannerisms, really almost anything about you... except... by making Luna so distracted and... how you destroyed-"

"Spit it out already."

"Thank you," he spat, with some venom still in his tone. "Thank you for ensuring this world will last when I-"

"Was too much of a coward to do anything?" I offered.

"...Yes. I never thought I'd see my uncle again either. At least he's less of a stranger than his daughters. I think that I shall resume speaking with him for purposes other than professional correspondence."

"That's nice," I said flatly. "You can leave now."

Fishcakes sniffed and looked down at me, puffing out his chest a bit and snorting. "Did you really just-?"

"You will leave now," I corrected, lighting my horn with crimson aura in a clear threat and running my tongue over my disguised fangs.

I didn't need to repeat myself.



...



"...We can only thank Our daughter Luna and her companion for enabling Us to see you all again, Our friends and allies. We are all that is left of a fine population. Our world is a fledgling that We must know again, but first We must re-address that We do not feel like the same Alicorn. We must heal and We must learn to be Us again."

From my corner of the Pantheon, I angle a metal-clad forehoof toward my mouth in an obvious, exaggerated gagging motion. The dolt couldn't mention my name throughout his entire oration? Is he really going to keep styling my stunning Luna as something as lowly as the delusion of being a hero and just write me... oh, who am I kidding? Of course he is! Would it kill anypony to just do a little bit of anything to suggest that they're worthy of decent expectations? I expected Celestia's purple wretch to at least demonstrate a slightly intelligent thought process, but this is ridiculous.

Me, a silly sidekick. An unnamed footnote. The day I get even a quarter-way honest portrayal in any story or gossip... well, that'll be something. Maybe in a few million years. It's certainly not like I can't wait. How hard is it to admit that I'm asshole, but at least one that knows what he's doing? Ponies.

I watch Luna raise a forehoof to hide a smile when she sees what I'm doing, her eyes lit up with laughter that glitters in them while she half-listens to her father's filibuster.

Seeing her impish expression, Fishcakes, who's nearby, follows her eyes and shoots me mortified look. Next to him, Purple Eyesore, who stands in his shadow, actually notices something, and gives me a quick, fearful look before returning her attention to Twinklebutt.

From the fringes of the small group, I see Celestia give me a sharp, disapproving glance.

A presence of magic that I could never mistake drifts nearby. The sound of a muffled giggle reaches my ears after the light, warm, and flighty but pure feel of her magic.

"Uncle Sombra, did you really just do that?"

I nod and turn to look at Mac while Twinklebutt finishes up his speech, rambling on about how he'll be living on the Sage's Isle until he's ready for the world... and the world for him. 

"...Though We may be living like a hermit for centuries or a few millennia, all depending on what is required, We will not cut out the world entirely. The Sages have never failed to provide assistance, no matter who lives on the island. We will be honored to keep the company of such extraordinary mortals."

I caught Celestia shoot Luna a cool 'talk later' look, and Luna nod in quiet acknowledgement. Nopony else noticed. The look was sisterly enough, but professional, at least on Celestia's end. I'll certainly be talking with Luna later, with all this happening and Celestia around, I want to make sure she's alright. Maybe this isn't too much to process for her, but for everypony else, that's not the case. Luna's not a recluse like I am, she's going to have to deal with these fools.

"We are even more honored," Twinklebutt began while I rolled my eyes and held up a forehoof to the waiting Pink One, letting her know that she'd have to wait a bit longer until I heard the end of this, "that all of you still wish to have Us as your king among kings, even after this tragedy that has shattered the world and left us inhabiting a shadow... a shadow that Our own foals have had to grow up in. While We cannot properly express Our gratitude here and now, We must also address the matter of Our co-ruler: We shall not take up a close consort or bride again. Lumina - her soul now within Nova's Tree, our sky's newest feature - is... was like no other. We want no more of love like that if it is n-not hers. Instead, We would like to take up Our trusted ally, Elysium, as High Queen."

Luna and the other gods started talking among themselves. Since they now spoke in quickly exchanged murmurs, I couldn't make out what they were saying beyond being able to catch small bits and pieces, as well as see signs of a general consensus among them.

With that done, I turned to face Mac. She'd cleaned up her new manecut a bit. It still curled at the end, but she no longer had a thick mess of curls that I never quite figured out how she managed. Her regalia was present and she was smiling broadly. A tankard suiting the rest of the place was grasped in one of her forehooves, filled with the liquid I was unable to identify on my last visit here - the one that looked like a liquefied supernova.

That wouldn't be the case this time. I quickly smacked the tankard out of hoof roughly enough to make her yelp.

"Uncle Sombra, what was that for?!" she exclaimed, wide-eyed and recoiling. 

"Do you have any idea what that is?" I hissed, making sure I had as little attention drawn to myself right now as I possibly could. Currently, it would be unwanted and I wasn't about to waste time explaining myself to just anypony milling about.

Only Luna looked in my direction, but none of the other gods and others milling about paid attention. Their attention was on the draconequus attempting to entertain or annoy the crowd with magic tricks. I didn't care which one.

"It's the drink of the gods, yo," Mac said, visibly confused. "A free alcoholic beverage from the gods themselves. How could I refuse?"

I stared at her coldly. "Ambrosia is not genuinely alcoholic, but the effect it has is similar. Do you know what else it can do?"

"No," she said, shaking her head and looking at me with an expression best described as naive. "What?"

"It makes mortals burn from within," I deadpanned. "Literally."

Her eyes widened again. "O-Oh," she stammered. "Thanks for the save there. So how goes it, eh?"

I shrugged as an answer and resumed looking grumpy and indifferent. "You?"

"Pretty good!" she smiles. "Canterlot was hectic - you and Luna should be glad you just dropped by - but I'm really looking forward to heading home... there's been so much happening, but I just want to see the Crystal Empire again. Adventures aren't for me. I want to settle down."

"I'm certainly not going to stop you. Mac, you really aren't the type for adventure. For me it wasn't hard to see that."

She stared at the tankard on the floor. "Did you know from the start... when we first met?"

I nodded. "I knew that you weren't going to take to the life of unexpected adventure."

"Not like Luna and you," she whispered forlornly. "You two... it's hard to believe that Aunt Luna's a princess because when I think of everything that she is 'princess' just seems to be the least of them... and you... the world almost seems like it was made for you to play weirdo rogue in. Just how do you do it? How do you forget ponies without really forgetting them? Does that make sense?"

"Yes, Mac it does make sense. I've been around long enough to understand more than a few things. As to how I do it? Trade secret," I said with a smirk.

Mac giggled a little. "You're actually really nice, you know that? I'm sorry I ever thought you weren't."

"Mac, it isn't a problem any longer. You've still neglected to tell the Right-Honourable Lord Sombra your plans now that you still have a world to live in."

A small smile spread across her muzzle. "Oh, y'know. Princess stuff. I'm going to be sure to visit Canterlot as much as I can now."

"To see Luna?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "I'm aware that you and her have been friends for some time."

Whatever she thinks I meant by that certainly isn't what I intended for her to infer. She backed away a few steps and her magical presence flared up around me, prickling my coat, invisible to everypony else.

"Sombra, listen, I know you're the mysterious, possessive type-"

"I'm actually not."

"-but Luna and I are just friends, I swear!" She shifts nervously.

"I believe you."

"Gods, Sombra our friendship was what made me think you would have a chance with her when you told me that it was her you had your eyes on." Mac gulps and looks away from my quiet, observant stare.

"I figured as much."

"Everything between us is completely platonic! You don't have to get mad! Please, don't get mad, we're just friends! I don't even like mares, and I'm married."

"I'm glad she has a friend like you."

Mac looks at me, what I just said finally registering now that her nervous outburst has ended "Wait, you don't think that-"

"I don't. You will visit Luna, won't you? I'm not going to be welcome at the castle, but I know you will be."

Mac opened her mouth and then closed it. "Wha...?"

I rolled my eyes and gave an annoyed sigh. "Mac, I know you aren't that dense! Just visit her, will you? Do you know how little effort it takes to understand that you should keep in touch with her? I want her to talk to you because I know that she trusts you and that you've made her happy. I trust you around her too."

She nodded. Slowly. I facehoofed and waited for her to comprehend what I just said.

"That's so sweet of you, Sombra... and you're about as sweet as the lovechild of black licorice and lemons!"

"Lovely sentiment there, Mac," I muttered.

"Have you asked her out yet? Have you?" She bounced on her hooves and looked at me with a wide, almost hyper smile and a cheerful gleam in her eyes. Her curls bounced with her and she rustled her feathers with excitement.

"She asked me, but yes, we have a date planned."

I was met with a tight pink embrace crashing into me, only to find me unyielding as a steel wall, braced for her actions, and unsurprised. I've seen undertakers that are jollier than I am right now.

"OH MY GODS YOU TWO ARE OFFICIALLY GOING OUT! I COULD JUST DIE!"

"At this point, I honestly wouldn't mind if you did," I mumbled into pink feathers and giving her a sharp look that she couldn't see. Just because I let her hug me once doesn't mean I want her to do it again. I shudder slightly and my posture becomes no less rigid.

Even with this pink tumor of a friend clinging to me, I still radiate antisocial, disgruntled disapproval. For everything.

"WHEN'S THE WEDDING, EH?"

"Oh, be quiet."

She made a series of high pitched squeals while I gritted my teeth and contemplated the relaxing nature of arson. Then, I just shoved her off me. Hard. 

"Cut that out. Luna and I are officially dating. You'll be visiting Canterlot. Anything else I should know?"

Almost though I had given her a definite invitation instead of a partial suggestion to speak, Mac smiled conversationally and chattered on. "Sure!" she chirped, "I wanted to know if you would be alright if I visited... whatever part of the mountain you're going to living at."

"I will be residing where we last met for my birthday." The word was still as foreign as ever when I said it, and any emphasis that I put on it was entirely unintentional, as was the slight disdain in my tone. I don't exactly plan on having any more 'birthdays' but I don't hold a specific hatred for them. "Could you tell Luna where it is in case she doesn't know? I wouldn't mind if you dropped by from time to time, just write first. Don't expect me to let you in my pocket realm either. I won't. Tell nopony else where I live, or do I need to remind you that you have sold me your future child?"

"No reminders needed!" she said, nodding dutifully and facing me like an inferior cadet does a superior officer. 

I was certainly pleased with the behavior and let the left corner of my mouth curl into a faint smile. "Who knows? I might even look forward to seeing you. I'll be spending most of my time with Luna and off on other endeavors - some will be in the area, others outside of Canterlot - but I can certainly spend time with you too."

Pawing at the ground, Mac smiled bashfully. "Aww, that's certainly going to be something to look forward to. Is there anything in particular you'd want to do?"

"If you're going to be hanging out with Luna and I at times, you're going to have to learn more about magic. I will be willing to teach you about dark magic and a couple other things you might find use in. As moody as Luna and I are, when it comes to magic, philosophy, and weaponry - really anything like that - we've got you-"

"Schooled!" Mac finished with a chipper hop.

I rolled my eyes and reminded myself that if any communication was to happen between the three of us, Luna would need to brush up on modern language just a little bit more... oh, and I would certainly see if I could sneak a few calculus lessons in there for her. She's bound to try and fit in attempts to familiarize me with poetry. I'm not entirely unwilling. If I learn more verse than the little I'm familiar with right now, she's going to learn something about higher mathematics.

"Do you like movies?" Pink One asks curiously, reaching out a forehoof to tap my wither.

I slap it away before it nears me. "I'm aware of them, but only so much, and I've never seen one. They certainly seemed like something I was considering taking Luna out to at some point in the future, but it would be in disguise."

Mac's smile grew wider. "That's a great idea! I've taken auntie to see them before. She loves adventures and anything witty or dramatic... just as long as it doesn't have romance in it that much, which makes me sad. I still think she's annoyed with me for my attempts to get her into romance novels."

"Your romance novels are trash. Even the Replicating Spell thought so."

Mac's jaw dropped. "My romance novels are terrible? I'm a connoisseur of romance novels, Sombra. Those weren't the best that I owned, but none of those were trash. You want trash? Shiny's taste in movies certainly needs work. We may both love action movies and I love comedies of all kinds but Shiny..." She took a deep breath. Whatever she was about to say next would be difficult, at least for her. I just grew more visibly unamused.

"...Shiny unironically likes the really bad romantic comedies, anything about surfing, and don't even get me started on the sports movies." She sniffled. "He's wonderful enough to appreciate The Termineightor with me but..." Instead of finishing, Mac trailed off and looked at me pleadingly.

The look I returned was unsympathetic. "I wouldn't mind seeing a movie with you. I'd be in disguise, but I'd go."

"I'd buy you pizza."

"Then my presence is inevitable." With nopony else paying any attention to us, I swivel my ears closer to her, but not close enough that I can't act if the echoes of multiple conversations turn into something else. Mac getting her hoof on a tankard of ambrosia means that some of the other divine will be drinking it as well. Unfortunately, I have a feeling that Indigo Ignoramus won't be drinking any. I find drunken ponies obnoxious. Ponies that are violent enough to prove capable of harming me when intoxicated frighten me. A god that's intoxicated isn't something I want to stick around to see, if they're too hostile. Anypony else I would be pleased to laugh at.

Mac is laughing again. "You really are something else."

"Tell me about it," I muttered, smirking crookedly. It didn't last, my expression slipped back to being aloof easily. "Is there anything else on your mind?"

She grinned ecstatically, curls falling around her face innocently, which made it hard to see the faint bags under her eyes. "What kind of music do you like?" 

Without entirely diverting my gaze from her face, I watched her sway on her forehooves. "I've never really been exposed to it, unless you count examining sheet music, ancient ballads, and battle songs. My work leads me to have to frequent nightclubs from time to time. I wouldn't call what plays in those 'music' so much as an exceptionally loud bass."

Snorting, Mac nodded vigorously. "Too true! Most places in Canterlot can afford to have better taste. What you're describing sounds... Las Pegasus or Manehatten-style clubs. Urban stuff is never going to catch on."

"I'm aware."

"Other than that, you've never heard music?" Her eyes widened with something between sadness and even a bit of fear.

"I have heard some simple propaganda songs against the King," I mumbled, watching her expression change to something a little more serious.

"Oh, I'm sorry... they sang those after the Heart... and I might've..." She didn't finish. Mac hung her head and kicked at the ground.

Despite my cold, piercing stare, I tugged her head up with my magic - not enough to hurt her, but admittedly I did so a bit roughly.

"Mac," I said levelly, "I hate those more than I will ever articulate to you, but I'm not mad at you. Do you think that you're the only one who has initially feared and distrusted me and grown past that?"

"Luna," she said softly, in understanding.

The look I gave her was confirmation enough. "Don't worry, I'm used to it. Now, what were you saying about music? I'm actually curious to hear what it is that you had to say."

Her expression brightened quickly. "You've never heard much music, eh?"

"No," I repeated, adjusting Fate's sheath using my magic without looking away.

She almost smirked, so I knew something was up, and my ears perked up. I cocked my head to the side. Before I could stop it, a faint trill sounded in my throat. Thankfully, the noise of conversation nearby drowned out the sound, so Pink One didn't hear anything.

"You should totally come to a concert with me! Shiny's never having any fun at them and I can always get you a ticket without much trouble, it's a perk of being a princess!" Mac grinned at me, almost jumping in place as she waited for an answer.

I looked at her up and down, betraying nothing. "Sure."

Her smile managed to grow wider. "You'll love 'em, I promise!"

"I'm thrilled," I mumbled.

"I mean, I swear that you're a Nine Inch Tails fan just waiting to happen! Or maybe you're a psychedelia kinda stallion...?"

"We'll see about that." I roll my eyes at the name. This will certainly be something to get used to.

"...I might be wrong, but that's not likely. I can match ponies with bands just as easily as I can match them with one another."

"I'm certain your skill is unrivaled."

"I know, right?" She waves a forehoof to Luna in the background quickly.

"You've certainly been adapting well to my sarcasm."

"What?" She looks at me and blinks.

I give her a proper sarcastic clap. "Bravo, Pink One," I deadpan. 

Mac clicks her tongue and smiles with a giddy sheepishness before making a clumsy, but bold, attempt to hug me as a parting gesture. Without a change in expression, I sidestep her easily and watch her fall flat on her face, wings splayed loosely around her like she's a dead bird and short curls spilling onto the floor.

The last thing she says to me is to make a spitting sound in a futile attempt to communicate her pain.



...



"Oh no, you've finally caught me! I'm at an utter loss of what to do! Can't you just see me shaking in fear?"

The semicircle of gods around me stared on with varying degrees of attempts at looking unamused and stone faced. A few looked upon me with disgust. Only Luna and her sister were the exceptions: the former has a quiet, observant look and a neutral expression. She stared at me solemnly, but made no effort to hide how well she knew me from anypony else. I found warmth in her gaze that was absent from her sister's false calm.

"Is he really that foolish?" The socially awkward Reaper whose name I could care less about cocks her head to the side, but the gesture is pointless. Her mane never budged from obscuring her eyes, no matter how disheveled the messy black forelock was.

"I imagine he wishes us to think that he is, dear." Elysium's eyes flick to the Reaper and she wraps a wing around her. "But I really cannot say."

"He's tricking us. I'd never put it past a smug fellow like 'im." The King of Tartarus only looked at me for a moment. Like Elysium, Stolas had a name I didn't even care to work with. He wasn't worth it. "I've got an influx of three hundred and thirty seven demon souls in varying states cause of 'im. Umbra's among them, but the blasted Alicorn prince is gone."

"Thankfully," Elysium muttered solemnly. "Oblivion is a fitting end for Hasad. If only his sisters hadn't shared such a horrid fate."

Celestia stared at my hooves without speaking, but Luna's eyes never left me.

"What are demons even supposed to do?" an annoying voice chimed.

"Nothing right, Discord," Celestia said softly.

Discord looked at me like I was spoiled food and my stare burned back into him, flashing with anger. I was used to this treatment, and far worse.

I growled in her direction, and Discord, the Reaper, and Celestia flinched. With her demigod disciples hanging back, she had no entourage here. I caught Mac's stiffened posture and frozen eyes filled with nervousness. No matter how many times I told her I knew was doing - three times, to be exact - every flippant move on my part, like declaring myself anew, no matter how purposeful had her worried. This was not for me specifically, but close enough.

The purple wretch was twitchy, and for entirely different reasons. A notepad floated in her magic and she scribbled away.

Twinklebutt looked over to his co-ruler, who he stood next to, Stolas to his left. It was as far away from his daughters as he was likely to get. Celestia didn't look displeased by this - it was all directed to me. "Well, Ellie? What is your insight on Sombra?"

She looked at me coldly. "A god of knowledge... and a demon god, of all things. He's a murderer, Noctus."

"They all are," Luna's father said, purposely avoiding my gaze. "Can we really be surprised by that?"

Luna scowled in their direction. I know she was waiting to tell them. When her father looked back at her, startled by Luna's expression, Celestia draped a white wing over Luna in a way I couldn't brand as anything other than possessive. Luna wriggled free from it, but I swear she didn't see just what it was really like... the way those feathers touched her, like Celestia didn't ever want to let her go.

I growled too softly for anypony to hear.

"What are you going to do with Sombra?" Luna demanded. Her demeanor had shifted to something more proud and commanding. Every part of her held a natural strength that I knew she would handle without effort when she needed to. 

She walked away from the group with a stride that was both fluid and immovable. Her mane rippled defiantly, and I had to try and make it look like I wasn't staring. Luna placed herself at my side and held her head high. Even her forelock falling into her eyes made her look nothing short of brilliant.

I sidestepped closer to her discreetly and our withers brushed one another. I let everypony spot me and made a spectacle of myself - I knew this was coming, I only chose to take control of it and play everything I could... and still let everypony play themselves.

Her magic did not feel comforting as it it usually did. The word that came to mind was inspiring; this was I side to Luna I especially loved. This was just another incentive to being around her. Unlike everypony, her company was a reward in itself... and this was just one of many reasons to why. 

I would fight for her, and I would fight with her too.

I watched everypony through narrowed eyes. "Yes, I would suggest enlightening Luna on what it is you plan to do to me."

"How insolent," Stolas said, sneering.

"He often is," Fishcakes replied dully.

Twinklebutt cleared his throat and spoke above everypony. "That is not what we are here for. Sombra's insolence is known, and though he is a demon, he is... odd. Has there ever been a demon who has saved anything and maintained such an," his muzzle scrunched up in confusion, "independent nature?"

"No," chorused a few voices, Celestia's not among them.

I feel Luna inch closer to me. "He's a living creature just as you and I are, Father!"

Celestia looked like she was the first who wanted to object, and Twinklebutt did as well; I saw that he bit the inside of his cheek.

"...He is not like us," Twinklebutt said with forced tact, "but he is alive, and immortal. There are no creatures quite like the immortal, Sombra the Endling. He is equine, as we all know... but not as other living things are."

"Eat shit," I grumbled in his direction, only to be tapped lightly with Luna's feathers.

Twinklebutt blinked and continued. When he finds out about modern language, I can only imagine the disapproval that I'll be getting - oh no, I'm trembling just thinking about it.

"The final decision on what to do with Sombra will not be made until the voice of everypony is heard. However, We shall make this known: Sombra will live. His form, like ours, can be robbed from him, but none of that shall happen to him. He is going to live, no matter what is chosen. There will be no attempts to rob him of his form and delay his regeneration. Sombra, as much as everypony might disagree, is among the immortals just as that... draconequus is."

"Hey!" Discord protested. "I'll have you know that I am reformed!"

"...We see..." Twinkle said, tone lukewarm. "As We were saying: Sombra will not be - if We are to speak crudely, as mortals are wont to do - killed. He is a remarkable thing and shall not be handled so violently, nor will his mind be invaded or pried into. His memories shall go unread. Only the most vile demonic instruments would get anything close to that kind of treatment, and this one is not vile. No such harm shall come to it."

The 'instrument' in question was me.

I gritted my teeth.

Luna's wing tightened around me before I even needed to conceal my growing anger, though she kept the gesture to one of familiarity instead of love. Disgust, disapproval, and smothered mortification were shown all the same.

A thing.

...There's worse, I know... but...

I stifled a growl and folded my ears back partway - I wanted more of course - but signs of hostility were enough.

Twinklebutt kept going. "We understand that unlike demons of the past, Sombra is without ownership... and that is certainly odd to the point of being improper, but We shall not gripe about it so. If absolute authority were to be placed in Us, and Our way was to be had without question, ownership of Sombra would be given to my youngest daughter, Luna Galaxia."

I swallowed and paled, but the former was hidden. Leaning closer to Luna helped, and nopony noticed. Nopony other than Celestia who watched me with a clenched jaw, trying to piece things together and maintain that nearly seamless mask. Luna watched everypony else with the patient and narrowed gaze of an experienced soldier, daring anypony to do anything to suggest they'd attack me. Nothing here sat well with her either.

Fishcakes chimed in next. "I think it would be appropriate to transfer ownership of the demon over to somepony who can put it to proper use."

"You want him to be a slave," Luna said with a low voice that rumbled like distant thunder.

"Chattel, really," Fishcakes said with a shrug. "It's a very disobedient thing and having it adapt to order would be beneficial to all of us."

"And what about what Sombra wants?!" Luna cried.

Only Celestia looked on her sister with a hint of emotion. Twinklebutt's expression was a mask of patience. He's had conversations like this before, and his eyes told me what the rest of him tried to hide: the fates being tossed about were 'easy' ones compared to some of the things he's heard before.

Fishcakes froze. "...Luna, cousin, its a demon. The thing is not likely to have more than six basic emotions. You really shouldn't get too attached to it. If it has bonded with you already, it isn't likely to betray you. Giving it to Stolas for work would hardly be a bad choice. He's dealt with this thing's kind before, and could find proper use for such an instrument. That is all that I, Neptune Atlantia, have to say."

Luna trembled with anger that she hides not and I stay frozen in place, quick breaths caught in my chest while my stoic expression hides everything they'd never bother to look for. I try to restrict my memories of the Crystal Empire and every time this has happened before to all the darkest parts of my mind, where they crawl forth from.

It was like sand lapping at the shores of the Sage's Isle.

Eroding the sand with each coming wave.

...And leaving less...

...and less...

...and less...

...with each cycle.

It always gave less than it took, and as everything grew smaller and more trimmed with only deposited uncertainty to grow into-

My eye twitched.

All distance felt realized. These gods were steps away and my mind ran wild with all the ways to take them on as their magical presences twisted around me, like crooked shadows.

I hung back the second time I came here - at Pink One's invitation - for various reasons. One of those was because of how the magical presences of everypony mixed.

Fishcakes' paranoid and cluttered presence was touched with stagnation that could pass for calm right now. Living underwater gave his magic a different feel from the rest.

Twinklebutt felt like a bobbing light. His magic flitted around him, and I felt it quite clearly.

Luna's was fierce, stubborn, and protective with everything she was below the surface of that sensation. Her magic had stubbornly imprinted on me and mingled with how I felt, and I with hers. If another who could sense magic were present, they'd feel how she clung to me heavily now instead of in traces. I didn't mind. Her magical print lingering didn't bother me at all. I found it was harsh and less subtle now, but I rarely found it anything short of soothing. It never drowned out mine.

One of the reasons I wasn't teleporting away or shifting to shadow as my instincts screamed was because I could feel her magic, and tried to focus on it and cling to it to push panic away. It only worked so well, but it was enough. She knew, too and only stood prouder because of it.

Everypony felt the same. The way magic felt didn't change unless something drastic happened to the individual, and even then, they were always recognizable as themselves, unless dark magic was involved. Celestia felt as she always had, only compared to Luna and the other gods around us, she was subdued and weak.

Elysium's mouth was turned into a cold frown. Her magic was an indifferent, frosty, serenity that combined with her bright glow cut her apart from the others with a clear distinction that only Luna and I shared. The draconequus did too, but his was for different reasons.

"If it were not for the error of Celestia of Equestria, this demon would be dead, as things should have been. That is what would have been an acceptable fate for him - and the fate that he should have had. Instead, this creature has nearly scrambled destiny... and is now one of us, though his nature suggests otherwise. I am to understand that he has acquired his world as well?"

I nodded coldly, never taking my eyes off her, and my malicious silence continued.

Her frown lessened and she sighed. "Of course he does, otherwise he would have been an accidental immortal, not an accidental god. If it were left to me and me alone, I would suggest that he be given to one who could tame him. He is unpredictable and dangerous, worst and best of all, he's frighteningly intelligent. Can you not see how he stares at me? He should be used as seen fit and sworn into the Pantheon. So says Elysium."

The last look she gave me was cool and without any compassion - I didn't expect or want any of hers - but it was an acknowledgement: she thought that there was something honest about me, not that she'd ever admit it.

Stolas, whose magic felt frenzied mumbled something about Elysium stealing his idea before he coughed and gave her a dirty look.

She didn't even look at him and instead looked upon Twinklebutt again. "Noctus, I must inform you that Helena has bailed. She did so as soon as she heard that there would likely be a demon before us and that she cared not what happened to the creature so long as it was 'made to know that it was the greatest blight upon the world and given a taste of its own poison'. Her words, not mine."

Twinklebutt shook his head. "This position has never been anything but a joke to her. We suppose that the next to speak shall be... the draconequus. Discord, is your name, correct?"

There was a murmur of agreement from none other than Discord himself while I admired my reflection in a nearby pillar.

Draconequus magic is strange only in the sense that it feels childish. If the feeling of the messy room of a colorblind child who has fallen down staircases often and out a few windows for good measure can be translated into a sensation, then that is exactly what the draconequus feels like.

I gave him a stare that let him know I found his existence questionable. He was a creature made up of scrambled anatomy and had the maturity of a prepubescent foal land I'm the one getting all the strange looks? Now, that is criminal.

The draconequus strokes his bread with a claw and lazily points a paw in my direction. "We want him to join the God Squad?"

Twinklebutt blinked. "That is not what this is called."

He was ignored, and the draconequus pointed his claw at me. "He looks boring!"

What.

Celestia's composure slipped just enough for a stifled snort to escape her.

I looked between the two.

Those two.

"Just look how grumpy he looks! This guy's not going to be any fun ever!"

A goddess with an entire forest up her ass instead of a single stick, the strictest morals and narrowest mind, and love of all things dull... and an unpredictable and obnoxious mad lib of body parts that likely has an attention disorder.

"Do you think he even brushes his mane?" His accusing claw is still jabbed at me and I have the urge to smack it away.

Damn, she must be getting desperate.

"What's up with his horn? It looks like a chili pepper!"

I want to break every single one of his fingers and cram them down his throat.

"It doesn't," Luna whispers to me. "He's simply never seen a demon before."

"Really? That was going to be my third guess," I whisper back.

"Only your third? You must be losing your touch."

I glare at her, slack jawed. "...Maybe it's your horn that looks like a chili pepper."

Luna covers her open mouth with a forehoof and looks at me with wide, shining eyes. "Stars above, Sombra. How could you say such a thing? I truly thought you cared."

I tossed my mane roguishly. "Darling, hasn't anypony ever warned a young maiden like you about how truly black-hearted demons are?"

She shook her head in a small 'no', and those wonderstruck eyes never left me. Luna always had a way of making me feel like I was the center of the universe and the way she marveled at me spoke for itself. "I am as you said: a young maid. What would I know of..." She trails off and the look of adoration slips.

In the background, Discord keeps shouting, and all eyes but ours are on him. My focus is given to Luna.

"Isn't having the most straight-faced of them all join in on the God Squad just a little too much? He's never going to have fun or lighten this place up! Didn't he kill ponies or something just a teensy bit on the 'no' side of things? Why does he have red eyes? They're freaky! Can we buy him contact lenses? And, err, maybe it's because I'm new her but why do you keep calling him a-"

"...Demon," I whisper to Luna, eyeing her carefully. "I won't get mad if you say it to me. I'm the only one left, and you've earned that privilege."

The floor has her full attention. "Sombra, I couldn't... not after all the hurt that it has caused you... I couldn't call you that..."

"It's a game, Luna, and only you can."

"...I don't like it though. You aren't a monster and the only reason I don't think of 'demon' as the same thing any longer i-is..." Luna swallowed.

"Luna?" I said softly.

She leaned forward and nuzzled my too quickly for me to blink before retreating. "...It's because of you, Sombra. I couldn't insult you like that."

My expression softened slightly and I placed a forehoof under her chin and gently tilted her head up so she could see me.

"Say it," I said. "I won't get mad, Luna. The whole thing is only a joke."

She pokes her tongue out at me. "Ppht."

The echo of a trill sounds in my throat and I draw back a bit, cocking my head to the side. "Close enough," I mutter, smirking.

And then, Luna pushes my hoof away and wraps her forehooves around my neck, pulling me into a kiss just when everypony decides to actually listen to the draconequus.

"I CAN'T BE THE ONLY ONE SEEING THIS!"

The chorus of gasps is of no concern to me. I flick my tail arrogantly and wish I could manage a smirk again.

Oops.



...



I wasn't surprised by the magic that pulsed around me, flooding my sixth sense with divine power. Crackling and the sharp, lively sizzle of sparks filled my ears while the air pulsed with two magics in tandem.

Pulling away from Luna, I opened my eyes and drew in a breath, eyes already searching my surroundings. Luna, still caught with a look of breathlessness and surprise drew back too, the usual turquoise lighting of her horn charged with tones of white, highlighting and casting dramatic shadows on her form.

Luna and I quickly saw that we weren't the only ones casting shadows. Without the ability I have, Luna is only now just confirming this whereas I sensed it before her. My right forehoof still rests on her wither as our eyes scan the crowd of gods. Their faces show varying states of being startled at the display they see... and a couple reflect disgust at the sight of Luna and I exchanging a kiss.

A ring of gold-white fire surrounded us both, and there was no doubt to whose magic had made it. Luna and I viewed it through a rippling dome made up of bolts of her lightning woven together like threads and raining harmless sparks down on us. Once they hit my cloak, they died, leaving only speckled singes, most of which were too small to notice.

Glittering nearby were the array of sparks that had fallen into Luna's mane and reflecting their fleeting light in her widened eyes. She stared at the mare who cast her shadow over us both, the stripes of shadowy feathers showing on Luna's dark coat and across her face like subdued stripes.

Two white wings spread out in full acted as another barrier to keep Luna and I away from the crowd. Attached to them is a stern-looking Celestia, with her aggressively rippling mane, regalia that might as well be attached to her for all I care, and cosmetics that look like paint chipping off her face looks like nothing short of a pretty ticked gargoyle who has been shat upon one too many times.

In those eyes that never viewed me with anything short of filtered contempt, I caught a few embers of sincere venom smoldering there as she looked at the tense semicircle. Everypony was in various states of distrust all directed in the general direction of Luna and I.

"That is why my youngest wants to protect Sombra from all of you," Twinklebutt confirms, tone serious as can be.

Maybe Celestia doesn't realize that I can see there's stoked hatred directed at Twinklebutt in her rose eyes, because I know that there isn't another who can.

"Don't any of you dare take another step toward my sister and Sombra." Celestia's tone was liquid, level, and low as she cast a sweeping look to them all, and I thought the gesture mechanical. "Sombra's crimes originate in the Crystal Empire, which is a territory of my nation of Equestria, thus it should be up to my sister and I to manage his offenses and Sombra himself, even if he is a god."

"Princess Celestia," Elysium's incredulous, yet contained voice rang out, "Are you really going to take such aggressive actions against one, admittedly very threatening gesture on Stolas' part? Everypony here would have stopped it if he had actually done something, and the demon can sense magic and would have escaped unharmed."

"That is not the point I must make," Celestia said with a frosty edge in her voice and directing a chilly glare at the King of Tartarus, who frowned quickly and ducked his gaze a bit. It carried a guilt so obvious that he didn't bother to make the smallest attempt to hide it. Even if he had, I would see past it and his sloppy cover-up would only be a bigger indication. 

Whatever he had done would've been a purely physical and non-magical or I would have sensed it and countered it if possible. A physical attack would still have to get by my reflexes, but that's no excuse for me not to remain vigilant and suspicious.

His horn finally lit up, and though I knew the magic upon it, I tensed anyway, ready to fight while casting a glance at Luna, who was waiting and watching with apprehension and solemnity on her face.

Fire flashed briefly, and he had teleported elsewhere, leaving a spot in the rank of gods empty.

Quickly letting my focus shift to where Pink One and her purple companion stood in the shadow of the twin thrones of the Pantheon, I caught the nervous smile of Pink One and fearful shock of Lavender Lack-wit. No matter the distance, the display of Luna and I was still fresh in their minds.

Celestia spoke again with the same air of authority. "Yes, I know that Sombra is a demon." The way she said my name was with undertones of disgust, like it was something she could chew up and spit out. I tensed up and laid my ears back just hearing the subtle malice that I could never ignore. 

"Sombra is also a god," she continued slowly, "and his danger has only increased because of this. We are all aware of this, but how many of you are truly aware of some of the world's happenings?"

As soon as she said this, she received more than a few scolding looks from everypony but Luna and Twinklebutt. The latter looked upon her with frozen touches of confusion, his eyes constantly searching her... or, more likely, for something about her, only to end up with an unmistakable blank stare at being unable to find something.

Pretending - I knew better than to call it anything else when she clearly wasn't on that good of terms with many of these beings - to acknowledge the other gods, Celestia continued speaking with the experience of any lying orator.

"I think that I should point out not the cruel and terrifying of evils that define Sombra, but the present of Equestria," she opened. "Discord has been reformed and now stands among you as a peer. The faithful and unfailing Twilight Sparkle is my sister's savior. Tirek has been  imprisoned once more, locked up tighter than ever. I propose that my sister, whose pure heart outshines the darkness of this creature, be made to reform him so that he will be able to aid ponies as Discord has done now that he has finally been changed by the love of Luna." A soft smile made its way onto Celestia's face as she looked to everypony, eyes settling on the lone draconequus in the crowd.

I had the power and will, and flaring anger to snap one of her legs right then and there. I wanted to. My jaw clenched and I hid the extent of my flaring anger, just not the emotion itself. 

Until Luna's wing slipped around me and drew me close to her; we hadn't realized how tense the other was. Black bangs, the careful tilt of my head, direction of my hard gaze, and the fact that I was rarely looked at twice aided in concealing all but traces of just how much Celestia's words had stoked my temper.

A quick but meaningful look at Luna revealed eyes filled with a conflicting storm of thoughts and creeping gloom. Her small smile was a nervous grimace that struck me as paranoid and she stood at a height meant to make her, the second-shortest of the divines, look at how she carried herself instead of her height. That was the sole factor about her that few would be intimidated by, even if she was taller than any pony, and me too. Height was a poor judge of her character, or anypony's.

When her sister spoke the given name of Purple Eyesore, I saw something like the softest bit of resentment behind a glimpse of sullen embarrassment buried behind those splendid turquoise eyes that I don't think anypony ever looked beyond or read the way I did.

Luna leaned to me for support and I let her. She mumbled under her breath something I caught in part, and that was enough: she was going to speak with the sister she still trusted and cared about. Celestia just didn't know that I was more than meets the eye, Luna said, and she'd explain herself and how she's forgiven me.

Sweet, if context was cut away at parts. Luna was one for words as lovely as I thought her and more. They were honest words... but her love for her sister was misplaced. I know nothing of familial loyalty in the ways that she does, and there's no doubt that it can be as misplaced as any other loyalty... more than most, even.

When I was certain that nopony was looking, I sneaked in an ear nibble to help relax her. Hang in there.

Her feathers stroked any bit of me that wasn't covered by my cloak and even the parts that were with small, careful, brief movements that were observed by none. And you as well, Sombra.

Of course she knew just how many little fractures were running through my self control with every word her sister spoke. Luna's eyes told me that I just had to focus on her - as if I wasn't already doing that - and listen. I'll pull through is what she wants to tell me. She wants to sing to me. Choosing to focus on the sound of her breathing, a small part of me managed to relax partially.

She leaned just close enough to me to not draw too much attention to us while Celestia continued her speech. I relished in the warmth of her touch, no matter how much appreciation I have toward the cold and chills, Luna's body heat was a feeling as good as any chilly Arctic wind.

"I am aware of the many crimes of Sombra, and perhaps more than most. Only my sister has seen the Crystal Empire under his reign as a scout."

My jaw loosened and the growl I bit back died away. To everypony but Luna, I looked stoic. Only she read between the lines and knew where my mind drifted...

What did she see? Will she tell me one day? I had always known that somepony was in the Empire, somepony careful, and-

The caress of her feathers pulls me back from memories and everything that will never be forgotten. It's enough, for now.

"Then, my sister and I were unaware of his nature. He was a stranger to us, and a tyrant unlike any the world has known then and since."

Other than you, I wanted to add.

"I have the utmost faith in my sister. She is the one who has always been there for me and is a princess of Equestria alongside me. Her happiness is paramount to me, and if that means she wishes Sombra to stay-"

"I do, sister! I do! I have no companion more trusted than you and him!" Luna's voice rings out with all the strength of a battle song, and sounds just as melodious as most things she speaks, with that low, dulcet tone that she has just for me...

To call my stare anything other than defiant, proud, and challenging would be a lie. It carries all the arrogance one would expect me to have, and more, as I look Celestia straight into her wavering rose eyes.

"She doesn't," I echo dryly and unsmiling.

Celestia inhales with a mechanical and unenviable calm. "Then so long as I am a princess of Equestria, I promise that Sombra, endling of demons, and newest god of the world shall not be tried or absolved of his past crimes, no matter how unforgivable they may be."

The surprise of this statement wasn't crushing. Luna's flying tackle hug was crushing, but damned if I didn't look dumbfounded, and not from her overjoyed shriek. Of course she was playing some kind of game, that was undeniable... and yet she never would have done any of this-

Luna, have mercy on my lungs. Between the two of us, it is you who has that quality.

-if it weren't for the happiness that I brought Luna and the glee that shone whenever she was near me. This was not a selfish move. It was not a gift or something charitable. 

This action was twisted generosity from the mare history records as its former Bearer. She wants to make her sister happy... and everything behind it is what makes what she has done here still carry some hallmarks of what I know to expect from her, even if nopony else does. Celestia certainly doesn't accept our relationship. I can already think of so many reasons to why, most being obvious. She wants Luna to be happy. Celestia's being selfless - oh my - and that's actually quite a bad thing.

Damn it all, my ribs are being crushed - here's to you, Luna, and your goddess streng- 

OHGODSNONOWITFEELSLIKETHEY'REONFIRELUNASTOP-!

Gasping and coughing, I managed to concentrate enough to ignite my horn with dark aura, which flashed briefly and was gone. A profound cold swept through my body and concentrated near my sides, where my ribs were. My sense of touch as physical creatures knew it deteriorated entirely, replaced with a chilling numbness through which a different way to sense what I touched emerged and the constricting pain of Luna's embrace vanished.

Though my cloak and the goddess pinning me to the ground obscured the change, I'm sure Luna sensed it, even in her hug-frenzy. I had partially shifted my sides into a dense version of my shadow-form so she could attempt to squeeze my lungs out without me being hurt. The cold didn't seem to bother her. She just hugged me tighter, which made me offer a muffled cough. It didn't bother me either - partial shifts like this were one of the few instances where I could feel the cold, and even then it was never the same.

It's not that I wasn't happy with even a small aspect of the outcome of all this, I was. Only Luna could sense it. I wouldn't let anypony else know; I gave no sign that any who didn't know me as well as she did would be able to see. Keeping most of how I presented myself aloof... I might as well have been made for it, and as soon as the thought crosses my mind, I feel my eyes roll. Were I in Luna's company, the two of us alone and together, I would have a smirk too.

I just can't be properly happy for a plethora of reasons. The presence of others? It can squash that fairly easy at times, and I find myself growing warier the longer I stay. All I need to do is look around and see the fragments of something larger in everypony's eyes - the things that they think I'll never see - and there I can glimpse every sign that there's still more to come.

As if I needed a reminder.

Before any growl can slip from me, I hold Luna tighter and push myself up, no matter the weight, especially when it comes to these wild embraces of hers.

I just continue.

No matter the weight.



...



"Do you, Sombra the Endling-"

"Enigma," I cut in without a care in the world to who I'm cutting off or interrupting.

"What?" Elysium says slowly. I know she heard what I said, but she still looks confused. No matter how much taller she is than me, the goddess and ruler of Paradise doesn't feel as bold when I am present, staring up at her, scowling and defiant with a stare that never wavers. For once she isn't attempting to be rude towards me, but I know that will never last.

Her expression tells me that she has never, ever been interrupted before. Whether she'd admit that if I asked, I'm not entirely sure, either way, it's another 'never' broken by me.

"Address me as Sombra the Enigma."

Her brow furrows in confusion and her navy eyes tell me that she hasn't ever been ordered around like this. Her composure - which is more natural than other attempts I have seen - still manages to melt away enough for me to see that she acknowledges I have noted this and am aware of just how many barriers I am breaking with every word I speak.

She thinks I'm too aware.

"Pardon?" she says, tone formal and with a bit of admirable curtness to it. I may resent nearly everypony in here for some reason or another, but the gods know better than to waste time with pleasantries and lathered, unnecessary kindness. Still, my bluntness isn't something that they're ever likely to get used to.

"There isn't any harm in calling me that. You'll just look stupid doing otherwise, and stupid entities are a bit a million. We've already established that I'm an endling and there isn't anything that's going to change that. I'm familiar enough with texts and resources from the Old World to know that gods were often addressed with an epithet, Elysium the Fair."

She doesn't meet my gaze, and instead just focuses on as much as me as she can without directly meeting my gaze. She clears her throat. "You're mad, aren't you?"

"True, but I'm also not wrong, now am I?"

Her expression remains neutral. "Were you not called 'King Sombra the Mad'?"

My jaw clenched. "I'm not a king. Sombra the Mad works, however."

She nods and continues. I catch sight of Luna's face in the crowd, and see how her eyes light up when she caught the title.

"Do you, Sombra the Mad, swear yourself to the Pantheon and the code it operates by? You possess the irrevocable identity that is being the God of Knowledge, but will you align yourself with the Pantheon of this world and contribute to it, working and meeting alongside your fellow divine who govern the lives of mortals?"

Everypony present looked down at me. Luna looked at me with a conflicted gaze, her feathers rustling with worry that nopony else saw. Somewhere in the crowd, I felt the flighty energy of Mac. She wasn't as bubbly among these other gods and I've mostly seen her around Purple Eyesore, the draconequus, and Luna. Celestia was usually talking to the other faces she found less familiar. I could feel Purple Eyesore nearby her too. That one rarely left the side of Pink One and her oh-so-beloved mentor. I was just glad that she was dwarfed by everypony and I didn't have to see her.

All the other gods looked on with varying expressions: completely stoic, certainty, and a kind of humorless satisfaction. They thought they had me, and though the majority of them were sure to what I'd say. I know for certain that one mare was wondering, and I loved her for it.

To them, the answer that was to come out of my mouth was already certain, and they still waited with bated breath for me to accept an offer that nopony had ever thought to refuse.

"Absolutely not," I said, tone filled with nonchalant pride. My ears perked up to catch the sound carry through the abrupt silence.

Expressions shifted, many revealing mortification that hadn't been there before. A few ears perked up in disbelief and a few folded downward with disgust and chilly hatred that I caught in the eyes of the other gods.

"Come again?" Elysium asked, eyes filled with shock she couldn't disguise, even when she was trying her hardest to keep her voice level.

"Did you really think I'd agree to something like this? Ever?"

Her jaw twitched slightly. "Care to explain yourself and your accusing tone?"

"Gladly," I drawl, flashing a smug smirk. "You all want to control me."

Nopony said anything.

"Everypony here, with one notable exception, wants and expects me to swear myself to this, as everypony before me has. Here, I'd be observable and have to follow a way other than my own. Thus, you think you can control me. It's not that subtle."

The silence I received was more telling than any verbal reply.

"Swearing myself to this group will take away the independence I cherish. Restricting me is something that's all on your minds. Well, guess what? You lose. I reject this, and even if you tell me I 'can't', I will. There's nothing you can do about, really. If you tell me I'm selfish, and act as though that's wrong, you'll be wrong. I am very selfish, and that's not going to change, and neither is my choice."

Silence dragged on. Other gods had begun to exchange glances, and none of them were at my gorgeous self. I felt spurned and scowled slightly at their unnecessary discrimination.

That's one reason why I'd never let something like this happen. They really think that they can take something away from me? They honestly thought that they could work me into plans to hinder and degrade me? I know the looks they give be and the transparent motives they thought they could hide.

It was either go my own way and risk everything in a world where my allies would be little, my 'safety' of no guarantee, become an easy suspect in any problem these gods would intervene in, and a bigger loose cannon than I already was...

...Or swear myself to my enemies and be restricted, monitored, and bound by something as trivial as whatever ethics they force upon me. I would be tossed in a pecking order if I agreed, treated as 'the odd one out' as if that were a bad thing. There would be attempts to do something as despicable and futile to humble me and have me conform to the standards of these creatures.

This choice was stupidly easy.

"I'm able to refuse this offer of yours, even if nopony else ever has, and I do."

Looks were exchanged: cold and business-like glances slashing across the pavilion with a sharp mix of disapproval and disbelief that hadn't faded in the slightest.

"You refuse?" Elysium said, slowly, deliberately. She enunciated everything carefully as if I were a child, and a particularly stupid one at that.

"I refuse," I confirmed, tone curt and condescending as ever. "I'd love to see you attempt to do something about it too, and prove that this fantastic little club of yours wishes to use me, control me, and keep an eye on precious little Sombra, but then again, your inaction can mean just as much as action. Go on. I love being proved right." I flashed a fabulous, smug smile.

Elysium's mouth tightened into a small scowl. "You were offered a choice, Sombra, not a bond which you cannot escape."

"Well, forgive me if I'm skeptical of such arrangements." I sneered at her a bit, disgust dominating my features.

"Do you grasp the consequences that could come by refusing this offer and what they might be?"

"Yes, and there are less of them compared to what would happen if I joined this cult of yours."

Elysium took a deep, annoyed breath. "This is not a-"

"It is and you know it. Now, is there anything else you have to say?"

Her exhaled was muffled as everypony looked on while the silence intensified. 

"Refusing a place among the Pantheon, the order among orders, means that you will be known as a rogue god."

I raise an eyebrow. "There were more?"

Her expression doesn't waver. "You would be the first," she says with frosty, imperial calm.

A short, meaningful silence follows and my reserved, challenging gaze meets hers. Hoofsteps sound behind us.

"If that is to be so, then I shall be the second rogue god!"

I could never attribute that voice to anypony else and whirl around to see-

Luna.

Luna, standing tall and as proud as her words.

Luna's steely gaze swept through the crowd while I did my best to only allow my eyes to betray how awestruck I was. "I forfeit my position among this Pantheon if Sombra is to refuse as well. None of you will benefit him, and I have no wish to stay among you when he is correct in how this order wishes to maintain everything that would be against him. Not a single one of you would treat him as anything but the monster you think he is and impose further restrictions upon-"

"Luna!" Celestia interrupted, nudging her way past the others in her way and mumbling a few polite, expected, utterly mechanical apologies when she bumped somepony. "Luna, please, do not do this!"

"Sister," Luna said, looking up at Celestia who stood only a few paces away. "The one reason that I joined you here was because of my return... but I cannot go through with this, nor could I remain here."

"Why?" Celestia said, rose eyes pleading. It was the most unrestrained emotion I had personally witnessed her displaying openly. "Luna, why would you want to leave this place, to forfeit something that is your right and have no say in the divine matters in this world? This is something optimal for everypony, and Sombra should see that. Mortals and immortal alike would thrive-"

"If I was finally under control?" I interrupted with a blunt, testy tone that drew all eyes to me once again. "I'm aware how optimal this would be - optimal for everypony but me. Any others who would suffer because of this, I'm not sure of, but I would. That's why you'll never get me to do it. I'm always aware of how 'optimal' these things are, that's why I won't do them." I shrugged casually, as uncaring as ever. "My life is going to be exactly that: mine. I'm going to live it as such too. I'd wish you luck stopping me... except it won't do you much good and I'm not one for lying. And thank you for confirming everything I suspected once again. Are you even trying here?"

Celestia opened her mouth and closed it just as quickly. An even quicker flash of annoyance shone in her eyes - it was directed at me, of course. Her unusually emotional look returned to Luna, still pleading. "Luna," she said, quietly and delicately. It was almost tearful. "Is this about something that I did? If you need me, I'm always here to listen-"

"No, sister." Luna still kept her tone level, proud, and firm. I wanted to tell her that she was spectacular right now, but if she noticed how I stared... it should be enough. "Sombra, as you have all seen, is somepony very close to me."

'Close'. That's one way to describe it. Rather... lacking. Then again, I suppose that there are few better descriptions that poor little Celestia and the others here will be able to process.

The sound of a guffaw that sounds suspiciously like Mac causes me to swivel my ears forward to catch the sound.

"Sombra is somepony I love. I shall not devolve into a naive, foolishly optimistic, unnecessary speech that comes across as a plea for approval and for understanding of the love Sombra and I share. Instead, I will state this: it is a love that I am going to protect. I wish to owe allegiance and loyalty to those I find worthy of it, for loyalty should not be given freely, nor should things like kindness and charity-" She gave her sister a softened version of a typical pointed look, "-something that Celestia and I continuously disagree about."

Celestia's small, tight smile appeared for a moment. "Go on," she said softly, but just loud enough to be heard by everypony who watched with silent anticipation.

She wanted Luna to be quiet.

But Luna was not silent. My eyes were on her and her alone, watching her speak.

"My decision is as final as Sombra's. I shall not remain here. I am aware of all the consequences that this action will entail, and readily accept them. I know that I will no longer be welcome here if I leave, and that bothers me not. I know that the nation of a rogue god would not be taken as kindly to and that the actions of such an entity would 'ever be regarded with suspicion. For that, I am prepared. My love and freedom lie with Sombra, so why should I not break rules? I have lived long enough to know that some rules are naught much more than elaborate restrictions that are nothing that I wouldn't shirk."

Even from here, I saw Celestia's throat tighten with a harsh swallow and a smug smile played across my muzzle at the sight.

Elysuim and Twinklebutt traded looks before the former spoke, voice projected but not thundering like the Alicorns' Voice.

"Very well then, Luna, Princess of Equestria. You and Sombra the Mad may have a couple hours to remain here should you reconsider."

'Reconsider'. Sure.

I'll stay for a little though.

There's still somepony I need to talk to. After that? Who knows.

The crowd is ineffective camouflage, and I locate a purple limb among the tall gods.
> Chapter 54: Every Little Act of Transcendence You Only Failed to Make
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Sombra:



My horn dims and once the crimson aura fades, the last of the world blurs around us. The corner of the Pantheon that I stand on - where only her and I are - is blurred to the an indistinct state, like a glittering watercolor. Paradise beyond it is reduced to a kaleidoscope haze that I can only pick so much out of while looking at the shiny, running colors.

The ground underhoof crackles slightly and my mouth twitches into a thoughtful expression. I'll have to fix that later, if it proves to be a problem. I look down to see faint disturbances where I stand. My sense tells me that the fracture lines are largely meaningless and won't need much probing or interfere. The sight of the ground crunches and sparkles in pieces, fracturing beneath me. Each fascinating imperfection is like a broken gem facet.

It looks like the new idea and the magic I've shaped and wrought with it will be very useful in the future. Blurring exactly where I 'store' myself and another - that will have to remain singular for now - and letting me step between veils of sight to slip from place to place undisturbed, unnoticed, and unseen will be a fantastic way to travel the wilds in the future, or spy on anypony who requires it.

I frowned, but my expression was still thoughtful. This would probably make it easier for me to be tracked, depending on exactly how-

"W-What did you just do?" the startled voice of Pesky Purple Eyesore says. "What happened? Why does everything look so..." She gulped, loudly and nervously so that when she spoke again her voice caught, "...broken?"

"Being 'broken' and 'different' are two different things," I muttered impatiently. My eyes found her un-blurred form easily as she stood at one of the Pantheon's edges, frightened and confused.

I didn't tell her that if she ran about, screaming, and charged into the crowd and threw her forehooves around her mentor, tugging her in the direction of whatever was troubling her and rubbed her snot in Celestia's white coat as she wept, she'd disrupt the spell.

I watched her with a partial scowl. She shivered and looked away with a twitch and a deeper look of confusion in her eyes. A shred of composure and straightened posture was regained when she was turned away, her eyes unable to see my stare, but I know she felt it.

I also know that she had no clue to what I did to her last time, she only felt the impression I left: she should be very, very afraid of me.

She swallowed again and brought a shaky forehoof to her chest, exhaling loudly and pushing it free, like an invisible weight could be lifted from her. I watched as her bangs bobbed with an absentminded nod and she straightened her posture out even further.

"Are you just going to make an effort to ignore me?" I rolled my eyes and snorted, trying to lay a bet on the exact tone of her reply.

"Of course," she said with a plastered shield of calm control that I don't think anypony, save the most oblivious of them all, could ever believe. "I'm going to try and find a way out of here, think on this spell, and where you could've learned it."

"You couldn't ignore me if you tried."

I saw her attempt at a neutral expression tighten a little before the anxious interior ate through it. "I can, and I will try," she said brightly - really, that tone right there and the garish shades of purple that make her up are the only bright things about her to me. 

"You already failed, and do you really think that optimism is going to save you?"

Her momentary almost-smile slipped and she turned to face me, but kept her gaze directed anywhere other than straight at me. "I do think it can work, and I know it will. It hasn't failed in the past."

As somepony whose copied your memories, no, no it hasn't. An outsider's insight - not one outside yourself, there's always those, but a true outsider, is valuable, and you'd never listen to any of it... you would have never listened to Luna.

"I'm sure it has." 

There was that ever-so-slight look of displeasure again. "You've never been optimistic about anything, or kind. Sombra, you just don't listen to anypony, so of course! You're so..." She prepared for her master insult, almost beaming when she hurled it at me, "...prideful!"

"I'm hurt," I say, lathering on sarcasm and bringing a forehoof to my chest while she returns to her attempts to ignore me after dropping the last of her little lecture.

"I know you'll never accept it," she says with the same obnoxious perkiness that I loathe, "but you're going to lose a lot because of your pride, and the things you've done to innocent ponies in the past. You aren't a healthy pony. No family, no friends, and you're so... unpredictable and antisocial. You can't accept the kindness and charity of others. Queen Elysium and Princess Celestia have both done great things for you. Instead, you spurn them by refusing the offer of a thousand lifetimes and continuing to commit crimes in the nation of the most forgiving and wonderful teach- goddess that anypony could want. How is that good and harmonious?"

"It isn't," I said, angry, but not growling, "which is exactly why I do it."

"You mean you think you can just get away with everything because there's no consequence to your actions?"

"Hardly," I say with an arrogant toss of my mane. "There's many consequences to my actions, they're just lesser things. What do I care if I'm not seen as a productive member of society or if a nation wants a price on my head? They're more inconveniences, at most, and absurd at others. I know the consequences for my actions, prepare for them, and break them. Or, I deal with them as they come and learn from them. My actions have very different consequences than whatever it is you're envisioning, and that might also have to do with you not knowing what my actions really are. Now, go on. I'm getting quite the kick out of this."

"You still don't take me seriously...?" she said softly, aghast.

"I never took your seriously, but once I made the mistake of pinning a couple low expectations on you, only to have to discover how subpar you are."

Her jaw clenched a little and her purple eyes hid almost a spark's worth of frustrations. I was obviously very intimidated. "It's ponies like you that ruin things for others. Instead of making decisions that are optimal for everypony, or at least, many ponies and will bring them happiness, you only care about yourself. It's just a shame that Princess Luna thinks that she can see something in you..."

I laugh.

I really do. It's so, undeniably, nearly unbelievably, and hilariously stupid and the look of something bordering on terror at the sight of me laughing at something that I find genuinely funny. Tartarus, there's a bit of a smirky smile on my muzzle. 

Now, this was making my day.

"Alright, alight, so let's see what we've got here," I began, not bothering to halt the smile - I'd let this one slip. "You are telling me, somepony who your culture that- bwahaha! Okay, let me start again: You are not only telling me something I've heard hundreds of times before, but something I've heard from ponies who died broken, bleeding, and in pieces at my hooves. Ponies who cursed me with their dying breath. Ponies who thought they knew what was happening in the Empire that was usurped from the mare they proclaimed its rightful ruler."

She stared at me slack-jawed and distracted. "You just confessed..."

I flashed my facetious smile. "Not only did you say that to me, you accuse somepony who you know to do things like murder, and if you believe your culture - which I know you do, you doubtless brown-muzzle - I've done much worse, fouler things-"

"So many ponies can't be wrong, and you know it, Sombra! You don't know anything about doubt because you have never doubted anything, especially yourself!" She stands straight despite all the confusion still hanging in those eyes and the fear that won't ever go away.

I could be angry; I feel it in me so strongly right now, I could just act upon it since she's somepony I wouldn't mind dispatching. She has no idea about anything that surrounds me, like how I'm so confident in myself because I've doubted myself most of all. I do have an obsession with being right, and I will question myself the most to be sure of it. She has no idea that the reason I realized that there was something wrong about what was going on in the Empire with Onyx and I is because I defied, questioned, and more than anything else, I had doubted. 

But I let her go on because morbid curiosity is sinking in. Very morbid curiosity. My expression is no longer the same flippant, laughing young stallion, but the dark inquisitiveness and vivid, cold, thoughtful face I've made for many other things.

"Can I go on?" Despite the fiery, tempered edge to my tone, there's a frostiness to how I speak that causes a look of primal fear to flash over Purple Eyesore for a second. She nods mutely, and the reaction fades. She's been conditioned once before, and now once again.

"Everything you've said to me is laughable. Do you think I'm unaware of all the things you like to preach? I am, more than you are ever going to know. This is a joke to me at best, or annoying if I'm in a bad mood. At worst? Don't ask. You and your mentor tell me about what it's like to be a 'good' pony and about all these ridiculous things. I have a friend too, if you haven't realized that. I'm honestly just waiting until you realize that I am not a pony. I never want to be a pony. More often than not, they're monsters or mundane... or the latter to disguise the former. 'Good' is everything that you aren't ever going to really know, and the last word I'd use to describe most things. I've met somepony who is truly good, and she isn't a pony at all - in fact, that's probably a large contributing factor to why she is that way. Even then, the best ponies out there are probably some of the worst, instead of privileged, over-grown filly-types, and absolutely ignorant little brown-muzzles like you."

Plum Pawn's face displayed an attempt at determination that got an eyebrow raise of pure terror from me. The way she stood was almost like an action pose that caped ponies and other creatures that littered many posters in Canterlot had.

"Do you think that just by saying these things you're right?"

"Really, I'm mostly in it for insulting you at this point. Being honest is just a bonus. You should talk to that freckled friend of yours about honesty - no, scratch that, you and Celestia both should-"

"Stop talking about Princess Celestia like that! I'm used to you insulting me, but insulting my friends, family, and my mentor, who has done nothing but devote time and love to me and everypony in Equestria who is good or reformed - and who is responsible for sparing you! - is crossing the line! She's not a tyrant! I know her, and she's not cruel or anything. She's good and fair. She's selfless and  has worked her whole life to help others, which is something that you have never, ever done. You aren't useful and you don't use your abilities to help others. Just what are your ethics?"

"Considerably better than yours, actually, if this is to be taken as an example of yours."

She ignored me, of course, and kept going on while I admired my reflection in a pillar. I ran my tongue over my concealed fangs. All this talk about the nature of 'good' have tragically neglected to mention how good I'm looking right now.

Damn.

"Instead of learning about ponies or any other animals and about how we're better than just slaughterers and how we have wonderful things like families, friends, and lovers in our orderly society, you've done nothing but terrorize everypony! You've broken nearly everything about what it means about being a pony-"

"I'm not a pony. Can't you at least cool your racism while I ignore you? Good grief," I mumble, tipping my hood over my head to conceal my beautiful face from her unworthy eyes.

"-you've broken our laws-"

"Some of those are really just guidelines, and before you get to my lifestyle, I'll have you know it's called 'living off the land'."

"-and you've refused to adjust and heal from whatever makes you so crazy and antisocial when you could be doing so much better!"

Better for you and everypony that matters nothing to me - it's the same as being used. I'll take meaningful selfishness over that every time.

She stood, looking up at me, puffing for breath and wings spread from the stress her filibuster of a lecture has caused her. "Well?" she wheezes. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

"Go die in a fire."

She blinks, and then blinks again. "What?"

"What I just demonstrated is known as 'hostility'. It means I hate you, and that if you weren't almost related to my dear friend Pink One, I'd happily wish your entire family dead. Mostly you. Have you received that information yet, or do I need to repeat myself? Would you like me to do that in a different language, because I know a few. If you're up to it, just right up a little note and give it to me and I'll introduce Fate to your neck. However, I'm afraid it will only be a brief affair. I promise that I will give the note to whomever you choose. I swear on every snarky thing I've said in my life."

"Y-You're sick."

I blow a bit of my bangs out of my eyes. Maybe I'll need to trim them just a little. "I'm actually feeling pretty good today. A little annoyed, but otherwise alright. Maybe a tad ready to rip out your vocal cords - I actually have unfortunate experience in that. Don't ask."

She gulped, raising a forehoof to her throat. "I-I-I..."

"You're magnificently articulate, by the way. I can really see why Celestia chose somepony like you as her next favorite pawn. Young. Innocent. Impressionable. Awkward. Eager to please. Tartarus knows you must've been a little bundle of joy to her. I bet she read to you often, hmm? History books. History she wrote herself. History she wrote herself and was ever-so-humble enough to submit it here and there under different, modest names or none at all. I bet there were so many monsters in those books. Oh, and of course: heroes. Big, brave heroes! They made you giggle and gasp in awe as you heard her. Did you like how she voiced Starswirl, the shining example you yearned to follow? A magician who did nothing wrong?"

Purple's voice was a whisper. "H-How did you know? Can you read my-?" She hiccuped. "Please-"

"You did, didn't you? He was just so perfect, wasn't he? Just a sorcerer who helped ponies and lived mysteriously. There was nothing strange at all about a famed celebrity being so reclusive. No questions for information, no doubt at all. Not even when you were older. There was just that memory and others of you looking up at a rose-eyed mare who was your teacher."

"P-Please-"

I continue, tone colder. "And Celestia, the goddess-princess you admired could never do any wrong. She was kind. She was caring. You struggled to talk to anypony that wasn't a family member and now here you were, giving little lectures on magic, morals, history and more that the precious, pretty princess managed to coax out out of you with all sorts of smiles. Why did you never doubt them? Why did you read everything she gave you? Why did you 'befriend' those unicorn mares that she dumped on you? Why don't you do this? I just want to hear it from you. If you're so knowledgeable - I know you think you are - why don't you tell me?"

She sniffled and looked down at her shaking legs. "I-I... w-why?"

"Perfection gets you every time. The fact that she was pretty in your eyes wasn't that bad either. Perfect. Pretty. There were other things too, things that were just as fake. Things you never doubted. You loved that mare as something more than a teacher, I know you did. Starswirl was dead. While other fillies were looking at... what are they?" I half-closed my eyes to recall the memories a little bit more, lighting my horn softly to encourage a bit more clarity since these were memories that I had Archived. "Movies. Yes, those. Other fillies stared at movie stars, you dreamed of a long-dead wizard, and eventually the goddess you idolized."

I heard her whimper.

"Of course, she had to tell you that you were a teenager with a simple crush and she was a goddess who too old and not attracted to mares."

"P-Please s-stop it," Purple Eyesore whimpered, shaking legs giving out so she hit the ground with a plop, and was left, sitting up and staring at me with teary eyes.

Adjusting my cloak, I sat nearby so that there were no more than twelve pony-lengths between us. While she sat in the middle of the floor, I had my back to a pillar and my gaze to the blurry landscapes of Paradise far below. It still looked fantastic, even in the present conditions.

"...You..." She cough-sobbed, and sniffled, tilting her head so I couldn't see her crying. Knowing her, she must've thought that her bangs would properly conceal her. "You stopped..."

I didn't look in her direction. "I did."

She didn't ask why.

"You're never going to doubt her are you?"

"Never," Purple Eyesore croaks. "She's everything I said she is and more. Why would I ever listen to you saying nothing but f-false things about h-her?"

"Because I have nothing to gain from prying Celestia's favorite pawn from her hooves."

"I'm a pony, not a pawn!"

"You're being used," I say flatly. I would know the signs better than anypony.

"The princess really cares for me! She's not selfish, scheming, and murderous like you."

"She cares for using you. I can't see anything that would suggest otherwise, and it would do you good to be cautious around her and doubt her in some way. She isn't perfect, nopony is. That seems to be a lesson that you are either incapable of learning or you're just this dense willingly. With what I know about you, I'd be betting on the former."

I heard her rub at one of her teary eyes with a forehoof. "You always assume the worst about her."

"I know more about her than you do."

She sniffled again. "No, you don't. Even if she wasn't as nice as she is now in the past, you're always accusing others of something. Ponies change!"

I snorted and replied just as quickly as she had finished. "Ponies don't change. Gods don't change. You can grow so much, but if you look back and sift through everything you've ever been, nothing's gone, just buried. You are always going to have to live with yourself and everything you've ever done. 'Change' is a joke made up by ponies who have little understanding of themselves and anything external of them."

"But Princess Luna changed! The Elements of H-Harmony change things."

"Luna's never changed."

I heard her take a shaky breath. "Are you really saying that nothing can change ponies? That's... T-That's..."

"Dark magic changes ponies. You should think on that, and what it means, because I'll tell you right now: it means something, but I don't hoof out answers on a whim."

One purple forehoof tapped at the ground. "Just what do you think you're saying, Sombra? I don't believe you one bit. All you want to do is ruin me, and hurt my friends and family."

I laughed shortly and humorlessly. "Such accusations, and here you are, still saying my name like it's still some kind of venomous curse or great crime."

"Being a demon is technically a crime," she says with the obnoxious tone of nagging attendant checking something off a list, "and you should be grateful that Princess Celestia has let you go on despite you still being... well, you."

"Gosh, I just feel so repulsed by you dredging up my deepest and darkest secrets like this. What heinous actions am I to be accused of next..." I paused dramatically before whispering, "...tax evasion? Or is that too much?"

I heard her gasp a little, but still busied myself with the landscape spread out below. "A-Are you always this... bitter?"

She said 'bitter' like it was some kind of forbidden ritual.

"I drink coffee, live alone, am usually surrounded by idiots, have to deal with you on the unfortunate occasion, jaywalk constantly, have part time employment, and like philosophy. Of course I'm bitter."

There were a few more sniffles. Her voice still sounded like she had been crying, but that effect was fading. "You're not funny. Ponies like you... you're the ponies that aren't even likely to offer something as simple as a 'good morning' to somepony else and... Ponies like you are the ones who... You're awful! I don't hate ponies, but ponies like you... and villains like Tirek, who will destroy anything for power and ruin the homes of others. You're so, so cruel. You aren't needed like everypony else."

"Nopony should have to be 'needed'. It's a disgusting thought." I slump against the pillar a little more, but not so much that I'm incapable of whipping Fate out of its sheath or making myself ready for a battle in an instant.

"You're brutal."

"You're unhealthily obsessed with something that doesn't exist, aren't able to take 'no' for an answer, and part of you still thinks that Luna would genuinely want you and could love somepony like you."

Purple Eyesore was quiet for a long time. I counted ten minutes before I heard one last sobbing noise, one that I remained indifferent to. Then, quiet resumed for a while longer.

"That's what you wanted to tell me?"

"Yes. If Luna wanted to be your friend, at the very least, or have any kind of unprofessional contact with you, don't you think she'd give you a sign? I'd expect a Princess of Friendship to know this. Luna's honest-"

"She's kind of rude... but that can change-"

"Be quiet," I hissed, still refusing to direct anything other than my tone at her, and she was as soon as she heard the venom in it. "Luna is a very honest and remarkable mare, and yet she still can't bother to call you out for some of the things you've done... things that you still persist in doing, and I know still bother her from the way she's spoken about them. I know how you've thought of her, I know that you would never be interested in Luna so much as you are caught up in thoughts of a fantasy princess that you've pushed to the back of your mind."

"Oh gods," she whimpered into her forehooves. "Oh gods, Sombra. Are you always this brutal?"

"You really think this is 'brutal' for me? And here I thought that after our last, unfortunately prolonged encounter, you would know that I am, and have been, capable of far worse things. There's nothing brutal about this."

There's the sound of a loud swallow again. "...Can I g-go now?"

My eyes still don't bother to look over to her. I light my horn with crimson aura as an answer and she fades into the outer world. Her watery-looking purple form, looks up, clearly startled, smooths her mane, then stands up. Without any words - I wouldn't have heard them here anyway - she leaves, drifting closer to the crowd.

I turn to watch as she trots over to a familiar splash of pink, but my eyes land on somepony else: a tall white mare.

I still have somepony else to talk to before I take my leave, and unlike Purple Eyesore, who was no rival - or anything like one - at all, this mare has been nothing but a problem to me.



...



Celestia greets me with a simple, cold, and indirect look of acknowledgement. I had pulled the veil-like magic I had crafted away just as she had strayed so far from the gods gathered here - far enough for nopony to notice and those that might have noticed us together and me stepping from the shadows to not care. It was apathy I could appreciate.

I heard a small way that her breath caught, and was stifled and snuffled in a way she thought nopony would notice. I rolled my eyes at what I could never stop seeing past. I knew that seeing the way the world ran around her and was solid beneath her hooves, no matter how much it looked otherwise - and the fact that it was me who controlled this. I knew it unsettled her.

"Why did you want to talk with me?" Her tone was chilly, but not absurdly so. Level and unremarkable, but not emotionless or monotone. No anger seethed there, and I was tempted to change that and poke around until I got a hostile reaction and pull away shreds of whatever she plastered herself with to let something toxic out. I want to watch something spill out and stain her. She isn't frighteningly calm, she's a painted facade with something different underneath and I want to know what.

"You know that you have plenty you want to say to me and that you still wish I was a mortal whose life you could end easily."

Her expression remained almost flawlessly undisturbed, only a bit of annoyance smoldered in her eyes and caused her expression to sour. Her emotions were as safeguarded as her magic.

Her true emotions, if any of my suspicions about her burying something uglier than everything I've seen - and most of her magic with it - are entirely, and undeniably correct. I don't know if Luna ever saw them, but I think I usually received an inkling of them.

Standing in the blurry penumbra of Celestia's shadow, I stared at her steadily as I tugged my hood up. "Are you going to deny it?"

"Of course I will." She pursed her lip with that same slight annoyance. "Your accusations against me are absurd and the product of somepony not sound of mind. All they do is reflect how filled with spite you are."

She gave me another chilly look and I returned a flat stare. "Is this about my sister?" Her tone was noticeably softer than before.

"Partially."

Her eyes narrowed. "Sombra, if you do anything to hurt her in any way or break her heart-"

"Like you did?" I arch an eyebrow and let a split-second cruel, taunting smirk show before returning to something between annoyance and a rather grim brand of stoic.

I catch her bite the inside of her cheek, and like clockwork, she recovers too quickly. "You weren't around, then. Do not talk about matters which you have no right to speak in, demon."

I growl at her but don't drop the disguise on my fangs or bare my teeth. Whenever she's says it, it's a knife, and infuriating how she's looking at me like that-

"You are far too vocal, and especially about matters you need no say in. You speak for nopony, and nopony will speak for you - and especially not with you continuing your unrepentant and entirely ungrateful behavior. I have saved you from a world of strife that your display with my little sister has cost you, and now you've convinced her that leaving the Pantheon is a good idea? It's irrational and I pray that she will reconsider and go where there's a place for her-"

"Even when she thinks I don't want her, she'll always have a place with me, and it won't be a freezing prison among the stars," I hiss through clenched teeth, glaring at her and sparing her no maliciousness.

And she does not falter. Her eyes narrow again, and with a motion like a lever being pulled, she dips her head as close as she dares in my direction.

"I know you have a temper, and are horribly impatient with ponies. If you even dare to use it against-"

She's not...

I look straight into those eyes and start to feel sick at her implications.

She is.

"I would never do anything to hurt her-"

Right now, it looks like she's trying and failing to look straight through me. Her stare lacks any intensity. "I have no reason to believe that, and neither does anypony else. You have lied to everypony you've encountered and only my dear sister, who is so fragile and still new to the modern world, has bothered to listen to every absurd thing that you say and has grown attached to you. I know not if she is able to see past your dark looks, something that has likely captured her confused heart, but I know what lies below. This is your last chance for any redemption at all, and it is not a chance you ever deserved."

I concealed no rage from her; my eyes burned with the intensity of it as my stare bored into her. I gritted my teeth, clenched my jaw, and stood tall as I growled at her. A couple locks of my mane were already shifting to shadow and my blood roared in my ears while my muscles tensed, waiting for a fight that part of me would love to have.

Celestia continued calmly, her voice kept low, even though nopony could hear us. "If you ever lay a hoof on her-"

"I WOULD NEVER-"

This mare was able to ignore me staring much more than daggers - Tartarus, I was beyond even staring wars at her - as I screamed almost directly into her face.

"-or take advantage of her in any way and manipulate her - a mare who has allowed a wrathful being who is less than beasts to know something of love I doubt you could even return in part - in any way that I can see with that repulsive sense of pride that you have, I will do worse than banish you into an ice-bound void, immortal god or not, with all the power that I have."

I was shaking visibly, and the face I saw reflected in Celestia's eyes - my own - was tinged red with fury. There was an almost magical and harsh warmth radiating from her as her mane lashed impatiently. Her words had torn at some wounds, but not ones I'd ever let her see. My restraint was thinning more than I was letting on. Plans to hurt her were swarming around in the back of my head like the Sky Scraper in Luna's hurricane.

"You really think that it would even cross my mind to hurt her?!" I bristled with anger and pawed at the ground, and the sound of metal striking the Pantheon's floor rang out.

"I do. Sombra, I do not think you are capable of the slightest kindness. You know only cynicism, cruelty, selfishness, and these brutal insults that you dish upon undeserving ponies and pass off as honesty."

"You're a lying and attention seeking wretch who can't let her sister make her own choices, and know nothing of me and what I know."

"I am not this vain and petty mare you make me out to be - and don't you know how hypocritical 'attention seeking' is coming from you? You are unhealthily self-obsessed."

"Compared to you, I want to live a quiet life." I refused to look away from her, and she ducked her gaze, and I observed that she was making far less of an effort to hide that she was displeased with me.

"I'm sure that quiet life of yours will involve silencing others." She looks at me with a sudden somberness. "Just what horrible thoughts race through your tainted mind as you end the life of somepony? Do you feel anything in your wretched heart about what you've done and care anything for the pain that you have inflicted upon the other? Does it bring you pleasure?"

"IT DOES NOT!" I scream in her face, wanting so badly to strike her, but instead have to focus on pushing away thoughts of the Crystal Empire, what happened there, and Onyx, who is now gone, gone, gone...

She won't flinch. I want her to flinch and cower at my hooves, but today isn't the day for that. 

"And yet, who is ever going to believe you, Sombra? You lack any friends or ponies who will vouch for you - good ponies with sound minds and pure hearts-"

"Are you saying that your sister lacks one of those, even in your nonsense mentality of absolutes?" When I'm this angry and my temper starts to show itself more and more, ponies are afraid of me. They fear eyes that have a glare that cuts through them and a voice that causes everything they have to say to crumble with its harsh, unstoppable tone.

Celestia is not fearless and she's not reacting to me at all. Even the way she presents the smallest things has a lie somewhere in there.

"Your silence speaks for itself, doesn't it?" There isn't anything but a hostile edge in my tone and a burning irritation in how I glare at her.

"My sister is a complicated matter and you have no right to know what struggles she goes through."

"Oh, shut up. If it were up to you, I'd have no 'rights' at all."

"You don't," she says simply, like I was being informed of something as simple as what the weather will be. "A defiant, violent, and ill creature like you - and who has done the things that you have - is one that is best killed quickly. There is no doubt that it was you who brought so much suffering to the Crystal Empire, to my student, and her family."

"You keep wanting to find a way to control me, and yet there is none. Not unless you were to hurt your sister. Again. I'm not sure if I'd put it past you too."

Mild shock showed on her face. "Just what do you think I am? I would not hurt Luna, if you're to project any of your own traits onto me in an attempt to hurl these wild accusations, please try to make them more believable ones."

I paw at the ground with a forehoof again and spare no defiance in keeping my glare unwavering. "That 'student' of yours isn't anything to be too proud of. You don't need magic to control somepony's mind, Celestia. Such an impressionable child that you found. With a mark like that, if you kept her 'pure' and implanted the right ideologies in her you'd be able to groom a Spark of Magic easily. Shelter her a bit. Feed her lies. Give her all the right books and call them gifts. Tell her exactly what she 'needs' to know and none of what she doesn't."

"You're mad, Sombra. I honestly think you should be locked away, and the key, tossed or destroyed."

"There's nothing honest about you, but your little pawn isn't going to believe that. She's going to believe exactly what you tell her and nothing you don't. She wants to please you above all else. My, my, Celestia, you certainly killed her with kindness! I don't think there's much of the child even left in there any longer. You've created the perfect, productive, fit, meaningless, happy member of society, and it's completely sickening."

"Don't you dare talk about my student like that!" While it wasn't a real surprise, getting her to raise her voice at me wasn't the most probable of reactions I could get from her. "You think that her loyalty - any loyalty at all - is the product of brainwashing."

"I might, but hers is clearly incredibly misplaced. How often did she get to visit her family? I hear ponies like those."

Anger actually showed on her face, but in moderation, and the look in her eyes darkened. "You think that the generosity that I gave her by gifting her with the things she loves and expecting nothing in return was a hoax!"

"You gave her exactly what she craved to keep her devoted to you, and exactly which resources she needed to understand and be filled with whatever perspective you wanted. What you did was nothing short of programming her."

"She's a pony, not a machine! I would expect you to know nothing of that, and the things that it takes to be a ruler! None but you and the worst of this world would look at my relationship with my dear student and try and falsely dash all that kindness into the ground."

"Kindness that was measured, timed, and all according to plan. She got to live in your castle grounds with you. Brutal honesty means more than any kind lie could ever, and your gilded cage may have had the door unlocked, but that never stops it from being a cage, nor does it mean that she'll ever open that door. She was dependent on you and you were likely dependent on her. That was your 'kindness' and it's about as fake as the smile you always manage. Dependency isn't kindness, and at the root of things, that's all your relationship was, wasn't it? You needed her, so you trained her, praised her, smiled upon her, and used her."

"I. Did. Not. Use. Her," Celestia says in a low, scolding tone, that most ponies would find chilling as she carefully stresses each word while her mane flicks threateningly. "The bond I have with Twilight Sparkle is a happy one and we have shared many laughs together. I don't know how you were ever informed about anything regarding our relationship, but you know nothing about a multitude of things on the subject, and have the audacity to assume you have a right to speak on the matter."

"I have the audacity alright," I say with a manipulative, cruel smirk flashing under my hood. "And I have the same audacity to ask you this: Did you laugh because you meant it or because you were supposed to?"

"That is enough. What are you going to accuse me of next, Sombra? Do you find this fun? Just baselessly slandering ponies?"

"It's hardly baseless. I was just going to add that you never had the honesty to make anything you did toward Purple Eyesore mean anything."

"That isn't her name!"

"Honestly, Celestia," I said, smirking insolently, "that might as well be her name. Twilight Sparkle doesn't seem to be somepony who is anything but the outline of an idea that you snatched up and rewrote as soon as you got your hooves on her."

There was genuine anger in Celestia's eyes, but it was still so smothered under something else. The harsh warmth coming from her had an audible sizzle to it now, but the magic in the air also felt stiffer from magic being suppressed in such a small area.

"Just what do you think it takes to be an esteemed, loved pony like Twilight Sparkle? What do you think that you'll need if you wanted to be something so respectable?"

I chuckled, but not warmly. "A lobotomy and some wings should cut it, and maybe some purple dye if I want to ruin myself, but if I'm to imitate her, I'm going to have to smash any dignity that I have, which I refuse to do."

"I don't appreciate your crude attempts at humor. Now, is that you you had to say? Before you had caught my attention with your strange magic, I had others who deserved my attention far more than you will ever."

"Your attention is more of a curse than anything, and whether you appreciate my humor or not isn't going to stop me from doing what I please."

"How selfish of you." Celestia's expression was twisted with disgust. "Has it ever crossed your mind to help somepony else even once? Does nothing but selfish pride reside in you?"

I shrugged facetiously. "There's always more to me if you'd bother to look, and if I'd ever let you see."

"'Let'," she repeats, shooting me a stern look. "Will you ever ceased being so entitled and stop your foolish displays of power?"

"My power is mine and mine alone. There's little you could ever do to rein it in or limit it, and what you might've done through imposing laws is just something else for me to bend, break, disregard, and ignore altogether. Do you want to try and make yourself sound vaguely intelligent again? I might humor you with something more than the presence of my esteemed self this time around." I sighed and flipped my hood off with a disinterested toss of my mane. "Or, I might not."

Celestia's muzzle wrinkles and the anger ebbs out of her expression and softens to an even more disgusted look. "One day, you will fail, and fall because of yourself and everything that you have refused."

"I'm sure I will," I say, rolling my eyes. "Perhaps that's what you're latest dreams have been about? Omens and signs regarding me? I can't say if I'm flattered or creeped out by you dreaming about me. Mostly the latter. Spare me the sordid details, if you're to spare me anything at all. Have you talked to somepony recently? Seen a therapist, perhaps? Asked somepony to kiss your ass to restore whatever you have in terms of self-confidence? Personally, I'd recommend just shoving a cactus-"

"Don't you hear yourself speak?" Celestia gestures at me with a forehoof like a gilded idol would to, well, a demon.

"I do, but the real tragedy of this is that I have to hear you too. Could you do me a favor and cut out your tongue? It's not so hard, I'll stick around to watch and give you some encouragement by cheering with all the enthusiasm I can manage in your presence. When you're done, I might even conjure a bandage for you to patch up the rest."

The way that Celestia was staring at me, dumbfounded. "Did you... Did you really just say that to me?"

I gave her an utterly flat look and spoke with an even grumpier, flatter tone. "No, I was singing you the highest praises."

She just frowned. "I have the most unfortunate feeling that I shall be hearing more about you in the near future."

"You might even be unfortunate enough to see me too," I say with a smirk, "but we both know that Luna is going to be seeing a lot of me in the future."

Celestia gives me a humorless look. "I don't know what it was that you did that was able to win over my sister and convince her to open up to you in any way to the point where she would not mind kissing you when around others-"

"I also slept with her in Germaneigh."

My expression stayed mostly disinterested, if a bit smug, but what could you expect from me?

Celestia's did not. Her jaw fell. She sucked in breaths and her pupils narrowed to pinpricks that showed only shock. I looked her straight in the eye and saw her coat pale. She was absolutely mortified.

"L-Luna..."

The heat around us - the magic that had been shimmering in the air - intensified so that the suddenly sweltering surge of sensation started to cause my spell to dissolve slightly. 

"..and you..."

I grinned with all the smugness fitting to associate with my name and much, much more. "It was an experience," I said, as I backed away from the goddess, her composure cracking spectacularly as she stared beyond me, imagination running rampant and what were the implications of the words I had mislead her with.

After all, what better to mislead a liar with then the truth?

I smirked again as I stood at the edge of the floating pavilion of the Pantheon in the still-blurry world. Crimson aura glowed on my horn again as the clarity of our surroundings started to resume.

Two steps backward would be all that it takes for me to fall.

"Celestia," I said carefully. her attention snapping to me as I gave one last rakish toss of my mane and a smile too arrogant to suit another, "there's still one thing that I forgot to add."

Anger flashed in her eyes like dying embers and her chest heaved with the emotion she still tried to keep locked tight.

"What?" she hissed.

"Bite me."

I took those two steps, and as I fell, my cloak billowed around me. The last thing that Celestia saw was the glow of my magic on my horn, lit and ready to take me to Canterlot and two unmistakable crimson eyes that could never belong to a pony knowing all too well that I was victorious... and I couldn't wait to see Luna, and I'm sure that was what showed more than anything; if Celestia saw it at all, she would never acknowledge it.

And about all this? All of everything that has transpired on this journey?

I suppose I'd do it all again.
> Epilogue: Two Against Eternity
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Twilight Sparkle:


A good way to describe the way I felt would be 'heavy'. Since I had returned home to Ponyville I had felt as rooted to the place as the castle itself.

Things had been a bit hectic at first too. Pinkie's homecoming party for Rarity and I had been just perfect! And, yes, it was pretty out of control too and maybe just a bit overwhelming, but to be together again surrounded by Spike and the girls... it was overwhelming too, and great. I was all teary-eyed and Rarity had to bring out her fainting couch... oh, it was something. Our journey had simply been so harrowing, and it was so lonely to only be able to talk with everypony through letters on the Celestial Divide. I was always worrying about something happening or somepony else.

Sometimes, I have these weird nightmares - they're just strange flashes of something in an otherwise dreamless slumber - where there's these rows of bookshelves that stretch up, up, up and it's very dark. Too dark. I'm never able to see the sun at all.

Despite how rare they've been, I still wake up feeling scared and with a cold sweat forming under my tidy bangs.

I wish things would hurry up and be tidy again. I'm sure everypony else does too.

My forehoof swipes out and grabs the topmost envelope from the pile of mail sitting on top of the cutie map. Unlike most of the others, the sender is familiar and isn't requesting specific help with a friendship problem - it's from my favorite pen pal, Starlight!

I'm tempted to tear it open right now and start reading about what Glimmy and her wife have been up to in the months my mail spent accumulating, but I'm afraid I can't; it's already late spring and that means that with all these... disorderly, chaotic, and sometimes even annoying grand adventure-quests have put something as important as maintaining order in the Castle Harmony behind schedule!

So instead, I grabbed a duster in the bucket of cleaning tools next to my throne after tossing down the letter, and I stood up and got to work. I could hear the distant sound of Rarity singing snatches of a Sapphire Shores song from somewhere in the castle. Even without the rest of the music, the catchy pop-iness of the song still traveled through the pastel purple crystal halls with ease. Spike was probably with her and working to keep Owlowiscious from getting too enthusiastic about his first chance to participate in the spring cleaning of my castle.

I pause my dusting and prick my ears forward to catch something that certainly isn't Rarity singing... it's a couple loud calls of 'hoo'.

Okay, so maybe Rarity will help him out.

I return to my dusting and find myself smiling. I don't know why, I just am, and ignore the feeling of my mouth curved into a perky grin. Levitating my duster higher, I resume my work and try to keep my thoughts from roaming too much. Outside of plans and organizing, or when I want it to happen, roaming thoughts are not enjoyable at all.

Today is a good day. Princess Celestia raised the sun, and Princess Luna lowered the moon. Coincidentally, there isn't a cloud in the sky today. Cliche, perfect, and normal. Pleasant.

I had breakfast with Spike and Rarity. She's finally thinking about moving in. We're going to have dinner with Applejack today and the Crusaders had something 'top secret' to show Spike in their clubhouse.

It's all so normal, and I love it. There's no unpredictable events, no unaccountable factors, and no danger. I don't have to worry about risks, just the books that I'm shelving and if there's anything a little troubling in the letters, especially if Sunny's been up to anything weird on the other side of the mirror.

Yet, nothing will be out of the ordinary. They're friendship problems.

There's going to be no surprises.

I've been so relieved to get back into routine. Ponyville is always so welcoming. Here, the sun is shining. There's no stormy seas or unexpected reasons to step outside my door that could lead to true danger.

I didn't have to worry about adventures, but that heavy feeling never left.

Pausing my dusting, I examined the way the crystal facets of the castle's crystal walls split and distorted my reflection.

A lot still felt wrong. So much happened that didn't add up, and even more that didn't make sense. Princess Luna was upset and left even though Princess Celestia cares about her so much and all of Equestria loves her, she just ran off because of some kind of emotional instability.

Somehow, Sombra knew. They must've met up. I'm not sure, but they went together. 

Luna, a depressed mare who just needs some friends and ponies to look out for her and get her to open up, and Sombra, an unstable and violent sociopath who has little to no understanding of empathy and can't function properly...

They...

The duster clattered to the floor.

Why him?

Somehow, they were able to evade both the Celestia Divide and Pink Sunset... because Cadance was in contact with them... and...

Luna loves Sombra, or at least, she thinks she does. She probably thinks that she can change that horrible, horrible pony - if there's anypony in the world that I actually hate, it would be him - and he's not even a pony at all. He's something worse.

Twisted ponies can be dealt with. Some of them can even be helped, like Starlight and Trixie, who were deterred from their selfish, hurtful, and prideful ways... but Sombra?

He hasn't changed at all! I swear, if this was a game...

...It almost feels like I've lost something. Luna was afraid of love... and the one she chose to attach to ended up being Sombra.

I don't understand how even with Cadance's help, they managed to get as far as they did without friendship, harmony, and good to guide them. Everything they did was fueled by deceit, stepping out of line, and horrible, horrible pride.

They didn't win by uniting. They shouldn't have won, and they managed to... I don't understand how or why. They even got kicked out of the Pantheon for gods' sakes!

...And from what I've heard from Canterlot, Luna refused to leave Sombra. Princess Celestia sent me a letter saying that they had a little talk - gosh, there's been so many talks and letters since all this has ended - and she kindly suggested they split up, citing perfectly logical reasons why nopony should ever be in a relationship with him... especially since he's a monster. She was kind about it, and gentle, and... Luna refused them all.

It really doesn't make any sense. Princess Celestia has noted that she seems happy about it too, that she chose to stay, and there's no dark magic involved in keeping her like that.

None of it makes any sense. Every bit of this feels so unfair. Luna deserved to be helped. Did Harmony fail? Harmony doesn't fail. Why hasn't Sombra been defeated? He's the villain in this story, and not one like Discord or Starlight, who just needed to be shown friendship and change their ways... Sombra has refused all of that countless times, and is cold and heartless.

Princess Celestia can't be doing too well, not with this happening to Luna. I must confess that I'm not doing too well either. I'm certain things would have been different if all my friends had come along. Maybe if we had borrowed the Elements, we could've really saved somepony who needed it. Everything would be as it should be, and the sequence of events... well, it would make sense.

Sighing, I sat on the floor. This just hasn't happened before. Harmony unites ponies and helps them banish things like pride, greed, divergence, and all the things that would keep us from being what we are. Luna has been ignoring those lately, and I fear Cadance has been too. The both of us were taught under Princess Celestia and she's nearly tossed all her teachings away, losing the guiding light that has been with us both from such a young age, especially in my case.

What could Sombra possibly be telling her? I'd have believed her if there'd been mind magic involved, or some other dark art that had steered her to him and simply needed purged. Instead, there wasn't any. She's listened to him willingly. I saw them talking together at the Pantheon and she even hugged him like he was an old friend. She hugged a vicious murderer like he was an old friend and it was so... I felt so crushed watching it. Cady is my sister. We have so many memories and our sunshine dance... and I saved her from Chrysalis... there's so much that brings us together. 

What does she have with Sombra? He's tried to kill us and those we love. He's an unnatural abomination. He's kidnapped us. He's violated the most basic ethics and says the most outrageous things. She's had to seen how terrifying he is when he's angry and how abusive he is when he tries to interact with others. 

I even heard he's a recluse. Not the kind that just studies like Moondancer or I before we had exposure to how great friends really were, but the kind that removes themselves from society, the truest definition there is. I know that Sombra must be mentally ill. If he were a pony or anything like one, he'd have a healthy nature and good social habits without the need for any help. Even when my muzzle was stuck in a book that the princess had given me, I was always acknowledging Shiny, the princess, Spike, or somepony who might have just done me a favor, like a guard who might a hold a door open. Sombra never does that. He goes out of his way to avoid ponies and spite them, which is wrong.

I'm up everyday trying to help ponies locally or abroad with their friendship problems. The cutie map has been sending everypony on any place that's remotely far-flung less and less. There's destinations to worry about, not journeys, which is a relief. My friends and I find ourselves on diplomatic trips and proper errands more often. There's real ponies with real problems that need our help and could use a kind word and helping hoof, not chaos, brutal 'honesty', their lives thrown in disarray, wild adventures, and princesses who can't bother to be the face of the public and just say 'hi' to the everypony.

The words that should be spread are Celestia's. As a filly, they guided me alongside her. Even then, she tried to push me toward friendship and all sorts of good things. I didn't refuse to listen to her - I wouldn't have stayed her student if I did that - but matters involving friendship conveniently slipped past me until I moved to Ponyvile.

Sombra's words shouldn't be treated the same as Princess Celestia's. They're dangerous, but he's not something that should be silenced automatically. Ponies should be able to see why they shouldn't listen to him.

The things he said to be back at the Pantheon keep bugging me. They're the exact opposite of what Princess Celestia has taught me, and yet he acted like he was the honest one.

Princess Celestia has been there for me most of my life. She's seen every success and been there for so many of my failures. It was the princess who helped me when I was hurt and pushed me toward goals. She instructed me and told me what to discover and what I should learn. It was her who stuck around when I was doubting my lessons and directing me where I could have failed. She was the one who arranged for Moondancer and the others to be my friends. I strove to impress her in every way. Princess Celestia is a hero and I have every reason to listen to her.

Other ponies should too. There's hardly a pony in Equestria who grows up without hearing some of her famous sayings - they helped capture the values of Harmony and Equestria. How often had I heard about the wonders of friendship and had her words  - things like 'Happiness is in other ponies' - said around me and just kept on reading? Ponyville opened my eyes to these things, and to the evil that was in the world: evils that Sombra practically embodies!

If Luna had talked to ponies a thousand years ago, Nightmare Moon wouldn't have happened. Since Luna was the only one who thought something was wrong, and the majority of ponies disagreed with her - including her own sister- her stand on the fictitious issue can be disregarded entirely: she was the problem, not ponies. If Discord had adapted to society instead of destroying it, he wouldn't have been turned to stone. Sombra's existence could have been avoided entirely if his summoner had been locked up for the rest of his natural life. Starswirl would have been a real hero if he had served others. Starlight Glimmer wouldn't have been driven to do the things she has done if she had accepted the outstretched hooves of others earlier. I know Trixie's pride wouldn't have driven her to obtain the Alicorn Amulet if she hadn't been a lonely traveler and instead lived healthily among ponies.

So much disaster could have been avoided if these things had happened and dangerous choices had been removed from ponies' hooves. If things like friendship had been realized instead of shunned, there'd be so many better things happening. 

I kicked a hoof at the feather duster. I want to stop things like that from ever happening to anypony else, and to do that, I just needed to make sure that the one thing that wasn't in the lives of everypony that was hurt before was offered to all of the ponies here today: friendship!

With friendship, plagues like pride and indifference could be stricken down. I was already excited about my duties spreading friendship to other ponies, but what if I turned it into a devotion? I could write pamphlets and draw charts!

There was always more to do!

This wasn't an end, all of this was a beginning. It was almost like a new era was dawning, and one where Sombra would finally fail at the hooves of many. There were no more adventures to be had for me. I was going to settle down once and for all. I was going to be the princess that Equestria needed me to be. I had a lovely marefriend, a faithful assistant, the kindest mentor, and the best friends that a pony could ask for.

All the building heaviness seemed to dissolve under the possibility of no surprises. This was the life I wanted to be leading.

I lit my horn and levitated my feather duster and resumed dusting, ignoring my reflection. I had time to kill.



...




Cadance:



The Crystal Express finally pulled to a stop with a loud screech that managed to echo all the way to my car. Outside, the plains of Mustainia became still under the enormous sky. My breath was shaky as I rose from my seat, grabbing my saddlebags in my magic and nodding to the two guards with me to remain here. The faint chill as an effect from the chilling enchantments that kept the car's interior to the liking of me and the Crystalline guards whistled by as I pulled down a window. Fresh, pure prairie air rushed in, thick with the strong scent of foreign grasses and their healthy, rugged fragrance. It was so strong that when I gasped at the strength of it, I could feel the smell tickle the back of my throat and stick too it.

This far down south, the sky felt like an infinite, omnipresent force. The buffalo revere it in its own right, like an honorary god. Their kind are far more populous here, alongside the ponies who call themselves Mustangs as I call myself Crystalline-Equesrian. This is the ancient home of the minotaurs. Throughout my trip here - one that's taken me away from my northern empire for months - I've heard stories about mountains higher than Canterhorn being reduced to dust long ago and buried cities that had districts that could turn likes a clocks gears, buried under all this prairie. 

The part about the sky has an ominous truth to it, like I'm just floating in its entirety. Everything here is so limited compared to the big blue sky with endless winds that threaten to tear my floppy sun hat from me. I almost have to force myself to restrain from marking myself out of respect, even if the same winds threatened to snag my cute designer sunglasses right off their little necklace at a rest stop a few days ago.

No matter how many clouds are in this sky, it never feels like enough. I look up to see the sun, but even it feels lost in this vast blue. Auntie Luna would love to see how numerous the stars are out here. It doesn't even feel like there's a horizon.

I don't know how true it is. I've really just been passing through and seeing some sites and heading toward the fringe of this country's central territory to see somepony. While I haven't spotted any digs - sometimes I like to bury my muzzle in a beauty magazine on long trips like this - there's occasional ridges that look like leftover attempts at building mountains by slapping a few large, rocky hills together in some weirdo perversion against the constant flatland and thousands of acres of farms that are spread across some portions of Mustainia.

What I do know is that they have plenty of good stuff down here... I mean, how could I not leave without souvenirs? This is a casual vacation... except for the fact that as a princess, a couple of the really chill guards are needed to accompany me from time to time. I brought those sunglasses for a reason too, and some of it has nothing to do with sunlight.

For now, they're clipped to their charm-ladden little necklace because it's pleasantly sunny today and I have a big, goofy smile on my face.

I hum a few snatches of a melody my mind is too distracted to place under my breath as I trot through the cars and out into the sunshine. I'm planning on staying for a while so the sound of my train chugging away doesn't bother me. I think I have to have some pretty serious chats with my friend. I've been working on a little defense magic since everything and I think I'm good to go, even without Shiny, my guards, two goddess aunts, and a certain aloof ally who I may have lent a small portion of my spare-of-my-spare autographed vinyls and an old gramophone to in hopes of him writing back about the wonders of alternative music.

According to those letters, he is indeed learning about what's more or less my second faith, and as I suspected, has some interest in psychedelia, which, by the gods, is so niche, I thought I'd never have anypony to talk to about it.

I'm sure that he's also keeping himself busy with his own trips - he mentions those in his letters, along with plenty about Luna - and some less than legal stuff. However, he's been kind enough to grow some grass for me on the side, but I wish he wouldn't send it in plain envelopes simply addressed to 'Pink One' in all-capital letters written in those glitter pens I got him. It's kinda rude when I'm in the middle of a meeting to have something so partially sealed just pop up in front of me... and maybe spill a little.

Other than that? Sombra is a true friend... in fact a little too true. The last time I shared any of my stash with him, he ran around lighting things on fire and started screaming to the void that he was going to murder it a thousand times over and demolish a thousand more worlds to get to it... at his tamest.

He's still a good friend. Crazy, but kinda good. Good enough.



...



To everypony around me, I feel out of place. I keep sneaking glances at the sky pressing down on me, and I have a stature above even a model. My curly bob of a mane spills out from under my sun hat and a touch of sun screen is smeared across each of my pink cheeks, like abstract globs of paint to draw attention to my casual smile. A camera hangs on the same necklace as my sunglasses.

I look around, obviously confused, and press my telekinesis on my hat to keep an unrestrained gust from snatching it. My tickets, passports, and other papers were also clutched in my sky blue aura and floating in front of me.

My personal saddlebags were adorned with a dozen jangly, beaded, neon charms. Some of them even glowed in the dark! Patches with dozens of band names were sewn on liberally and contrasted sharply with the polished crystal heart clasps. Poking out from the flaps that couldn't properly be fastened anymore were things that Twilight would be more likely to have on a regular basis than I, at least upon first glance.

Those really cool glitter pens with the fuzzy exteriors and the tassels on top, empty gum wrappers I didn't bother to throw away, tickets to ice archery events that I may have forgotten about, and double-double coupons gave way to the nasty habits I had picked up since the almost-end of the world.

Psychology.

Books on the subject poked out from the sea of partial trash. Sticky notes bookmarked pages with color codes I gave up on halfway through each pad before scribbling princess reminders and song lyrics on all of them. Scrolls were shoved where the could and arranged so that they didn't look too dog-eared at first. A lone highlighter found its way into the sun, but I quickly shoved it back when I realized it was the gross one I chewed on in secret when I was trying to look profound. It quickly disappeared among the rolled up magazines about cosmetics and beauty trends in Canterlot, a couple of sudoku sheets I was still stumped over, and an icky granola bar wrapper I didn't just want to toss on the ground.

Okay, and so maybe there were a few scribbled casual speculations about how I'm sure the new guard stallion in Car #3 was crushing on Platinum Laurel, another guard accompanying me on this trip.

I know I almost looked like a tourist. 'Almost' because I wasn't going to be annoying about asking for directions or mainstream.

I looked around again. This place was rural by Equestrian standards, but by Mustanian standards, where 'cities' were a few thousand and virtually lost among the plains? Then, this place was pretty big. Eight thousand creatures lived in Mustang City, in a country where the tallest building was six stories high, and worked in the buildings that were modest, but modern evolved soddies that spread out in an almost knowing circle, and never stretching past a certain point, like some kind of self-aware suburb.

Magic was just as common as it was in Equestria, but in the way of minotaurs, earth ponies, and buffalo who lived as the majority population. Unicorns and bovines made up significant minorities. A few ancient dragons almost as old as Auntie and Luna were known to roost in the desolate reaches of the plains.

The sound of many distant sprinklers and their enchanted hum caused my ears to prick forward, and so did the sound of a voice.

The open-air platform of Mustang City Station was fairly empty, but at the receiving booth where I would register my presence and get everything checked, a matronly minotaur cow with a crisp summer blouse and stylish reading glasses any librarian would feel a degree of envy for waved at me to come forward with a friendly smile and a sparkle in her eyes upon seeing such an unexpected tourist.

Returning the smile, I trotted forward as soon as I pulled out the last letter I received from my pen pal and peeked at the address written on it.



...



"Oh, it's just so good to see you again!" the yellow earth pony mare said. "It's about time you left that frozen north, hmm? Is it always so cold up there? It certainly was when I visited, and golly I have never felt anything like that in my life since!"

She tucked a strand of her pea green mane behind her ear as a temporary fix to where it had escaped her headband, and then, she stretched out the same forehoof to accept my saddlebags.

"Oh, no Mrs. Peachbottom I couldn't impose like that," I said with a polite, but sincere smile. "I'll carry my bags, and yes, it's usually that cold up north."

She waved a forehoof again. "We've been writing for years, Cadance! Just call me Chickadee! No professionalism needed!"
I pointed to the sign swinging quaintly in the prairie wind. It was attached to the three story building that would have looked like a sweet upper-class suburban home in any other city, architectural differences to suit the climate aside, but instead housed Chickadee's home and business, as the sign proudly advertised:





Dr. Chickadee Peachbottom, Psychiatrist





She had taken a trip to the Crystal Empire to attend a once in a lifetime event, visit a stunning empire, and so she could make observations on the mental state of the crystal ponies and how they were adjusting to their 'new temporal period'.

You wouldn't think a mare like her would know so much jargon, but our letters reveal otherwise.

Chickadee made a dismissive snort in the back of her throat. "C'mon Cadance. Chickadee or Chicky."

"Chickadee it is," I said with another smile, hoisting my bags onto my back again and stretching my slender legs a little while Chickadee fiddled with her house keys.

"So what's with the sudden interest in psychology that has been spilling through all your letters these past few months?" She turned the key again, frowning and pulling it out so she could examine it, only to look to the sky and snort before flipping through the jangly contents of the key ring to find what I assumed was the correct one.

"Okay, so I have this friend..."

"Mm-hm?" She focused on jamming the key into her door again. "And Cadance dear, I hope you like cornbread, because if you're going to be staying in Mustainia, and with me, you are going to be feasting on the stuff."

I couldn't resist a hoof pump. "I love cornbread! I hope you don't mind that I have a few Istallion family recipes written down too. With our love of cooking, I thought it'd be fun to try and be cooking buddies!"

Chickadee smiled and finally opened the door. The smell of tidy, cool, office, comfy furniture, and... chickens spilled out as I stared at a homely, but professional looking foyer.

"Chickens make the best pets," Chickadee explained. "So I hope you won't mind them. They're all such dears."

I giggled. "It'll be fine. Luna has a weird love of spiders, wolves, and cats, so I think I'll be fine."

Chickadee waggled a forehoof at me in mock-lecture mode and even propped the red reading glasses that had been hanging around her neck onto her muzzle. Her freckles crinkled with her faux-serious expression. "Girl, you better be a fan of folk music, too, because that's all I'll be playing. Now, in, in don't let the chickens out! I can't be losing such wonderful free labor to you leaving the door open like that, missy!"

I hurried inside as soon as I heard the sound of chicken feet scraping around inside a psychiatrist's office.

"Okay, but this friend I have-"

"They're a little more than odd?"

"Yeah," I said loud enough over the thud of the door closing. "I was hoping that by dabbling in this intellectual stuff with the vigor I usually reserve for new musical genres, I'd be able to understand him, and ponies like him a bit better and how they happen, since I don't know much outside of foalhood development."

Chickadee smiled and wiped her dusty hooves off on a welcome mat that simply read 'Wipe Yer Hooves' and was framed with a pattern made to mimic horseshoes embroidered hearts. Sunlight from a window lit the pleasantly dim foyer, highlighting her bright mane, freckles, and smile with no small amount of dust motes dancing around the wood paneled walls. A small collection of antiques, like weathered horseshoes, framed photos and postcards, pictures of chickens, pressed flowers and seed packets, vintage newspaper articles, and what looked like a glass case holding some kind of beat up high tech whirlygig.

"You came to the right place by going outside out Equestria, Cadance. I'm sure I'll be able to help you out if you're willing to accept some tea and cornbread while we chat."

"Oh, you betcha!" I pointed a forehoof at the oddity, ignoring the dust caking my pink hooves. "What's that?"

She blinked and readjusted her glasses. "That would be a relic I picked up on more local travels. A dig in the ruins to one of the Clockwork Cities gifted me with that little dear."

"So the stories are real?" I whispered, gasping.

Chickadee nodded. "You can admire all this while I head upstairs to the kitchen to get our snacks. Feel free to poke around a bit and put your bags in one of the guest rooms. I've got plenty of spare quilts for you to chose from. Can't have a proper house guest without letting them borrow a proper quilt."

I nodded and returned to looking slack jawed at a chunk of city the size of my face that was older than Auntie, Luna, and Sombra combined. I didn't hear Chickadee leave and go upstairs, but I heard the skittering from the neighboring rooms grow, and yet I didn't move.

I may not have heard Chickadee go, but gods know I heard the chickens descend.



...



I was surrounded by chickens.

Chickadee had brought me into a room very clearly used for her patients. Credentials and certificates hung from the dark, paneled walls, their shiny gold seals gleaming proudly alongside pictures and still lives of chickens. None of the places on each had the name of an Equestrian school, but there were a few Germane and Trottish ones in the mix.

Her floral print couch, which a pony would normally be instructed to lie down on, was currently occupied by a hat-less, necklace-free me and four chickens that sat calmly, perched around me like cats. They made small clucking noises that gave the room a weird, but cozy feel. 

A couple books from my saddlebags had been taken out and placed on the coffee table between Chickadee and I. It currently was home to a petite chicken statue, and a tea tray printed with cute chickens. A chicken shaped tea pot and tea cups adorned with chickens sat alongside a chicken-adorned sugar bowl and small, chicken-plastered pitcher of cream.

The books were very amateur , but they were all I was able to find in Equestria and the Empire. Chickadee eyed them critically through her glasses, but not as critically as Sombra would've, so I was able to hold my tea cup and plate of corn bread with ease, knowing there was somepony far more judgemental out there.

The corn bread was delicious, and the plate it was on had chickens, of course. I had fed a few crumbs to the chickens roosting on the floor, like they were creepily herding me in here.

Across the table, Chickadee scooped up a book in her hooves and examined the cover. She sat in a large chair with the same floral print as the couch. The lack of chickens was honestly a little unnerving. A notepad and very fancy looking pen were resting on the chair's arm.

"This is the best that you could find?"

I nodded. "Yep. I was already really out of my Element on this. The Crystal Empire doesn't have many books on the subject... I think there might have been an incident with one of the royal libraries, but this doesn't seem to be a common profession within the Empire, so I didn't have any of my subjects I would be able to consult, and was left heading to Canterlot and some northern Equestrian cities for resources."

"Not Trotland?"

I shook my head and took another sip of tea. "No, I haven't had much dealings with them lately, so going over there for the purpose of borrowing books from a university or library under a royal decree felt weird."

"I see." She scribbled something down after placing the book on the chair's arm. I wonder if I should discuss any of my notes with her. "And what, exactly, were you looking for, missy?"

"I have a friend who is unlike anypony I've ever met. Well, he's a little like Luna, but there's so much of him that isn't just withdrawn like she is, y'know? He's become a really good friend in these past few years... but he's somepony I don't think I could ever properly understand, and as both his friend and the Princess of Love... that just really gets to me."

"So what's so different about your friend, then?"

I swallowed and reached out with my telekinesis to slice another helping of cornbread while the chickens looked on, waiting for any crumbs to fall. "...This won't be disclosed, will it?"

"Patient confidentiality," Chickadee said with a smile that quelled my worries... but not my hunger for corn bread.

"Gotcha. So my friend? He's insane. Actually insane, not some kind of raving lunatic caricature, but he's really gone fishing, eh?"

Chickadee just proceeded to scribble something down. "Okay. 'Insane' friend? Why is he 'insane'?"

"Well, one thing about him that's weird is how he's so antisocial, which is something that I've never thought was healthy in ponies."

"Not if you've been believing what Equestria and her goddess has been wanting you to."

I blinked again. "Whaddya mean?" I said through a mouthful of corn bread.

"What do you think antisocial ponies are supposed to be like?"

I paused and chewed my cornbread thoughtfully. "They're supposed to be... really delusional and cruel. Hypocritical and unloved, but they shun both love and friendship. I think that it would be best to say that they're 'supposed to be'... wrong? Ponies like that are supposed to be changed."

"That sounds Equestrian to me, alright. It's not exactly a wonder that you can't find anything about an antisocial pony in Celestia's Equestria that isn't utter hogwash."

I stared at her and she brought a hoof to her muzzle, smiling sheepishly. "Pardon my Prancian."

"That wasn't the worst shit I've ever heard, y'know."

The chickens around us stirred with ominous discontent.

Chickadee frowned. "Language. Please."

"Sorry!" I chirped, helping myself to a half-slice of corn bread. "So what's this about Equestrian resources being hogwash?"

"Censorship, dear. Outside of Equestria you'll find plenty of resources on antisocial ponies... at least, compared to what you folks have. They aren't exactly common enough for much work to be collected on 'em, so it's a very specialized thing. So few ponies have any antisocial tendencies. What's worse isn't that Equestria will censor these things, but that the majority of the populace would never believe otherwise."

I quietly chewed my corn bread. "So, um..."

"Your friend? Why don't you tell me about him?"

I laughed nervously. "Oh gods, I don't know where to start!"

Chickadee adjusted her glasses. "How about at the beginning?"

Nodding, I closed my eyes and let the chicken filled office disappear and let my mind relax. Storytelling was something I was okay at - being a foalsitter had improved my skills a little - but I think I at least had this one covered.

"Whenever I'm upset or worried, I have found that flying is always the best thing to help relax my mind..."



...




Onyx:



Everypony told me that Tartarus was real and I was gonna go there, but I didn't listen. Now, I'm here. I know I am. It's hot.

No, it's not hot. Tartarus is not hot, it's worse. Every second I'm here makes me feel like I'm on fire. It's agonizing and sweat pours down my face. I can feel again, and I don't want to. I just want somepony else to be hurt, not me. Now, here I am on the fringe of Tartarus and it's...

Sombra always had words for these kinds of things. Most of 'em were probably made up, but he always had a way to describe things. He'd go on about things he didn't even know. He'd describe everything but the name itself and say he didn't know it. He was stupid like that, describing exactly what something was but pretending not to know the name.

I'm surrounded by this hot cave. I can't think of any other way to describe it as I stumble through. The dark rocks are sharp and hot. They cut at my hooves and I shriek when I see my bloody hoofprints. This place is unbearably loud too. Fire roars somewhere, louder than anything. I can't imagine what kind of fire is that hot. Either it sounds like screams of agony or it's really, really hot and those are screams of agony.

This pain is like Starswirl all over again, but I don't want to think about him. Don't want to. Don't want to. I don't want to.

I wish that they're screams. I wish that they're Starswirl's. I wish that they're somepony I can hurt now that I have my body back.

It feels so empty.

I just want to see somepony in pain again. I'm just stumbling through this dark place because I'm supposed to walk on, not stop and think about stuff. That's what Sombra does. I hate Sombra more than ever. I don't need a fancy way to say it. He betrayed me. He hurt me, when I'm supposed to hurt him. I was supposed to be a king and use him and instead...

Instead, I'm here...

Some of it's not sweat that's pouring down my face. There's tears too.

I'm always lost somewhere.

...I just didn't want to be alone too. Never, never, never again.

I don't want this to be like the cold place that kept pulling me apart. I could always feel Sombra somewhere there, somewhere. He was always somewhere but I never knew how to find him. It just felt like I... why did slipping away hurt? 

All those times there when I couldn't think was like eating mushrooms again. Or fever dreams, and they hurt so much.

And it was always so cold. I missed the feeling of warm blood running in my hooves or tearing into meat. I had so many horrible things I wanted to do to ponies. Sombra was under my control, and I still... ended up here.

I lurch forward and fall flat on my face, howling as the rocks cut into my coat. Were rocks always this stupid? If I kicked these ones, they hurt me instead of moving.

I want my magic back. This is all so empty. I want that dark, tempting force that was just a me who knew how to crush an entire empire of ponies. I mean, I still do. I can feel some of it still there, but it isn't the same. The dark magic isn't running through me anymore, it's just scarred me, but a good scar. I want more of them. I want it all back. I want that rush again. I want all that back. I just want everything again, and I don't care how or who would be hurt.

I don't care if I have to hurt a bit if I can have it all back. All my victims. My crown. Something other than this stupid body. I want to be a unicorn again.

Please.

Please.

Please?

I pull myself up from the ground and make the same gross sobbing noises as soon as I see how many cuts keep marking my body. Each and every one of them stings. I can feel rock-grit in some of them and it hurts so badly, just like being in that void did. 

I'm shivering at the memory even though it's so hot here. Is this what all the ponies I burned felt like? I really hope it was worse for them, that would make me happy. My legs aren't the only things shaking. This isn't the place I want to be. The ground is always shaking and changing too. Or, if I could see something other than all these horrible rocks, I could tell it was changing. Here, I could only feel it.

Why did Sombra leave me?

Why did he leave me here?

How?

I want him back. I want to be the little thing rooted inside him that knows that body so well and could hurt it in so many ways without feeling the pain. I want to feel him have his panic attacks again and push his limits. I want to twist him up and break him inside. I want to mine deeper into his mind and hurt him. I want to finally break the barriers that he managed to hold and see every stupid little thing he's done and throttle and twist each memory of his.

He was already less than my slave, but I want to make it far worse for him.

I want to break him more than ever. He's the one that did this to me. I want to make him mine forever and ever. I want to hear him cry and whimper and destroy anything he's found solace in.

Out of every crystal pony, the way Sombra suffered was the best. He was the closest to me, and the most fun to take everything out on. Not being able to kill him at first felt awful... but when I realized how creative I could get, and the things I could drive him to do and how that stupid red stare could waver... oh, it was wonderful.

He was the lowest of the slaves. He was the unwilling accomplice. He was the forced test subject. He was my victim.

I want him back.

I don't want to be alone. I just want my Sombra back, and I want him to suffer all over again. He's, like, twenty now, isn't he? I want to have him for the rest of his life. I want us to be together. I want to feel how miserable and twisted up he is when he drinks and will say so, so much. I know he does, and he probably still will. That was such a horrible habit of his.

I couldn't ask for it any other way. He was a bag of vices, and I just wanted to stuff him full of all the ones he refused. I want him to make me happy again. I want my Sombra back so I can take everything from him. I want to restrain him more than any chain could. I want to see his face when nopony will believe him. I want my monster back, not because I don't want ponies to persecute him, but because I want to persecute him myself, because compared to me, ponies will show my monster mercy.

I don't want my Sombra to run anymore, I want to catch him because he has always been mine.

Everything inside of him I want to pull out as painfully as possible. Every memory of a stupid question or another night spent staring at the stars and poring over books, I want to rip from him.

He made me happy, and I should be happy. If something brings me happiness like that, I'm not going to ever think about it being wrong. I won't think about it at all, I just want it.

Standing here, shaking and alone, I just want my Sombra back. He's a monster anyway. Nopony else wants a piece of shit like him, and at least I'll always be able to remind him about how useless he is. Sombra is my weapon. He's my toy, and I'll break him if I want to.

Can't I just hear his scream and see those angry eyes one last time?

No. Forever. Can't I have my Sombra back forever? I want to whisper all the things that made his temper burst to him and had him cowering. He needs to have the knowledge of just how obviously unloved he is forced on him. I want him to be scared again.

I want my toxic creation back, and I want him to know that he'll never be getting away from me ever again. Nopony will talk to him other than cursing him. He could never be loved or cared for. I want to buck in his confidence and crack it so I can watch it fall.

I want him to feel all the worst things. He needs to have me slithering around again, pulling at his mind and his magic. Sombra needs that crown forced on him again because it's more damning than any collar could ever be. That crown was mine, and so was Sombra. He's my weapon and my victim, and I don't want him to ever know differently.

And instead of Sombra, I get this stupid cloud following me around. It isn't even a cloud, but it isn't anything like any fog I've ever seen. Whatever it is, it can't decide if it wants to be purple or blue. It sparkles like the stars on a dark night, and I hate dark nights. It's almost the same size as me.

It's not fair. None of this is.

I don't know if I should be afraid of this floating thing, but my knees are knocking anyway, which smudges the blood from one set of cuts onto the other.

I wish it had eyes so I could rip them off or drive something through them. This dark, reddish place probably has a sharp rock lying around somewhere.

"H-Hi?

It doesn't do anything because it is stupid.

"C-Can I hurt you?"

It floats.

"You're fucking useless."

It still floats.

"Go away."

It doesn't and it keeps floating and I hate it.

"I hate you."

Does it do anything but float?

"Are you a fart cloud or something?"

It floats a lot.

"Can you die?"

I'm bored.

"Uh... go kill yourself?"

It won't stop floating in place.

"Please?"

It does a dumb loopy thing that Sombra used to do in snowdrifts, except Sombra would always make these dumb trilling-shadow noises when he did this, and it was so stupid. He couldn't just learn to possess snow to do something useful, he'd whirl around in circles and make dumb noises. It's snow, and it's freezing cold. Why would somepony as stupid and grumpy as him play in it?

"I HATE YOU, YOU STUPID PIECE OF MAGIC SHIT! GO AWAY!" My voice still cracks when I scream but I pretended it doesn't and that I don't sound like a little filly. At least I'm getting better at screeching louder.

I miss Sombra. I miss hurting him. He had a horrible sense of humor, his mane was ugly, he never smiled, he made dumb growls, and his arrogance made him fun to abuse.

I'd trade this weird vapor thing for him. To punish the cloud thing for its retaliation, I smack it after walking toward the thing. It just does a cloud thing and my hoof sinks through some of it, which is gross.

"Eww! Eww! Eww!" I shriek, pulling my hoof out. Seeing nothing on it is nice. "You're dumb," I inform the starry fog beast.

It doesn't do anything other than make dumb cloud ripples. I wish it was Sombra because Sombra felt fuzzy, especially in winter and even if it was dumb and I hated when he got his winter coat, there was that dream...

...Yeah, I wanted to stab him, and worse, but he was fuzzy. I've never hugged a pony since... umm, the orphanage. I'd hug the other foals before kicking them and pushing them down and laughing at them. When Starswirl wanted me, I gave him a real hug. Sure, I tried to hug him tightly to make him feel uncomfortable because that was nice, but I didn't give him one with the intent to hurt him, which was boring.

I wanted to hurt Sombra in way worse ways, but his fuzziness was better than the funky smoke thing, even if he does this dumb thing with his tongue sometimes. I'd caught him poking his tongue out and holding it like that from time to time, but it was just another reason to do what I wanted because any kind of behavior could be a misdeed if I wanted it to, and I got to punish misdeeds.

Instead of giving the smoke-creature any more attention, I turn around and keep walking. I know that it's floating behind me, but I press on, feeling more exhausted, hungry, and alone with each step.

Ignoring the cloud is easy, and so is ignoring everything else other than the screaming heat, pain, and some other things. Everything looks the same here, just like it did up north, so I didn't have to pay attention to anything beyond not tripping.

Missing Sombra was an ache that wouldn't go away, just like the cloud. I wanted to get him back. He was made to be mine, and mine forever. Sombra wasn't going to get away with this. I owned him. I could find him and get my revenge.

I smiled at my next thought. I could hurt him again.

In my sudden happiness, I tripped again and screamed. The high pitched sound was lost, but the sharp pain from the scrape on my front right knee wasn't. The wound was deep for the minor tumble that I took, and blood was already flowing. Nearby, a sharp rock shorter than my foreleg but longer than a typical stone gleamed with the freshly spilled blood.

I quickly scooped it up in my hooves. If I held it in my mouth, I could actually use this as a weapon. It was sharp enough that if I bludgeoned a pony a little and then did some work with the point, they'd have their head bashed in soon or a leg crushed. Both thoughts made me shudder with delight. I'd gone far too long without hurting somepony and wasn't about to ignore this want any longer.

First, I looked at the amount of blood collected on my newfound weapon, while the magic cloud following my floated nearby. The sight of blood after so long was comforting and a reason to be cheerful, even if it was from an accident like this. I licked the blood of the rock and sighed. It wasn't meat, but it would do.

Ponies aren't supposed to eat it. They can't even eat it. It makes me sick to eat it and ingest things like blood, but I love the act of it. Knowing that I'm hurting something and tearing it up unnecessarily for the sake of it was amazing. If Sombra hadn't gotten in the way of so much, I would've tried to eat ponies. He had fangs, and the stomach for eating meat. He didn't have to be 'reduced to it'. He was even scared of eating it and repulsed by it.

But me? Forget taste or anything, none of that mattered. If I could tear some kind of creature apart and dismember them, then the experience was so rewarding and  irresistible. To hurt ponies in all the worst ways was a temptation that there was no point in thinking twice about or resisting.

I tried to catch some of the blood running down my leg and get a taste of that too. I wanted it to be somepony else's blood, but here I was, alone. That wasn't possible. I wanted that, and I'd find somepony else... somehow.

But for now, I'm stuck with this, and the salty, metallic taste.

Resuming my journey hurt. There was no way to tell how much time passed and how far I went into this cave. The expanse of jagged, dark rock just kept going. I followed the heat and didn't question my path because that wasn't a good choice. I just kept going, and I wasn't sure for how long, but the cloudy creature kept tagging along, like a shadow would. There were so many shadows here.

My wounds itched and stung. Sometimes, I'd re-open one or two with the blade-like stone that I found and tell myself over and over again that I could do this to somepony else, but worse if I just waited. It just ended up hurting more and I cried.

Really, that's it.

One of the cuts really hurt when I stretched my leg. I couldn't see it, but it was on my left hindquarter. Everything here was a mess of shadows that hurt my eyes. I wanted to see sunshine again. I couldn't see myself, but I knew I looked pale and skinnier than usual, and was marked with cuts and scrapes in the way that Tribal ponies were marked with pox. My coat was dirty and grimy, but I didn't mind that. My mane and tail were just as tangled as I remembered. Even my teeth were exactly as I remembered before I cast the spell. One of the three that was finally rotten enough to be loose fell out yesterday. Or last week.

I don't remember. I can remember things like my life before the banishment clearly, the dark void in pieces of overwhelming nightmarish clarity, and seeing Sombra in the woods a few times, and meeting Selene once.

I missed Sombra so much. 

I slept here, but it was always fitful and dreamless. When I did have dreams, it was in the forms of nightmares about Starwirl and the dark place, and I'd wake up thrashing, screaming, and crying, despite how vague they felt.

The cloud didn't stop following me. If I closed my eyes and tried to stop the ache in my head, I could imagine hurting Sombra, and I kept going.

One day, I heard a sound that had me grinning like a fool.

From a dark cluster of stone that stank of the same unbearable heat everything else here reeked of, there was the sound of a mare sobbing hopelessly. This was the sound of resignation that sent shivers down my spine. She'd lost everything, there was no hope.

Even better: the sound of her voice was familiar.

I trotted over and scrambled up the stone, my makeshift stone knife gripped in my mouth. Using one forehoof, I pushed my sweat drenched forelock out of the side with a wet, audible flick and looked down at the mare who was cowering on the ground.

What was left of a mare.

The broken corpse of a mare I know far too well wallowed about in the dirt. Her tattered cloak and blood-matted curls did little to hide who she was from me. All signs of her skin were hacked, cut, and scraped away, leaving no cutie mark or coat, but her identity was plain to me, after all, she was a particularly famous piece of work from when I was in such a gleeful mood.

Her bony, ghostly, grisly forelegs were wrapped above her head and rotting ears in an attempt to protect herself from something.

"Hi!"

Her sobs were suddenly filled with a gasp too as she lifted her head and stared straight at me. Her hollow eyes were wide with fear and her fiery pupils flickered with terror and she stared at me with her mouth hanging open.

She sniffled and lowered one hoof the ground. Something had been laying under her, something I also knew. When I was king, I wanted to try and use them for power.

Laying under her mauled chest was the Ice Star.

Opal Charm stared at me. "A c-colt?"

"You betcha!" I grinned at her, and a sad smile almost made its way across her muzzle, but it died, replaced by a scared, sad look.

"How did you get here, little one? Did the wicked usurper, Mi Amore Cadenza, send you here?"

My smile slipped a little and I blinked. "Uhh... who?"

"A pink mare with both wings and a horn, but not a true goddess."

I nodded anyway. That sounded kind of right. Or right enough, even if I didn't care, I was eyeing the Ice Star instead. "Yah. Her."

Opal still looked confused. "How young you must've been when you died. You would know so little of the reign before the sadistic King Sombra."

"That's him alright. Nothing but sadistic, merciless, and vicious." I grinned again, but Opal looked at me funny.

"Was he the one that killed you? Did Cadenza expel your spirit from the Empire?"

I shook my head back and forth rapidly, which caused my sweaty mane to make a dumb sound. "King Sombra didn't kill me."

"Oh, then who are you, dear?" 

Still smiling, I scooped up my new weapon in my mouth again and looked right at her, the right of my mouth curved higher than the left, and my next words still clear before I pounced:

"I'm the King."



...




Sombra:



It was nearly dusk. The sun was already lowering over Canterlot and shadows grew longer in the dimming light. Wind whipped by the mountain, ruffling my mane and carrying the warm scent of summer. 

My cloak billowed dramatically around me as I stood out and looked down at the city below me. With Fate stored in my pocket realm, which was anchored in its old spot again, the cloak's movement was even more wild. I watched as the glow of werelights that lit up the city at night alongside torches and lamps grew steadier. Magic emanated from all around, and I couldn't help but tilt my head up to enjoy the evening's strong breeze as it combed through my dark mane and the scruffy last remains of my winter coat.

The snowy tops of lesser peaks stretched out into the distance, cupping the sinking sun. Valleys and grassland below were already darkening. Thick clouds blew across the sky, forced into new shapes by the wind.

My scars would still itch under my cloak, but I didn't pay too much attention to them. The sound of splashing water caused my ears to prick backward in the direction of Fish's new pond. He must be catching some of the bugs that had been flying too close to the surface of the water - I felt their minor presences vanish and heard the wet gulp that belonged to Fish. Between bugs, potato chips, pizza crusts, and worms I wasn't exactly sure what to feed him, and he still seemed to get by.

I had just woken up a few hours ago and was disappointed to see that my experiment with freezing leftover pizza slices hadn't gone as I'd anticipated. Breaking the ice with three swords and a couple fireballs went as planned. Fish ate well today, and the ungrateful glutton still is gorging himself on insects.

The softer glow of the moon was already rising above the horizon and I sat back on my haunches to enjoy the sight of it. Luna would be here in an hour or two, ready for our first date.

I was curious if she had a favorite disguise in mind and just how much of herself I'd be able to see mirrored in the form of a mortal pony that nopony else would look twice at. Seeing how well we know one another, it'll be too difficult not to see telltale things bleed through and everything between lines stand out the most. The light in her eyes will never change, and her smile doesn't belong to anypony else. The way she looks at me isn't able to be copied, and her habit of combing through her thick mane with her hooves is something I could spot easily.

She probably has a postcard from Mustainia too. Pink One headed south almost as soon as everything settled a couple weeks ago, but promised to renew our meetings when she returns north. Of course the tabloids are still all over what Luna has to say about me. Of course every allegation, subtle or otherwise, is a lie. Of course ponies are still the plague of liars that they were before. Credit for anything that I did? The entirety of what happened over the past few months hasn't been said, and it likely never will. Instead, it's been thrown out in pieces... and largely ignored by the majority. Is that a surprise? Not in the slightest.

They don't know who I am, and barely have an idea to what I sound like. Ponies are glued to the image of the King, and I've continued to go unnoticed when I'm disguised. No pony common questions me.

Luna was swept up in duties for a while, and we kept in touch with letters. Many of them had been scribbled out between meetings and delegations and the snide remarks about the ponies she had to put up with had me smiling a crooked smile from time to time.

I like it here, but I don't always stay. The Crystal Empire isn't ever going to know me again, but maybe I'll venture to the north again one day. I only have all the time that this world will last, and while it'll shift and grow, the damn thing won't be changing one bit.

Same here. There's really nothing to suppose about something so definite. I have so much more magic to work on and to master, and so many things to learn. I'm not about to stop. I will always be stubborn. I will always be intelligent. I will always be one snarky bastard and the bluntest piece of demon and anything that'll likely ever be. My selfishness is amazingly irreversible. I'll always have a temper, and there will always be panic attacks, but I'm better than any pony; I'm Sombra and I wouldn't trade any of it, even in any moment of doubt I might have, now or from here onward.

I stay for Luna, for myself, for things to steal, and a city to explore. Stashing the amount of things I've acquired somewhere isn't the worst thing either.

But I've still been travelling. There's cities to see inside and out with my job, and all the underworlds to work myself into, surrounded by ponies and other creatures who will only know me in part. Luna knows it too, but I keep confessing piece after piece of myself to her, allowing her to know every part of me in one way or another, and that isn't going to change.

I won't stay forever. There's so many places to see and older ones to unearth. I want to cut the ruins up from this world and know every bit of them that I possibly can. All around are strange trails and lonesome places that I will see. It's only definite that I'll be there, just maybe not today.

I can't stop dreaming, but I really never did. Waking ambition and wanderlust, or nightmares I now wake screaming from, they don't stop. I don't want them to, the dreams, that is. Night terrors, on the other hoof...

I may not be able to do just anything forever, but I want to run forever.

I keep my eyes on the sky - they had never left - and I was drawn to the one sight I couldn't look away from. My horn flared brighter and with the best of the new magic I had been working on, script ran rampant across my vision and I saw red. My sight stretched and I saw the dark wings of a mare I could only describe as alluring in every way. She flew toward the mountain, searching.

My spell collapsed. She'd find me, in time. Luna always would.

I continue to look up at the dusk sky with a stubborn silence, poking the tip of my tongue out in the way that had Onyx absolutely pissed as I stared with wide pupils into the vast sky that now bore the first pale stars of night, winking into view, and the faint purplish outline of a tree painted in the sky beyond it, stretching over the world.

I stood up, expression unchanging and looked to the world.

I'm lord of it all, often ironically, and I have something to say about this lord-dom of mine, and everything that's ever happened to me and will happen in the eternity of my existence that stretched from the moment I was first spawned in that eternal second to the infinity that I will occupy.

This is what I have to say to the world, all thoughts of me of its common occupants, and everything about it, and all future worlds that will be graced with my fine, sassy, partially catastrophic presence:

"Fuck you," I hissed under my breath, tongue not retreating.

And then I moved on.