After years among the three pony tribes the Two Sisters fight their first great foe by themselves: King Sombra, the tyrant King of the Crystal Empire. Nothing goes as planned, everything, and everypony are not as they seem.
Before Luna became Nightmare Moon, there was Discord, and before there was Discord there was Sombra, the tyrant King of the North. He was the only foe who was vanquished without the Elements, but by the Two Sisters with divine magic all their own. They lost a city; it was taken by the mad king's magic.
After years among the three pony tribes, the Two Sisters fight their first great foe all by themselves: King Sombra, the tyrant King of the Crystal Empire. Nothing goes as planned, everything, and everypony are not as they seem.
Kingdoms rose and fell, and there was something long before Equestria was even thought of.
The land that would become Equestria sat empty of ponykind for years to come — and all time that passed was beyond the lifetime of six mortal generations. Only stories and gods could survive where mortals would only ever be swallowed. Some told tales of fire, but the details faded almost as fast as the ponies who told the tales.
Of all the different kinds of ponies, only three races were thought to have survived: unicorns, pegasi, and earth ponies. They found a valley and stayed there, their knowledge fading as the older generations were replaced by their offspring. They fought amongst themselves when they weren't succumbing to diseases. Magics faded and weakened as did knowledge of all kinds. Unicorns were filled only with prejudice towards the other two factions. The pegasi stratocracy eagerly disposed of their weak and dissidents of the frozen clouds in mandatory droppings. Earth ponies cried out in frenzy until they were able to establish a tyranny of the majority that they so desperately craved, electing their greatest tormenter-puppets. The valley in which they lived — where hardly any food would grow — was constantly torn apart by petty feuds as the ponies became prisoners of the frigid climate and their own ignorance. To any outsider, they were obviously digging their own grave, especially due to the toll of raising and lowering the sun and moon.
Fortunately, no outsiders knew they existed — nor did they know any did. The world of the three tribes began and ended with the mountains and encroaching storms that entrapped them, all of which were only given the final seal through the collective actions of three mediocracies.
They had long since stopped marking their graves. The earth ponies had reached the point of near-total illiteracy, preferring to dispose of their dead in unmarked pits altogether. The pegasi continued with their regimes of letting all deemed undesirables be dropped from the clouds so that the earth ponies might have compost in their fields. Fewer unicorns had any names or ornamentation to put on their lackluster family tombs. All three nations believed themselves to be alone in a flat and desolate world that never extended beyond that valley. This was all while the only creatures in the world that could have saved them from the miserable existence they led happened to stumble into the unforgiving maw of that greater valley.
Two little Alicorn fillies with snow in their manes, overgrown coats of fluff, and the newly earned marks they had gained for lowering the sun and raising the moon had come at last. Their eyes twinkled like the stars that had failed to shine for so long as they gazed upon this backward land. These two children hadn't known what had happened to the Old World — but, in their own way, each knew what they saw was wrong.
Who were they? The ponies of the three tribes wondered. Why do they speak so funny?
How can they have both wings and a horn?
We can hardly feed ourselves, they cried. How can you possibly want us to feed these brats?! What amount of labor can they do that would justify their keep?
Are they even ponies at all? They can't be; they must be monsters! Who would buy such ugly mockeries of ponies?
It was the only way they could come up with to explain the strange, animated mane of the elder, the behaviors that were perceived as improper, and the otherworldly magic the two sisters had. The latter was especially exemplified in the younger. Most of those ponies had considered teleportation to be the most advanced magic—or, at least, the few who knew what it was. Now, they were confronted with two children older than all their clans put together, who could move the heavens without succumbing to the death that claimed one hundred unicorns needed to raise and lower each heavenly body. And while they used this unfathomable power to effortlessly arrange the skies, it was evident how raw it was. The nativity of foals was always the first to approach that which wears the face of kindness — and the first to fall victim to it. Two peculiar, unpony-like sisters had this nature in abundance. This sheer lack of proper training only made them perfect for plans they could have no full reading into.
In the end, it was decided that they would be given to the Unicorn Court, so they might figure out what to do with the unwanted 'monsters' that each other tribe deemed too beastly and magical. For, to an earth pony or a pegasus, all magic was a monstrosity. They knew not the irony of proclaiming their own clear magic to be anything but what they saw in the aura displays of the unicorns and the two Alicorn sisters. It was the unicorns who had the closest to what could be called scholars in such a place where knowledge was more precious and scarce than full harvests.
So, they had the two fillies sit on a cold stone floor before the king as the nobles who held all influence shouted their 'suggestions' from the balconies. A murder of crows would have been so much friendlier to the cowering children.
"Perhaps they should be hired out, or sold more properly as the disturbed chattel they are! Somepony ought to have these uncivilized and feral bastards know what hard work and discipline are!"
Celestia hugged Luna tighter. If anypony had noticed the younger sister seemed to be a deeper shade of blue as a result, they said absolutely nothing.
"It is true! Why, just yesterday, the blue one had the nerve to smile in public at a complete stranger! I saw the whole thing! These creatures bare their teeth so savagely and have no sense of manners or what their place is!"
There were collective gasps.
Luna whimpered. She was almost indigo at this point.
"How old are they?" called out another with a prospective voice. "They might be able to be married off. Might there be some use as livestock in them? I think that the down of their feathers would be splendid for filling a pillow, if nothing else."
Celestia bit the inside of her cheek. How could the king just look on as this happened? Who would let this happen to them?! Was he not supposed to be good and heroic, the way all the ponies were in what she heard from before? She felt scared — not as scared as she was sure Luna probably was, but still frightened enough even if she couldn't let it show for fear of upsetting Luna even more.
A fourth call rang out: "Why hire both of them out when they can be separated? Think of the prices they might fetch if they are not sold as a bundle! After all, two nonsense-uttering beasts such as these are bad enough. Somepony who is smart enough would just split them up, since they shall probably develop a much more submissive temperament. Once they stop speaking and are decent enough to lower their gaze, their capacity for obedience will exceed even the most wizened earth pony house-slave. That, I can promise! I am telling you that they are a bad influence on each other."
When the young noblemare finished her sober speech, there was silence. All gazes turned toward the king, who then ordered that whoever spoke step out. There was the sound of hoofsteps as she descended from the balcony. When the mare stepped into the light, she revealed herself to have a light magenta coat, haughty stare, and a mouth curved in a permanent look of disgust. A straight pearly pink-white mane fell out from under a large silk cap with a geometric pattern that matched her ornate, ribbon-covered gown.
"What is your name?" asked the king as he stared into the mare's royal blue eyes.
"Sweet Heart," she replied tersely.
"Very well, then," the Unicorn King said dully, offering a clumsy, tired wave of his forehoof. How it still managed to carry any shred of a commanding presence was beyond the reckoning of anypony present.
He quickly summoned a nearby scribe who then wrote out the payment of gold, gems, and titles the Lady Sweet Heart was to be offered. It was then presented to her, and she smiled coldly — or at least attempted to. What came out was a disgusted sneer instead, and her eyes were tinged with greed in a land where most ponies showed only hollowness in their stares, regardless of race.
The King dismissed Lady Sweet Heart with a wave of his forehoof. Next, he summoned two guards outfitted in the Unicorn Tribe's ill-fitting and poorly crafted armor. Each suit was also crudely emblazoned with the royal family's coat of arms.
"Separate them," he ordered. All of this was done without even the slightest look in the direction of the sisters. The unicorn guards attempted to pull them away from each other's embrace using rough tugs of their thin, weak magical aura.
Celestia's frantic calls were drowned out by Luna's wailing as most of the crowd looked on, hardly even a bit of kindness to be seen in any of their eyes. All were averted to a sight that the majority of them found to be annoying and nothing more.
All this ceased when one of the guards howled in pain, clutching his unprotected foreleg. "OW! THE BLUE ONE JUST BIT ME!"
Luna scrambled back into her elder sister's waiting forehooves. The smaller filly made a sound much like sobbing that was combined with something like a wailing cough. She wanted to leave! She wanted to go home! Anywhere but here was home! At least Philomena was still safe outside! Why weren't they outside?
Young Celestia decided that she had enough. Her horn flared to life with magic she had yet to control as bursts of fire the size of shields flew in all directions, landing on tapestries and the edges of clothing, burning with not even half the fury that resided within her. Ponies started to scream. The few that weren't in a panic were hurriedly attempting to put out the flame in a land where the water came in ice and snow more than anything else. However, a few pointed in the direction of the two sisters.
Celestia was hugging Luna tighter than she ever had before and rocking her back and forth, whispering that everything was going to be okay because it just had to be okay. Privately, somewhere deep within herself, she wanted to bring these ponies home as well. This awful place could hardly ever be the home of any creature. This wasn't what the ponies were pointing at. Instead, they gestured to yet another example of the strange and awesome magic of these beings they had so hurriedly dismissed as monsters for their differences. A cloak of the elder's fire had surrounded the huddled forms of both, yet did not burn them.
Suddenly, the doors burst open and a blast of cold air snuffed out all but the protective blanket of fire, which had come close to glowing just as bright as the fire Celestia's aura had become. There was a brief, heavy silence as the hysteria ceased and a few gusts of wind blew through, ushering in snowflakes and the sound of hoofsteps.
Enter a stallion with deep-set eyes that knew only sleepless nights poring over scrolls, a flowing mane, and a mouth that conveyed only agitation and more disgust than Lady Sweet Heart could ever hope to achieve. He was clad in a belled hat and a robe that displayed the night sky close to how the two sisters remembered it. He stomped his cloven hooves, muttered something about his loathing of peasants, and swept through the hall, his lion-like tail brushing past the fillies who still sat cowering on the floor. The stallion stared the king straight in the eye and gave a rather annoying, completely unnecessary filibuster about how hard it was to get anywhere when you lived in an even smaller valley so many days away. He continued to rant on about the stupid filly with the funny-looking mane who worked for him, who couldn't deliver messages on time, and something incomprehensible about stupid peasants.
The king sat straighter in his throne and wiped the spittle that the young stallion — who was hardly more than a recent graduate of childhood-to-puberty — had sprayed in his face. This egotistical nopony was Starswirl.
That's it—just Starswirl. There wasn't much to him: he was the son of one of the noble families but cut ties as soon he was old enough to forsake them and swindle money from the peasants. Why was that? He was always loud about proclaiming that he wanted to establish his own dwelling somewhere in a remote area neither tribe controlled. Starswirl would constantly be surrounded by books even he didn't even seem all that interested in. The only reasons the court tolerated him were his noble lines, and because he knew more magic than any tribespony combined (which really wasn't much from an outsider's perspective, as others would learn).
Celestia sat spellbound, staring at his starry cloak. This stranger filled her with the greatest cascade of optimistic feelings — one that was greater than any she had in a long, long time.
Luna peeked out from between some of Celestia's feathers. She heard his speech... To her, something about him didn't seem right...
Starswirl demanded that the magical creatures be given to him. In his explanation, he said that this was so that they might be trained properly. To teach them some discipline, so they might one day conform and embrace the status quo of their new keepers. Celestia wasn't quite listening. All she heard were offers of lessons and normal life. Those promises sunk their teeth into her young mare. Magic training? For so long she hoped that somepony would educate her sister and herself. Here was a pony who, out of all these nobles, she could guarantee was literate. He also lived away from this awful court! He had to be a hero if he was promising such good things!
The court was stunned. Once again, the balconies were silent, though there were nods of agreement. Then, the absolute king himself, his royal majesty King Titanium, rose from his throne, and declared it so. Starswirl would have the fillies, and he would be their father and master combined.
Even if it meant nothing to these ponies, Celestia — who always felt like a princess even after all these years — rose and voiced her own agreement to these deaf ears and numbed minds.
...
Years later, the sisters had grown apart due to conflict and sadness until the bond they once shared was hardly recognizable as such. They refused communication and interaction. Their paths further alienated them from each other as they went in divergent directions. Starswirl, their keeper, only served to drive them apart and pit each against one another — until their sisterhood was effectively sundered through his methods of triangulation. Not a single spell was needed to warp their emotions for one another into cycles of neglect, abandonment, and sheer helplessness. The prolonged youth of the forgotten goddesses made the decades that Starswirl had with them mere seasoning for their resentment. His magical talent for subtle manipulations and conjuring skilled wards to restrict the outside world from his other, unskilled, and living wards only served to trap them further.
Soon Starswirl — now known as the elderly Starswirl the Bearded — brought another apprentice into the valley—a young colt from a far-off land none had ever heard of. His name was Onyx, and he was probably the cruelest pony to ever live. Nothing could have made him more perfect for Starswirl's menagerie of miserable creatures. Onyx wanted to return to the land he came from and seek revenge for what he thought were the wrongs done to him, even though this bad egg was the cause of his own misery. Onyx found a forsaken book of strange magic that did things no other kind of enchantment could. Every spell was powerful, often twisted and deadly. Even Starswirl hadn't discovered its true nature, though it was plucked straight from the wizard's own library. From the start, the wicked book had ensnared his all-too-willing mind.
But the greatest power then-thirteen-year-old Onyx found in the magic book was a spell he discovered years later, when the sisters were gone and Starswirl was out for a time. The book would let him change his species from a crystal pony — one whose natural magic was impaired, much to his disgust — to a unicorn.
It was what he always wanted.
With all the magic he could muster, the little megalomaniac cast the great spell and broke the greatest taboo with the dark energy. He created fully-functioning, sapient life. Onyx created a living, thinking, independent being with a soul.
He got his wish, but at great cost.
Nopony ever saw Starswirl the Bearded after that day.
Princess Luna stood alone on a cliff overlooking the Crystal Empire. Harsh winds blew around her, carrying biting flecks of ice and snow she had grown numb to over the course of the past few days. She wore no scarf or cloak. Her mouth turned downward in her customary frown, though she did not like that was so common for her. The Alicorn mare's blue coat and flowing mane were overshadowed and blotted out by the storm.
It was only when one looked closely — provided that they had good eyes — that through the snow they might catch glimpses of jagged black crystals and the orange skies that marked the days here. No mornings had really dawned in years. Each was accompanied by angry black clouds that dumped constant snow on the miserable city. It was as if the enslaved residents needed yet another reminder of their plight. All of this was the perfect atmosphere of hopelessness for a city that might as well be named Agony. Luna was almost surprised to find out that the nights were clear here. They were cold, but normal compared to the wretched weather of this silent land.
The wind howled even louder.
Well, it wasn't always silent at night. Only the wind seemed to speak here, and the silent princess lent it her ear.
She hardly seemed to breathe, such was the still stance of the goddess. For the past few days, Luna had been under the disguise of a crystal pony stallion who spoke even less than his mute brethren, partly to hide the effeminate voice that she would reveal. Even in the foreign Crystal Empire, a pony who was believed to be too shy or silent slipped from the notice of the herd mortalkind maintained. He faded into the background in all things and lingered only on the fringes as the others suffered in silence under the reign of the tyrant. In all the time Luna had begun her infiltrations, she had only caught sight of him on a stolen grand balcony, whose nature was even more mysterious than the circumstance.
But nearly every day, crystal ponies disappeared. Sometimes, these were the slaves. Other times, it was those who lived scavenging in the ruins of their once-great city. While it was normal for ponies to disappear amidst the constant mare-eat-mare inevitability of anarchy that had consumed the city, those deaths were from expected causes. Accidents, starvation, suicide, abandonment of extra mouths, drowning, ponies fighting one another, poisoning, and so forth. The ponies who disappeared all went into the castle — that was what little was known. Either way, neither of those slaves or skeletons of citizens ever made it out. Oftentimes, one of the ponies amid the ruins would find the eviscerated and brutalized remains of those they once considered kin, and they were always found with one of the most popular tools of butchery — dark gray-black crystals only one creature could produce.
Luna wouldn't have been able to help even if she wanted to—not without a home-field advantage and proper intelligence on her foe. Otherwise, she would not be able to save the maximum amount of crystal ponies behind enemy lines.
She and Celestia only knew about the previously unknown Empire's struggle because one crystal pony mare escaped this horror. Somehow, she managed to make it to Equestria. There, the United Triarchy's leaders only dismissed her like a mad babbler and directed her to the Everfree's borders, where Luna and Celestia were to take her like she was table scraps. The mare, Golden Mile, struggled to get to even the edge of the forest. She had managed to make it past the foot of Canterhorn Mountain that housed the enchanted city of stone, Canterlote, and stumbled into the plains around the Everfree Forest. Winded, emaciated, and alone, she was found by a patrol of the sisters' personal guards, then brought right into the new Castle of the Two Sisters. Golden Mile pleaded, with a raw throat and more ribs than skin as paranoia and fear burned in her eyes, that the two goddesses—who were previously unaware of the existence and plight of the hidden Crystal Empire—use their vast power to save it.
Golden Mile, who had made every hoofstep count, was spent. She collapsed in a guard's forehooves, where she died.
Eight years—that's how long this tyrant's reign had been going on.
Celestia — everypony's beloved noble — made public decree after decree of how she and her sister would save this land. More than that, Celestia added how they would help incorporate this foreign land into Equestria, as a colony of the Triarchy.
The public ate it up. Poor settlers eagerly volunteered their service for when an army would be needed. Only when Celestia pointed out the resources to be reaped did the Triarchy consider the possible conquest to be worthy of their time. The nation's official armies were readied as a third wave, to be used once the Alicorns deposed the tyrant. Luna's hesitant agreement, as with everything else about her was barely spoken, and went entirely unnoticed.
In the times when Luna and Celestia wandered the world—and the moon princess still thought of Celestia as her beloved and caring sister—Luna would act as a scout. This was due to her skills and different nature. She was still better at these tasks and in a rare vocalization—and even rarer consideration on the ever-busy Celestia's part—Luna was allowed to elect herself to scout the Empire so they might have knowledge about their enemy.
Celestia actually agreed to allow this. A great charm was wrought. Not only would Luna be in the guise of a young, washed-out colored stallion, but all her magic — with the exception of that needed to raise and lower the moon — would be sealed within herself with complex charm few Triarchy archmages could come close to mastering, due to the sheer power they would have to contain. Her magic would return and the seal would break when Luna was ready to release it.
The princess had spent three weeks here, in this gods-forsaken tainted land. It was the final day.
Her eyes flicked up to the sky, where the muted outlines of mountains stood as somber and stoic as the saddened princess among the snow. Luna felt grounded and trapped as of late. This prison-body was worse than putting a grown mare in an infant filly's gown — to throw the guise of a mortal upon a goddess was hardly different than permitting oneself to be crippled.
There was still no sign of Celestia. Surely, the second half of this counter-revolution would be here soon? It had already been six days since she received the message carried in a sunbeam and seared into a pile of kindling before it returned to ashes. It hadn't taken the young princess that long to arrive, and Celestia was already three days behind schedule.
She waited for hours.
...
There, through the barrages of snowflakes was the hint of radiant white light shining forth and framing the pure-white coat of an angelic, winged being. Princess Celestia entered from that light, her horn aglow with a golden aura and her mane and tail rushing blurs of vibrant and bright color. Her expression was instantly stern as she surveyed her dismal surroundings. When her hooves touched the mountains’ surface, the heat of her magic dissolved the snow under her. Celestia held a tattered sheath in the grip of her magic. Without so much as a glance in her sister's direction, she tossed the object towards Luna. Then, Celestia looked out at the city before them, magenta eyes brimming with concern for all the ponies trapped under the reign of such a foe. Luna's own magic caught the sheath and withdrew a familiar sword of plain silver. She slipped the correct loop on the sheath's harness over her head. It was nice to have something familiar by her side.
"I take it that this was just in case?" Luna asked, her voice low. During her time in disguise, Luna had temporarily adopted the singular pronouns of common creatures and mortalkind, as well as the smoother language used by the Crystalline citizens. Their speech was refreshingly reminiscent of the language that Luna and Celestia had grown up using, as much as the elder wished to deny that part of their life. No 'thous' and 'thees’ or other elements of the tribes' twisting, stumbling dialect could compare to the fine tongue of a lost world.
Celestia didn't answer her question. "What hast thou learned of the tyrant?"
Upon their joint coronations as ornamental Princesses of Equestria, Celestia and Luna had both combined their constant usage of the majestic plural with the common language used by Equestrians. Very rarely did they ever revert to any other speech. Luna ever felt that the downgraded dialect of the Everfree language contributed to her isolation as much as Celestia's insistence on decorum did. Perhaps one day their titles would mean more, and they would get to rule as much as Celestia's effort into polishing their pointless manners implied they did. Until that day came, the Triarchy's grip remained a chokehold on Equestria.
"Not much," Luna confessed. "He never appeared. Not where I might have found him. All I know of him is that he is mad, bloodthirsty, and sadistic, with a nature that cannot be predicted. It is said that the wind's howl is nothing more than an effect of his crazed and constant laughter. Yet, from what I do know about him, he appears to have no control over the weather. The constant storms seem to be a result of something else, or a mere side effect to his power, if they are related at all. Nor have I heard any of his fabled laughter."
Celestia displayed no visible reaction, but merely uttered, "We see." Her words were obviously reeking disappointment with what she considered to be a lack of adequate knowledge on her sister's part.
There was a brief pause between the strangers that had once been family. Yet, only Luna noted this. Her ear flicked tentatively.
"What will we do then, Celestia?" She hadn't called her Tia in many years—though for lifetimes Luna had called her nothing else.
Another stretch of silence followed until Celestia spoke. When she did, it was closer to the language variant the sisters shared in the earliest days of their youth.
"The castle will be stormed, regardless of what little knowledge our sister managed to collect. This tyrant may be in power, but he is just one mere mortal in the face of two goddesses delivering righteous judgment. We may lack a fully formulated strategy and knowledge of his strange magic, but he shall fall despite these shortcomings, as all evil must. We pray that you understand this, Luna. The cruelty that goes under the name of King Sombra will fall because there is no good in him. He is the opposite end of ourselves on the scale. Our battle is the perfect measurement of the two absolutes. He is completely corrupt; he gets no forgiveness or mercy, for he deserves none. Evil is what lurks in the darkness and refuses, nay, denies the inevitable right that is the light so very much like that of our sun, if not exactly so. In the name of Equestria We, Celestia, vow that the innocents will be freed and see the sun once more."
Celestia finished this speech with a grand flourish of her hoof as her gaze towards the tainted city never once ceased. She thought only of the kindness that would be given to these oppressed souls when they discovered the charity Equestria would offer them. In no time at all, these Crystalline citizens would find themselves under the stable hooves of the Triarchy.
Luna stood aghast as her own gaze met the contemplative Celestia—who did not notice. How could somepony who had once been so dear to her say—no, think such a thing?! There was no honesty in those words. Would she really continue to align herself with those that disgraced and shunned Luna and made her blood boil?
The snow stirred one last time as the two Alicorns took off into the skies. Their powerful wings dwarfed the effects of the storm. Both sisters headed towards the malicious and twisted crystal edifice that loomed in what was once a great city.
...
Princess Celestia had few thoughts as the cold air hit her face and her lashes batted her eyes free of snow. The few that she did were visions of success and the smiling faces of crystal ponies. Their eyes were all tinged with joyous and grateful tears in her fantasies. Perhaps they would sing ballads. Really, anything cheerful that would get rid of this unbearable silence would be wondrous. After all, she was Celestia, Princess of Equestria, Goddess of the Sun, and immortal champion of ponykind.
Goddess…
Immortal…
After centuries of innocence, she finally knew their real meaning: duty.
There was no good that could come from such otherwise-monstrous capabilities — except to bow to that sense of a greater good. To live for anypony else was the only worthwhile way to spend forever, and Celestia did everything to re-cement that within her mind. The mantra was now so interwoven within her that it might as well be pulsing in tune with her heartbeat.
Her sister's thoughts were much different as her forehooves brushed up against clouds. Luna's mighty wings captured the shape of the air, triumphing over the unruly northern winds. She did so soundlessly, while the noisy wing-beats of the mare beside her could not be hushed.
Who is it they would end today—and what would they use as their justifications?
This was the first real threat they would face alone as mares, and there was so much mystery surrounding him. With Tirek, they had been aided by Scorpan, who warned them of his brutality in advance. The terrible Reaper had been defeated by the two goddesses during adolescence, and they hadn't had to worry about destroying anything. Nothing in the land of the three tribes was sacred or worth protecting. Here, they had to prevent any more ponies from dying or being used as leverage.
King Sombra—that was his name. Luna could not stand the thought that she might be bringing death to a total stranger. She needed that certainty before any righteous justice could be carried out, and that could only come through confirmation. Meeting the tyrant and really engaging with King Sombra would surely provide that; nothing was ever as black and white as Celestia wanted it to be, not that anypony else in the world ever cared.
What was he like? Was he wrathful, greedy, or something else? Perhaps he was a higher kind of monster—one whose mind was consumed with perverse lusts that led to violence and other sadistic things. Was this the path he chose—or was it one that he strayed to?
Does he know regret?
What does he think about? Does this king see himself as the villain he is made out to be? Can he comprehend what he has done?
Was he made into this? How did he come to where he is today, where hundreds of ponies are dead directly by his hoof alone?
She took a quick, sharp breath so as not to disrupt the silence. It was only now that she didn't mind it. Luna flapped her wings harder. She wanted to know who this pony was; he couldn't be just another face. As awful as they were, ordinary ponies did not do such things. Everything about what King Sombra had done was separate from all the tyrants that Luna had known before, and made each one appear no more fearsome than a foal who had yet to be weaned. At least in some respects. As much as Celestia wished to be wishy-washy, what the tribes had done to one another was close enough to genocide—and that was not the only sickness that transpired there. None had gotten to the scale that King Sombra had in such a short amount of time, though.
The castle came into view. It was a depressing and overwhelming structure. Every surface was armored with thick layers of smoke-gray crystals that bore no signs of gloss or luster and hid whatever the original shape was. The top was a closed and deadly-looking crown of thorns nopony could hope to bypass.
What has happened here... 'tis positively awful, thought Celestia with a rise of burning anger.
It looks like more of a prison than the rest of the Empire, Luna observed, unable to look away.
As they soared closer, the sisters discovered the gold-wrought balcony. When compared to the rest of the castle, it appeared to be relatively unchanged.
What does it look like under all of this? Luna thought.
They were close enough now that Celestia had folded her wings and prepared to land. Luna was a few lengths behind her. As soon as she landed, Celestia recoiled in pain as an unnatural red and purple flame scorched her foreleg, leaving bleeding and blistered skin in its wake. Her jaw clenched, and her horn lit up with the same gold aura as before. It smoothed over the marred flesh until it was repaired, even if the coat would take a while to grow back. It wasn't worth worrying about at the moment; she had a much bigger task saddling her.
Princess Luna hovered nearby. She lit her own horn up with her natural turquoise magic. Dissatisfied at the resulting amount, she charged her horn up with even more, enough to overwhelm any mortal creature and cause portions of the glow to change to brilliant white—the same color her eyes now glowed with. Their hue was much purer as a result of the sheer power overflow at her disposal. The younger goddess let the blast fly in the form of a many-forked bolt of lightning. This hit the balcony and caused it to shake, Luna’s magic only served to show the now-glowing white outlines of runes that were laid there at an earlier time.
The spell caused the runes to glow so intensely Celestia averted her eyes. She was forced to shield them with her oversized wing as they burst into short puffs of smoke, leaving only the golden surface they thought they had seen. Celestia's jaw clenched tighter behind her wing. She had counted on there being traps deeper into the castle, of course. But not pre-laid ones, and with the amount of smoke that was released... The newer the spell, the less smoke her sister's spell would have produced.
Luna blinked, making no effort to control the expression of shock she had. She read the spell's results right as well. This particular surprise was only a few days old. Unlike her sister, she was more willing to tolerate an alteration in plans that were made beforehoof.
Celestia uncovered her face, revealing a composed expression that contrasted against her sister's currently open display of emotion.
Luna's eyes followed the last bit of smoke. Her eyes now looked into the chilling and silent archway that led from the balcony into the prison that this king dwelled in.
She knew exactly what this meant.
King Sombra is waiting for us, she thought. This magic meant he knew somepony was coming.
...
To say the castle was unwelcoming would not suffice. There were no sounds other than the sisters themselves. The unwavering, eerie pressure of the silence kept them mute with the sheer sense of fear its presence carried.
It, too, knew they were here.
There was hardly any light on the inside, except for a few flickering orbs of the same never-before-seen fire that scorched Celestia. It did not crackle or spark and was quite poor at its job, but perhaps that is what was intended. The only excuse of real light came from all the way outside, from fractured and broken beams that barely made it past the dense layer of clouds. They were lucky enough to be able to see in front of their own hooves. Luna blinked once. She could see at least nine lengths of her leg down the brightest hall, where what were once windows were buried under the chilling grey crystals. Were it nighttime, her eyes would have then been touched by the inborn power that rendered her eyes more felid. Ponies loathed the look of her eyes then—but let them. She could see in the darkest places, and they never would. Such an ability would be a blessing now,
Celestia shifted slightly, watching their crooked shadows quiver. "This place is repugnant," she whispered with as much disgust as her words indicated.
For another moment in this silent waste, they did not move from the throne room. There, its stolen throne sat emptier and colder than the air itself. There was no tyrant in sight. It was smothered under curtains of darkness. No hoofprints were near it either—only empty halls that extended before them. Each enticed nopony to go deeper into what Celestia found to be a lair befitting the wretched monster that lived here. What could one mortal unicorn possibly do to two immortals, except fall before them?
Celestia cleared her throat. Luna's eyes widened at the sound, which seemed to echo forever. They shouldn't be making so much noise... It didn't feel right, especially since they could use this silence to their advantage. What else could such a smothering atmosphere possibly have?
"There are two of us," Celestia began. She did not care to speak quietly, even though her eyes shifted through the halls where a foul creature hid from them. "Only one tyrant stalks these corridors."
She ended just as simply as she started and looked down at Luna, who knew exactly what her sister was suggesting. It didn't sound like such a good idea to her... not that she would ever be asked for her input.
"We will be splitting up. Then it will be easier to track down and slay the abomination that sees fit to walk among fine animals such as ponies and kill them so wantonly. None should have any right to corrupt nature in such an evil process as this. Soon, this city shall be restored to its most good and harmonious state, and its ponies shall be taken in by Our benevolent land."
Luna nodded, but didn't look at her sister. Instead, she only watched as Celestia strode off towards a hallway on the left. It was a bit difficult to make out her sister’s defining features as the curtain of shadows rolled over her and the last color of her pastel mane vanished.
Luna was alone, and that was alright.
She didn't need to light her horn, since her vision in such places was beyond her sister's — a sure sign that Celestia was probably lowering the sun right now. All that gave Luna was the perfect opportunity to bring forth an unscheduled night to better enhance herself. If her sister was going to partake in such heavenly manipulations, Luna could too. While she would rather have a longer chance to bring forth a proper night, she was able to at least guide her most favored possession forth without ever having to look at the horizon.
There were three hallways that remained. The first was short and turned off in what appeared to be the same direction Celestia had gone. The next was twisted with especially jagged crystals that looked like needles. Last was a hallway with the same crooked crystals. However, they were not needle-like, but instead were cracked, broken, and grown together to form a crumbling barrier to a path where no light shone through. It looked like whoever made it didn't care to do so properly. In fact, it also looked like whoever went down that path — however long ago that may have been — did not wish to be found.
And so, Luna chose the hallway she believed would lead to the entity she knew little of...
King Sombra.
...
Celestia's hooves struck the crystal floors in perfect rhythm. She marched through the once-grand halls in search of where the tyrant could be hiding. Now that the throne room had been discovered empty, she had to work at a stiff and speedy gait that left little time for inspection. The faint glow of her horn guided her onward, but she knew not where she was heading. This castle was a dim world—one she could neither dawdle in nor investigate thoroughly. Not when the lives of ponies were at stake. Potential torture chambers and even greater traps likely desecrated these halls.
This monster would meet his fate. She could be sure of that — but where would she meet him?
Her mind was not focused on the time, but the possibility of what he could do with it. Each layer of dreadful uncertainty was coming undone within Celestia's head. The nastiness of her worry was a sick feeling that pared each away with a painful, stomach-churning sensation. The monster of a King had set a trap for them. He had known, but how? Was Luna not careful in her undercover conduct?
So far Celestia had encountered nothing at all... Unless he was watching her...
She came to a halt and looked around, just to be sure she wasn't being trailed. Every bit of this castle looked the same to her: tainted with grotesque, impure magic. Never before had Celestia seen the likes of it. The Crystal Empire was stolen from the mortal ponies that resided in the malicious shadow of the once-bright castle. The ponies here were happy once, and he took that from them. The princess only had one sign of what it had been like before: a particular piece of not-wholly-magic and something rather techy reminiscent of... before the tribes. The world then had such devices as the crystal shard that Celestia had been given—one that, when flooded with the proper amount of magic, revealed spectacular maps and interactive sights. Golden Mile had given it to Celestia using her own bizarre magic, which Celestia had not seen in any other pony race. That feeble magic—one of light and crystals—brought the prism and its holo-spells to life, dazzling a crowd of guards who could not fathom such an advanced trinket.
Worst of all of this was that King Sombra had done the unforgivable: he had killed without reason and hurt those that could not protect themselves.
He had stolen the most precious gift a creature could have: their own life.
Celestia scowled, which was a rarity to see on her—something she preferred to go unwitnessed. With the new, yet slow-growing renaissance under the aid of Alicorn influence, schools were starting to improve. Magics and other kinds of knowledge were being rediscovered and crafted anew. All of this was happening for the first time in over a millennium. Even if these mortals — along with the Two Royal Sisters, to some degree — had no definite idea of all they had lost, the latter pair understood where such investments could lead.
One of those things that were in the realm of 'could-be' was especially horrid, lingering in the tallest of tales and fringes of possible potential of magical power. The mere chance of this was enough to spark outrage in Celestia.
Magic life.
Nopony currently alive knew how to create it—thank goodness—but it changed nothing. Magic life was the idea that somepony could create an entire flesh and blood creature out of magic. Unlike any phantom-like construct, it would be an independent being with a soul.
Celestia shuddered every time she thought of it.
It was the perfect word to describe this—which wasn't life or magic at all. It would be beyond a monster: a demon, who forever and always would remain utterly heartless. A kind of imitation of a real creature — and it would hurt every animal it found, much like this tyrant.
Thankfully, it was only a possibility.
She looked around again, trying to ignore the bothersome cold air.
"How can anypony live here?" she whispered, teeth chattering.
"They don't ever stay, actually. I kill them."
Celestia snapped to attention. The light on her horn grew until she saw the tyrant king at the other end of the high-ceilinged hall. Shadows highlighted the unnatural purple smoke pouring from his eyes and broad white smile.
She stared at him—her enemy.
What kind of magic was that?!
He stepped into the light, as if pining for a dramatic reveal. All his attire was over-the-top,—as if a greedy little child were trying to figure out what royalty looked like—with a helmet-like crown and a ridiculously styled mane that hid his ears. There was also the matter of his horn: it was curved and tipped in red. No pony had a horn with a curve or color like that; what greater sign of his ugly soul did she need than an equally hideous exterior?
Even in the ever-dim light, Celestia was able to catch a brief glimpse of what looked like dark circles from lack of sleep under that smoke. Had he been fretting about their arrival? How long had he known?!
"It's very nice of you to stop by," he began, talking to her as if they were old friends. She did note that he spoke unlike any royal she had ever known, without a single hint of formality in his tone. That only made more disgust brew within her at his sheer impolite conduct. "I'm sure you don't remember me. But that doesn't matter, since I get to kill you anyway. After all, life is so boring without somepony suffering so violently in front of me. Then, they die afterward, preferably by my hoof. You know, the usual. Just think of it like being able to create your own song. One fit just for your ear—and bringing it to the sweetest possible end."
He still acted as if he knew her. Didn't he know she was an everlasting being whom no amount of deaths could conquer? And the way he spoke certainly did sound familiar... But the King wasn't anypony she knew, nor did he resemble anypony she had known. Celestia made it her business to remember important ponies, and he was far from important. To decree that any evil could come close to the word was sickening.
She wouldn't need to tell him she was immortal—or anything else. He could die, and she could not, and that was all that mattered. The King would perish in this encounter, and she would not. That was the pure simplicity of their duality — and the outcome Celestia felt was inevitable within her heart.
Celestia wanted to see blood, and the King wanted to see the same. How wonderful it was to meet such an agreeable foe.
...
The King dodged a blast of light that fired from Celestia's horn with ease. For a moment, the whole corridor-turned-battleground was alight, before darkness resumed. Another ball of light, and rich flames of pure gold headed in the direction of the King with his power-hungry gaze and sadistic smile. It hit the castle instead, fragments of the strange crystal raining down below, dripping downward, but never shattering.
Celestia was confused. She'd wiped out the first Everfree castle of their parents with much less force, and now this crystal only crumbles?! This crystal—which seems to come from nowhere, can be controlled so easily, and covers everything—somehow attempted to defy its nature. How was it resisting the power of a literal goddess?
"Do you want to know how I got my new name?" he asked quite casually, contrasting with his chilling voice. The King did not even wait a single second for the princess to answer. "I stole it."
Thief.
"Nopony would fear me if I used my given name. I had a new start, and I needed a new name with all this ruin. Sombra just came from nothing! It didn't use to mean anything. Now, it has the same meaning as—"
Her grim expression twitched. How dare he try to make idle chat like this! Why did he act as if he were fit to even live in the same world as her?
"MURDERER!" she screeched, the Royal Voice echoing throughout the length of the corridor.
The King saw this, smiling wider. She saw his teeth shift into fangs — something only a monster could possess. "Why, yes, I am! I enjoy it very much, since it pays so well. I could just do this... well..." He bared his fangs even more menacingly, like they could drip poison."...I guess forever, since nothing else could be enough."
He teleported farther down the hall, until all Celestia could see were those glowing eyes of his. The glint of that smile managed to bite into her despite the distance, sending a chill shooting down her spine. She hated that smile almost as much as one who took lives as cheerfully as he did. He didn't deserve to live any longer—or to have lived in the first place. Admittedly, it was a little late for that, and this so-called King most definitely did not deserve an extended fight. From here on out, things would be very brief as she purged the false King from the world. Only then could the empire of crystals be claimed for the Triarchy; it had to be free of darkness to be swallowed by the light of the harmonious southern kingdom.
Celestia's eyes were shining even brighter than her horn, showing a furious white glow obscuring her irises and pupils. The edges of her mane no longer waved recognizably, but were like a roaring fire. Steam emitted from the ground as she stood. Each color of her mane was tinted with a gold sheen that curled through the typically soft pastel with a molten-fierce hue.
The room around them was no longer blanketed in shadows, instead consumed by an orb of orange-gold light — Celestia's vicious, smoldering magic. More than that, her magic was so strong that it physically manifested as an excess of her godly powers — and was causing the dark-hued crystals to gradually flake away.
Oh, had this been any other mortal's domain…
Celestia charged after him, bounding down the halls with long, quick strides, running faster and faster. She didn't know that she was using more magic than she ever should have channeled.
...
Every step the wrathful princess took left hoofprints melted in the outer layer of the dark crystal. She was chasing him now. The King disappeared further into the darkness, never once coming in contact with Celestia's lethal light. Her magic highlighted the difference in this particular hall. Unlike the last one, it was lined with many doors, many of which were currently burned into oblivion.
Through this veil of blinding light, she made out the silhouette of the king vanishing behind the next inevitable victim of her divine power.
Her righteousness.
The room was not spared either. It didn't matter that the original door wasn't going to fit a creature of Celestia's height. The door, along with its frame, didn't exist anymore. Not after having come in contact with the epicenter of the distant-hearted princess' magic.
It would have been a spacious reception room under the reign of the previous monarch—whoever they had been. There were other doors leading to neighboring rooms and a closet. Tables and chairs—as personal as chilly wind, and as meaningless as stone weathered beyond any hope of individuality—sat unmoved and covered in dust from nearly a decade.
On the table, in the middle of the room — which was a smooth, opaque slab of crystal that was really more of a monolith — the armor-clad hoof of the Enemy rested on the surface.
There was only the roar of the magic, which wouldn't be able to sustain itself for much longer. A fireball flew from her horn, whistling through the air with the same anger that resided in the caster. It sailed past the King's broad and toothy smile—the one that was only present when others were in pain. The fireball screamed with golden fury, about to make contact with the face of that grinning tyrant and end him.
The gray monolith came up, dust churning in great waves with its flight. It was turned into a shield by one who had even less heart than the inanimate object he used to shield himself. It was there that the fireball landed, ripping apart the cold and abandoned furniture like a hot sledgehammer would tear through a single stick of warmed butter. Chunks of scorched, liquified crystal were sent flying. The tyrant dodged — much to her frustration — escaping without a visible scratch.
The few solid remains of the table clattered to the ground, which only intensified the returning silence.
Celestia made her next move quickly, leaping over the ruins between them. Her focus was the only way to secure freedom for the crystal ponies. She stretched out one forehoof as she prepared to land as gracefully as possible. Her magic still burned for a mere second longer, utterly overcharged. Then, before her eyes, it flickered out, stunning Celestia so deeply that she misstepped and fell in a clumsy stumble.
The King saw this. In that same instance, a door was flung open; Celestia hit her head once and looked back toward that door in a heavy daze. There wasn't anything behind the door. No room of any kind lurked behind it. Only a wall dimly reflecting her wavering, dizzying reflection back at her. She would have had to turn to look away. Celestia didn't—or, rather, she couldn't. The gray gem at the top of the door's frame shot out a blast of magic she knew was the king's — and then, that was all the princess knew.
It had her mind.
The King withdrew a wicked knife from under his cloak, its thick, serrated edge exactly the tool needed to cut down to bare bones. An odd sound, unbefitting of the image of a warlike tyrant this heartless individual had created, escaped the King. A foalish giggle, loud and edging into a cackle.
Celestia sat staring at the wall with a blank look in her eyes. Each was green-tinted with purple smoke wisps streaming out from their sides. She couldn't do anything — and there was nothing more that the King could have ever wanted from anypony—except that helpless, submissive state. Everypony bearing the life of a corpse and scattered before him was greater than the wealth of a whole cornucopia at half-remembered harvest feasts of his youth.
He didn't know that she was immortal, that any wound would not kill her — or that, even if he lopped off her head, there would be no finality. Not for a goddess. Her soul would wander, coalesce, and renew the body she had lost just as she would have been before his mutilation. However, anything he did would hurt more than most could comprehend.
It would still hurt her, and all the King ever wanted was to hurt others. Nothing existed to trim his words with anything but that singular, raw want.
He knew her as well, no matter how much this goddess would deny, deny, deny her past. It wouldn't matter if she didn't remember him — he didn't care. Perhaps she would soon enough— and then things would only delight him further.
The King used his magic to hold the knife to her throat, utterly drunk on everything that could be done to dissect a goddess. A single, thin trail of blood coursed thinly down her neck, marring Celestia's smooth, white coat — and she could still feel and know nothing. How precious that even this goddess was no different than each of the mortals he had slaughtered with the exact same tricks and traps.
For a brief moment, his smile faltered. No, he couldn't start with slitting her throat. That would end everything too easily; he would never get to see all that could be wrenched around her and eviscerated for nothing but satisfying himself, the King of Kings! It would be no fun; there wouldn't be any screaming! Even when the King had the time to really torment her enough that she regained consciousness, what fun could be had with somepony who did not obey, beg, plead, and descend into losing their mind with every way he threw off whatever shred of restraint he could see in himself?
If she was still alive... If I can keep myself from ruining her flesh too much before—
He ran the knife — which was really more of a small saw — down to her wings. This blade could cut through bone, and he was using it to ruffle her feathers, of all things! Her wings would be an excellent place to start. Without them, the King would have just so many more ways to maximize her misery and humiliation. All the mixed-blood crystal ponies that bore pegasi heritage had been slaughtered in the days when he first took over. Those had been few and far between, and de-winging them lost its luster, to the point that it became standard procedure in their treatment. Many had died too soon after, while Celestia was a toy he could splinter in a thousand more ways, if the King wished it.
She sat, unflinching, utterly unaware of anything beyond her new delusions. There was only a faint look of terror in her eyes—but that too was distant.
The door would keep her mind far away for a long time. She wouldn't realize what was happening until it was too late, and he could just snap her back with a pull like a lever — that pull being a knife slipped between her ribs.
He didn't realize what was happening until the knife fell to the floor with a modest clatter—and he fell with it. The dark energy vanished from his eyes.
He hated this.
It rarely happened, but he still hated it.
More accurately, he hated him.
...
Luna's horn did not flicker, for she had cast no light. It would have been a foolish choice to consider such a decision in the first place. She did not fumble, for she could still see clearly where to place her every step. The atmosphere was not a pleasant one. The moon princess did not mind the cold or dim surroundings, but this castle was a rare exception. Everything she saw was drained of all warmth, and if she had no view of the ground beneath her, she could have sworn that the floor was no more than ice under her bare hooves.
Bare...
It was not a fit word to describe this place. The only thing bare here was her hooves; her regalia was back in the Everfree Forest since it served no purpose here. Still, this ominous castle made her want to hold her breath in order not to dispel the heavy silence. That was not bare of anything. It felt too heavy with everything instead — too smothering, too sad, and wholly uncomfortable.
Luna exhaled slightly and watched her breath form fog. It was really freezing in here, and so desolate. The air was still, but not stale. Even somepony as solitary as her couldn't stand to be here long.
Could anypony, really? It was not only as silent as a grave, but if what intelligence she had to go on was true, then it truly was one for many of the crystal ponies.
She kept walking. Privately, Luna wondered how long she had been creeping through these halls. All the while, she was trying to avoid any scrapes that would be the result of coming in contact with the many splintered crystals that poked out of every wall. For the most part, they were barren of anything else. Every now and then, she came across the remains of a tapestry. Other times, she saw what was left of its frame was broken, which was also usually askew. Sometimes, the few traces of fabric that did remain were charred beyond recognition.
It saddened her to see this, since she knew all too well what it was like to see one’s home destroyed.
Sadness aside, Luna couldn't help but feel nervous in this prison.
That's exactly what the Crystal Empire's castle was — nothing more than a prison. Did this king realize he was most likely digging his own grave? How could he stand being stuck here for so long? Why did this tyrant live like this when he could surround himself with sumptuous spoils? Was he really so heartless that he couldn't feel the poison of this place?
The princess looked up. The hallway was ending soon. There was something else in the end; she could see the start of a larger room.
She also saw something else: a flicker of light. A white tinge in a colored blur.
Somepony had started up a spell of some kind.
Somepony that wasn't her sister.
Luna quickly ducked behind a cluster of crystals, then inched along the walls as carefully as possible. It was harder than it seemed due to the unnatural crystals poking out in random places, which created a jagged, maze-like obstacle course for her to navigate. She didn't want to risk using magic right now, in case of there being an enchantment nearby triggered by such an action. Luckily for her, she found a cluster of crystals near the entryway to what she could now see was a rotunda. This, of course, was covered in rough layers of the same dull-gray crystals on which she was poised behind. Unlike any rotunda she knew, there was no light shining down from above. Nor were there any windows that escaped the spread of the harsh, alien crystal. She glimpsed two balconies on higher floors around the rotunda that remained intact. They could prove to be useful later. They were unbearably cold when her coat brushed up against them. Luna shivered and folded her wings even closer to her body.
Now she heard the faintest echo of hoofsteps. The king was wearing some kind of metal shoes, perhaps even a full suit of armor — not that it would matter. Luna figured it was safe to refer to the sound's owner by title alone, since nopony else would be in the castle, judging by its state. Even the fire blazing on one of the balconies high above matched the same green-purple hue of the one outside. Everything she had seen thus far indicated that he was maintaining the castle all by himself. She had picked up no rumors of servants while shadowing among the slaves, but much of the temperament and nature of the monster who dwelled in the castle.
Judging by what I can hear of the way he walks, he either has not encountered Celestia yet, or has escaped her without injury. While that proves to be unlikely it is not an impossibility.
The hoofsteps grew closer. She could safely say that her foe was somewhere under where a skylight might have been. Thus, he was now safe to target.
She unfolded her wings and darted out from where she had been waiting. There definitely was a pony standing unmoving in the middle of the floor. He was unusual-looking enough, but she wasn't close enough to make out all of his features. The deep, vibrant red of his cape spilling over his withers was enough of a marker of his station. It stood out against his long black mane and the dimness of the castle in a most spectacular fashion. Not a single shred of doubt remained in Luna's mind that this was King Sombra, and the solidity of how he stood there was a sign he was no mere illusion enchantment.
Luna's horn charged with blue magic. While the edges of her sister's aura often burned with a flame-like appearance, Luna's sparked with lightning, growing bright enough to illuminate half of the rotunda. This display was so bright that she could see the blurs of color that were her and the king in the crystalline surface. She dove forward, using her wings to pump her body upward and make her leap toward him more powerful.
A metal-clad forehoof reached out and grabbed Luna, whose mind was only set on coordinating her attack as she bounded downward. He was quick for someone so heavily garbed in a scarlet robe and the armor he wore, and the sensation of his grip was frightening and choking.
The spell died, although her shock was clear on her face.
She was forced to skid to a stop as he grabbed her roughly and pulled her close enough to make direct contact with his crimson gaze.
"I do hope you realize I can sense magic. Any stealth you ever attempt is utterly useless against me."
Everything was black and white. Celestia knew this. Everypony should have known this. At least this place knew that—one beautiful, irrefutable law. It was unbreakable.
Black and white. Nothing else.
Absolutes.
Perfection.
This amazing new place radiated that. The entirety of this room — if it was a room at all — was a bright white and bore no texture. Nothing could be a clearer indicator of the goodness that it overflowed with. Whatever power that managed this world decided to render Celestia herself like a drawing: stark, basic black outlining the brightest white. Some might be afraid of this— looking at their own form and finding it changed so drastically. Celestia was not one of those sorts. She felt at peace; everything here was so pristine and uncorrupted.
The sun princess walked on. Soon, she began to see trees, houses, and even ponies rendered as she was.
Black and white. The only possibilities. The pinnacle of perfection.
The frolicking ponies saw her and smiled. She dipped her head humbly toward them, bearing the widest of kindly smiles. These ponies recognized her as the ruler of this perfect and static world where everything was exactly as it was meant to be. Everything was in the bizarre and beautifully chilling presentation of a paper and ink drawing, with a flat and foal-like ideology that was a sweetness after Celestia's heart.
Her subjects spoke in pleasant tones. Even if the language was not one she knew, her heart told her otherwise. She basked in what must be their praise. She was the great princess of Equestrian hero-tales. Celestia, who brought them to the land that was now Equestria and raised the sun. She was their light, their guide. She was—
Celestia paused, noticing her little ponies were suddenly afraid, their birdsong-like language now reduced to nervous chattering. They pointed towards the horizon, their hooves shaking in fear and their eyes wide. Celestia's heart skipped nervously in her chest. What monster would dare to hurt her little ponies—the sweet mortals who loved her so dearly?
They ran in the direction of the sun princess' shadow, which was a gorgeous shade of ebony that would guard them against all they feared.
Celestia, on the other hoof, lit her horn with a blinding aura — now snow-white instead of gold — and strode towards the monster that would dare hurt these mortal souls. Celestia laid her eyes on the greatest horror she could fathom in this once-blessed realm.
There was a long shadow, tar-hued with speckles of—
No.
No, it couldn't be. Not here. Not in this paradise.
So, she pushed the wicked thoughts aside as she went on. Every hoof trod lightly in fear of what could be in the center. If—and only if—that was what she saw, then Celestia must be facing some great evil that rivaled anything known by the creatures of this world.
She came to the center, everything growing so much darker that even her magic felt no more than a firefly's glow.
In the center stood a creature. One shorter than the mare of the sun, but taller than any mortal could hope to reach. It was a very familiar height, to say the least. The shadow she cast was no longer of the purest jet, but was riddled with the color of the shadow creature's coat.
Celestia kept telling herself it wasn't true.
It couldn't be; this world didn't have such a thing.
No world did!
It couldn't exist!
The shorter mare tilted up her head, staring the black-and-white Celesta straight in the eyes. Every inch of her was gray. Her mane and tail shone with silver tones that made Celestia have to suppress how her blood was nearing a boil at the sight.
"Hello, Sister," Luna said. Her expression was somber and fierce as always. Yet, the awful darkness did not conceal it from Celestia, who had yet to see her sister look so aggressive.
"Do you know why We are here?" asked the moon princess.
"As always, you are here to—"
"No," interrupted her sister's level voice. "We are here to tell you two things. Do you know what they are? What will your precious little shadow say?"
"We have no need of your nonsensical ramblings," Celestia said, her voice a thin layer keeping all her impatience at bay. "Were We not preoccupied with something important?" Slipping into the majestic plural came as second nature when Celestia found herself faced with Luna's upstart behavior.
Luna did not flinch at her sister's words, if she heard them at all, which was an uncharacteristically emotionless reaction from the younger princess. "The first is rather simple, and We think its brevity will resonate with you."
"Why do you ruin this world?" Celestia, too, did not care to listen. In doing so, she furthered the gap between the two of them — even if she only spoke with a mere shade now. "You do not fit in with the rules, Luna. You must obey them as much as We do in order to set an example for Our ponies! Black and white, Luna! It is high time you realized you are one or the other! Let your true color show, for, in this world, there is only good and evil! There is no in-between! It does not exist! If you never pick, you will never belong. When you keep acting like that, you can keep going your own way—"
"You are always alone, even if you think not — and one day you really will be so," hissed Luna. “Keep this facade up, and see where you shall end up.”
How dare her sister be so insolent! So wrong! It disgusted Celestia, and she felt her emotions burn as they did on rare occasions — and it was on those occasions with centuries between them where she occasionally could no longer control herself.
The last time this happened was really not so long ago. They had fought viciously enough to wish one another strangers instead of sisters.
"YOU LIE! LUNA, YOU ALWAYS LIE! YOU ARE JUST JEALOUS, AND YOU HAVE ALWAYS BEEN! YOU HAVE ALWAYS ENVIED ME BECAUSE YOU BELONG NOWHERE!"
The Royal Voice faded and she stared, panting, unusually feral at her unwavering phantom of a sister. She watched as the gray impossibility melted like snow in her sun, slowly dripping away, until there was nothing left. No scenery, no mortals, truly nothing but the princess in her void of absolutes.
She was alone.
How much time had passed? She did not know, but it felt like an eternity of being awash in all the memories that were her curse.
North. Before the tribes. A marsh. Tears.
Alone.
Ashes.
She had dedicated her life to her little sister. She became everything to her in the absence of the family that they had lost.
Mother. Father. Cousin. Aunt. Uncle. Sister.
She had been the one to try and keep Luna safe from every danger the world had. Every thorn, scrape, and bad word.
Alone.
She had done that for the longest time—and all on her own. All her life was spent on family, and she felt every shred of it leaving her every day. Celestia had been able to have everything in the world but a life to call her own—and everything that came with it.
Lost. Cold. Travels. Clover. Meadow. Lies.
Everything about her life was a waiting game — and it was the only game she ever got to play. Even that was only something she felt like she partially participated in. She hated these thoughts, hated dreams — be they the bad or otherwise — and every shred of history from the world that took her life from her. The world that shouldn't have ever had to be. All her wants were ashes before they ever got to have light. Her thoughts could only be occupied with her little sister — who managed to become her biggest burden over the years. If Luna would ever have listened to her, loved ponies as she did, and done exactly what she was told without constant dreams and questions then—
Alone.
A hailstorm of memories was pelting Celestia as she stood frozen. When they found the tribes, all the flames of adolescence had taken her. For once in her life, she wanted to burn, not caring that, one day, she would burn out. Let her have all of life's pleasures. Let Celestia get to be real — but not the filly-goddess she had lived as from a lost world. No, not that Celestia. She had decided to write her own life, and fashioned the image of a hero, mare of the court, and indulged in stallions. No longer did she want to be the shadow, the watcher to the dancer, the constant caretaker, the one who was stuck in a world that tried to insist on an adventure when it would just be so much better stopping! She could find all that she needed in others, and let them want her as much as she required them. For, if they did not know her—who did?
Discord. Friend. Help. Trickster. Crush. Left.
All the life she had before could be buried if she wanted to be. Luna had been the one to always bring it up. To insist that the past was a reality that could not be hidden, that change could not be. And that Celestia, who never told anypony that she felt she never had a life, still did not know how to live. Celestia had been the one to ensure that they had somepony who tried to act as a guardian. It was the best that could be done. She had been the one to ensure that it was somepony who could teach Luna her precious magic while Celestia surrounded herself with the friends, her dearest of sycophants — as if there was anything wrong with that!
Alone.
She could bury the life she never got to have, all the chances for love and living she had missed out on. But, somehow, it weighed enough to crush her — and keep coming back.
How did she not realize that she needed to give herself to others differently? The tribes showed her that. She couldn't have her sister consume her.
Her sister, who still thought they were coming back one day just because gods could not die.
Alone.
Always.
No.
No, no, no! She ran and tried to find somepony, anypony. She couldn't be—
Alone, the void echoed back, holding no voice she had ever heard before, if it was truly 'speaking' at all.
She never wanted to be—
Alone!
She gave up. On them — and had the sense to do it ages ago! They meant nothing to her now. She gave up on her sister, her once-so precious little sister who could not, would not be her life when she first reached the tribes. In fact, that burden of a sister was the last tie she had to a world not worth remembering. Without Luna, she could really be free at last. She could fully sink into change when the sole mare who insisted that change was as real as a foal's bedtime story was gone! Ever since they had left during the exodus from the tribes' lands, Celestia had still been trying to get Luna to live her own life, to continue to pull herself in the direction of her ponies—
The white began to hurt her eyes. She ran in a daze, so frantic with her mouth open, but no sound coming out. She needed someone—and she always had!
They were gone! All was gone! She had to—
—establish a court.
—surround herself with ponies.
—always stay busy, for she enjoyed her duties anyway.
—tell nopony of the mare she tried to bury for the sake of letting the princess of 'Princess Celestia' live!
—make friends, oh so many friends.
—there could not be any reminders. Luna is a reminder. Ignore Luna, she is not your life. She is your sister.
A reminder. No, she couldn't be reminded. Not now. Not ever. To remember was to know imperfections, to see lies, to—
She had to forget. She destroyed the old castle so she could forget all the gods and their old world. She forgot Discord—her only friend and most enduring conundrum. She was doing everything she could to try and forget what came before the travels — and even before the time of the tribes. It was so hard to forget with Luna as a stain of ink on her canvas. She could never, never, ever hurt Luna—
—but with her around, Celestia couldn't cripple her god's memory enough to her liking.
They are evil; she is good. Lumina and Noctus are wrong; Celestia is right.
She was breathing hard. There were so many tears. Celestia couldn't stop crying.
"The second..."
Celestia gasped, loudly. A voice! A glorious, heavenly voice!
"The second thing We have to tell you..."
It was not a voice she wanted to hear. It came from nowhere! Everywhere was nowhere here!
"...is that they will find you. Celestia, you are haunted. Would you like to meet your ghosts? It is inevitable."
Celestia almost choked. Marring her beautiful snow-pure landscape were two parallel trickles of gray. They were shadows that kept growing into the long-lost shapes of an Alicorn mare and stallion. This was not her Destiny! This could not be! Nothing so unkind could come to anypony who dedicated herself to what she did!
She tried to unfold her wings and fly away, but only felt paralyzed. Celestia was blinded by tears and overwhelmed with fear.
Luna stared at Sombra, her eyes wide with shock. Ordinary ponies could not sense magic. Neither could Alicorns. Only magic itself could have that sort of awareness — otherwise, it could not be interactive, or capable of being woven, and so much more. What he had just said made being struck over the head feel less shocking. If it weren't for how collected he seemed, Luna could swear he was lying.
He had clearly been ready, even though what he had described was impossible. She teleported away from him and up to one of the balconies she spotted earlier.
She was still going to fight him. She had to. What did she know about this pony? Clearly, everything she might have 'learned' from her so-called time here was likely to be proven false very quickly—or, at least, was very likely to. He was possibly able to sense magic, but was no eldritch being who reeked of eating children. Perhaps he could drive ponies mad when they looked upon him, but she was not able to judge the sight of ponies.
So, what did she know about him? First, she had noticed his horn; it was unlike that of any creature she had seen before. But why?
Nopony had this kind of horn...
Nopony had his magic... Could those be connected?
So she would test him.
She knew only a few things, and they would have to do. Each floated through her mind.
He was dangerous enough to take over a whole empire himself. He was strong. He was cruel enough to torture and murder.
Most of all, he was smart.
It was enough. She charged her horn with brilliant turquoise flecked with sparks of icy blue lightning.
She whirled around and fired, the bolt soaring to the ground below and exploding. The crystal was damaged. A hole was blasted in the center. The edges ripped apart without mercy and streamed, melting down to the grand floor. It really only was a shallow hole compared to the godly power that was packed into that lightning.
Luna could see that he was standing a few feet away from where she struck, unharmed.
He was quick — that was something new to add.
It was also only one strike of a spell that was as easy for her as blinking.
Luna's horn was bright once more as she flew down from the balcony. She was the faster flier compared to her sister, having long since mastered many tight maneuvers and plummets Celestia was unable to. Luna skidded to a halt on the part of the floor that still remained intact. Another volley of lightning shot in Sombra's direction. He did not move from his spot. When the magic came close enough, he let it strike him, only for Luna to watch his form disintegrate to shadow and her spell hit the wall below with a thundering crack.
Her horn charged again. His expression did not change from an irritated scowl. This time she teleported towards him, the silver sword she carried now unsheathed.
"Why?"
He blinked and stared at the Alicorn mare, her sword brandished and ready to strike if needed. Was she really going to pause to talk to him of all things? She was like her sister — an immortal goddess — and the memories that were not his own said her name was Selene. She was the younger one, and that was still the case— even if the two had grown into mares since then.
She didn't matter. She was immortal and powerful, but that wasn't important. She wasn't him; therefore, she didn't matter.
He saw her eyes.
She was miserable.
She was trapped.
He was trapped too.
Eight years of screaming in the darkness that his head was splitting, that he didn’t want to do this, seeing everything unfold, had been harrowing. Sombra wanted to leave before the two of them ever showed up. Eight years ago, a single set of hooves in the snow led into the mountains. All of it had been orchestrated by a voice—by a shell of a being within him telling Sombra to go to a homeland he didn't have, forcing compliance whenever possible.
He was hard to kill, but not impossible, like she was. The gods in all the old books he had seen had no finality. His mortality stuck out more than any sore hoof or butchered limb ever could. If he were anypony else, Sombra would have died already. Either due to overall weakness, or due to the fact that he was probably the only pony who even knew what an Alicorn was. Anarchy was the quickest way to claim those ponies traditionally seen as wise. All the intelligent and educated among the Crystalline citizens had been slaughtered alongside the elderly. Only the younger generations, ignorant of all the gods, were left to rot. Any shred of divinity to be spoken of among those with such stifled magic and ruined, too-young minds did not exist outside of stories.
And she had asked him why. There was no need to question what it pertained to. Many pathetic mortals had spent their dying breaths screaming variations of that question at him, though they would take no answer that transcended how narrow their minds were. Such was the way of ponies, to sink into the fog of ignorance and the blindfolds of the collective herd.
Sombra had never been given a choice. He was used as a weapon to further another's greed. If he weren't in his own body, he wouldn't even recognize himself anymore — even though he knew he never changed. Today was no exception. Sombra was not given a choice because this date might as well be the day of his funeral, if he were not a match for this mare.
He didn't answer. Instead, Sombra fired up his own magic.
Luna's cheek was marked with burns in an instant.
"Perhaps it is so I can do that on a normal basis?" Sombra deadpanned.
...
A wall of crystals sprouted up to block another bolt of lightning. Unlike the last few, this one had shattered when contact was made.
The princess's eyes shone with focused determination, along with bits of her temper—and the ever-present melancholy that lurked in them more than ever as of late.
Sombra fought back. While it was true that Sombra was a worthy opponent, Luna hoped she would never have to say that to his face. His magic was not only unusual, but his handling of it was superb, considering he could have been a barbarian who wielded more weapons than brains. Never before had she had the privilege of fighting any kind of creature so close to being her equal. There was a reason she was unable to train with the mortals she was required to whip into shape for Equestria's legions. As a goddess, she absolutely pulverized them while not even utilizing a quarter of her power. Neither Celestia, nor the 'best' mortal mages or pegasi, were adequate for sparring and spell-slinging together.
Luna flew up from the ground, the floor now riddled with holes, and landed on a balcony. Her stance was balanced, ready to change at a moment's notice. It was not her sister's showy, ineffective poise. Perhaps if she were facing off against a more flattered opponent, they would undoubtedly confess her regality and how imposing she looked. Such things had happened in the past. Mortals were prone to fear and flattery in equal measure when fighting against a god. Luna was the fierce and bright bolt of a storm; she was nopony's radiant and sight-stealing light.
Her horn glowed brightly with the latest spell she wished to ready. She scanned all that was below, looking for her sword. It would prove much more efficient in close combat, which she absolutely excelled at. She didn't have to worry about the burns on her cheek, since they were able to be healed with a faint flicker of light.
Except, her sword was no longer at her side.
When she was fighting... Well, it seemed that she had dropped it at some point. As a quick, cold strike of fear spread through Luna, she spared a downward glance. The harness was damaged. Already, a dozen curses cluttered her thoughts. Had been cut when she wasn’t looking? Her personal blade was at his side now, having been retrieved from its brief rest on the dim floor. It floated in his magic, but not the strange kind he had used before. This particular aura that King Sombra was using was the same hue as his eyes when dark magic was not flooding them — a simple crimson. Perhaps that was the color of his personal magic, as the hue seemed to suggest?
"Does this sword have a name?" he suddenly asked. His tone was neutral, perhaps even close to grumpy.
She didn't answer at first. How could she?
"DOES IT?!" he snapped.
She flinched slightly. How could he lose his temper so quickly? "Y-yes."
From the balcony, she could see him sneer. "Well, I have to say that this sword deserves more of a name than you do. Your so-called sister must love you very much if she bothers to name her miserable brat of a shadow."
Luna, he is just trying to make you angry…
"Isn't that right?"
It should not be working…
"You're not very good at maintaining a straight face, are you?"
"You have no idea how good my straight face is," she mumbled through gritted teeth. Every day of her life was becoming little more than keeping herself below the boiling point. Dealing with mortals and her sister was putting her in a slow, agonizing simmer.
"It doesn't matter if you don't talk at all; your expression says everything I need to know." Despite the bitterness in King Sombra's expression, there was clearly something he found worth sneering at in her plight.
Of course, this would be the one time a pony noticed her — to berate her. And not just any pony, but a heartless tyrant with a voice like a cave's echo. That couldn't be natural, since it seemed to suit a foal's image of evil, rather than something that could truly stand before her. There was even a time when she heard his voice dip, becoming hoarse momentarily. She saw how he had to light his horn, and the way that his voice seemed to stabilize into the unnatural bass again.
Just ignore him…
The magic Luna still held on her horn was starting to cloak her form. A white glow made its way into her eyes and clouded her vision.
"So, tell me one thing, Goddess-Who-I-Have-So-Excellently-Angered. Why did this happen? Why? I know that some of your kind had the ability to receive visions. Maybe you can tell me. Why did any of this have to happen to me? If you're worth anything, you'll answer me."
Luna did not listen to a single word. She was bristling with energy, her entire body covered with a sheen of magic, her eyes fully aglow. She was too angry to hear. She wasn't listening.
There was a blast of light and the sound of rumbling thunder. Luna dove from the balcony in a fierce plummet, the aura flowing behind her like a comet.
Sombra held up the sword, as if to block the strike of a weak opponent's blade—not a divine being's wrath. He didn't move a muscle. Sombra's horn was not bearing the plain crimson aura. Nor were his eyes showing the crimson iris and black pupil of a typical equine's that they had been moments before.
...
Sombra was mortal, and this was a death wish.
Sombra was also very, very crazy, and he played by no rules but his own. Death was like a pony to him: it existed, and was obviously as real as he was, but not as important — nor could it ever be.
At the last moment, he swiftly dodged the Alicorn in a manner that was not befitting of the royal warrior he appeared to be.
He side-stepped the charge quicker than anticipated.
And that was just what he wanted.
She was the emotional one—the real fighter of the two. All he had to do was make her feel any strong emotion, then wait for her to doubt herself and try to hold back. The next step — where he triggered her hostile reaction — would cause her judgment to blur and her feelings to get the better of her. Now, Sombra simply cast the spell he had been planning since he was out of her way. The dark aura flew from the caster. A pulsing mess of angry opaque colors bearing the likeness of smoke engulfed the moon goddess completely, just as Sombra skidded to a halt from his side-step.
Luna shrieked.
...
When the spell's aftermath — a thin layer of mist — cleared, both were able to see the extent of Luna's injuries.
While Sombra knew exactly what was going to happen if his movement succeeded, Luna was barely holding back her expression of wide-eyed, frightened disbelief.
Across her wings and withers were newly-sprouted clusters of the dark-colored crystal — the exact same kind as the ones which had, no doubt, been forced into the castle walls by Sombra himself. Each cluster was embedded in her skin. She could barely even limp, which still would not have yielded any helpful results in aiding her escape. A thin sheen of blood made its way through the broken skin at points, the blasphemous crystalline parasites bearing the glistening drops with a grim silence. The brief, momentary silence was punctuated only with a pained gasp on Luna's part. Her wings had taken most of the damage, making flight impossible. At some points, entire areas of pierced flesh mingled with her broken, shredded, and crimson-soaked feathers, which were tangled due to having been caught so awkwardly in the enchanted snare.
Magic was not a possibility. Her horn was not spared from the grip of the unnatural crystals.
She was more of a caged bird than ever now.
Her gaze — which was panicked as well as feral — met the straight-faced and unwavering expression of Sombra. She found no empathy in his gaze—nor did she expect to. Yet, Luna also noticed that he did not appear to take any satisfaction in his actions.
Sombra shifted the grip of the sword still in the hold of his magic. He tilted it so that a small portion of the right side of his face was reflected in the clean surface.
"What is your name?"
"L-Luna," she stammered. How strange it was that he seemed to read her so well, yet didn't even know her name.
Sombra's gaze did not leave his own reflection. "I have a question for you, Luna," he stated simply. Even though they were only a few strides away from each other, his voice held the distant, apathetic disdain of somepony lost in thought. Only her name was said with emotion, although Luna was unsure why his tone was so contemptuous with somepony he barely knew.
"It seems that you and your precious, shining sister have come a long way — and just to see me!"
She scowled, but inclined her head in the slightest of nods.
"Well, Luna tell me this—"
She was tired of his mocking tone. What could possibly be so important? "Tell me what?"
He still refused to tear his gaze away, but Luna could see his eyes narrow. That kept her quiet. Sombra was clearly not somepony who was used to being talked back to by any who posed any real challenge.
"Well, Luna, I only wanted to inquire if you felt like a hero yet. Your sister certainly acts like one. After all, I'm simply the worst, aren't I?"
His purposely light tone only added to the biting, cruel weight of his words. For Luna, that did it. She stared at the floor and wished that she was invisible, or that her wings were free. This was just too much. The way resentment dripped from beneath the mocking lightness in his voice only compounded her misery. Sombra could think. He knew what she thought—or, at least, what her sister so desperately wanted to think of him. Luna did not loathe this stallion — but she did not think kindly of him either. This creature looked and sounded as miserable as she did. To work up hatred for him was too difficult.
The pain in her wings flared up again. She despised this crippling magic; it was one more crushing grip upon her life to smash her into a place she did not belong. Luna whimpered faintly.
For one brief moment, Sombra's gaze was not focused on the sword.
...
Luna hadn't seen it before, but she saw the traces now. They weren't obvious enough unless you were close enough to him. Right now, Luna had the misfortune of being within a foot of Sombra. At least she was off to his side, which wasn't close enough for her to dread. They were both walking down the horribly extensive and crooked halls of the crystal palace. Thanks to Sombra's reign and magic, they were no longer recognizable. Sombra was the only one who was walking too. Of course, that was only if you could call storming through every corridor and muttering something indecipherable ordinary walking. Luna was lagging somewhat behind him, having no choice to limp along due to the nature of her injuries and the inability to use any means to escape. Sombra was too cunning — and experienced, she gathered — to let her lag behind where she could escape.
It also did not help that he could use both magic and her own sword — which he still happened to regularly threaten her with. Luna's immortality and divinity would not matter. If he slit her throat like he said he would, and she didn't have the magic to heal herself or somepony who could, the results would still be disastrous. Nopony would be there to save the crystal ponies.
Suffice to say, things were not in Luna's favor.
Or, at least, it had seemed like that would be the case—until Luna noticed the air around him. She saw how it was shimmering faintly. He didn't notice she had seen the indicator of an obvious enchantment.
It was magic, of course.
But what was it for?
All Luna knew was that it was some kind of shield. Invisible, unless one were observant enough to notice light bend a certain way. Once that particular bend was spotted, a careful pair of eyes could see the way in which it would create a small flicker of light in the air around him, hardly brighter than a reflection in the glass.
Each time, it rippled once and was gone.
It was a spell, alright, and one she could probably break — even in this state.
So what exactly was this shield keeping out? He already had the fighting skill and armor to keep most wounds from being inflicted on him, on top of a power that exceeded any of his subjects. This mad king Sombra was also smart enough to think of things such as setting a trap far in advance. Did he anticipate even advanced magical attacks, like the ones any well-versed magician — or a divine entity like herself — could inflict?
No matter what, she couldn't shake the feeling that he somehow knew her... This didn't feel like their first meeting. Creatures like herself were not prone to déjà vu, though mortals in their constant misconceptions about the divine likely thought otherwise. Of all the ponies she had really known in her life — which was not many — she swore she knew of somepony who sought what this Sombra figure had built for himself.
Luna held back a sigh and looked at the ever-irritated Sombra out of the corner of her eyes. She could only see his right side. Where she stood was a few steps behind him, but it was nowhere close enough for any significant move to be made. Luna frowned slightly. She had to keep putting off the assumption — or gut feeling, it didn't matter what she called it — that she knew him from somewhere. It wasn't helping her solve the problem at hoof.
He was Sombra, and she did not know him until it was proven otherwise.
He was also glaring at her.
"Don't think that anypony else hasn’t tried. I know exactly what you're thinking, and it will fail. You aren't the first to spot the spell. Unfortunately, you'll be the only one of the few that have lived long enough to catch sight of it."
She only blinked silently in response.
"I suppose I'm just lucky you're not the talkative sort."
Luna didn't respond. They kept walking. She had been wondering why he spoke in the Everfree language, closer to what she knew in her past. The kind the crystal ponies used, though he did not have the coat texture or eyes that marked him as one of their own. Even his magic control over crystals did not match what Luna had heard the crystal ponies describe their race's magic to be. When they had any magic, they could control the growth, conjuring, and other attributes of already-existing crystals. They also needed no winter coat because their kind was immune to the arctic cold. Sombra had a noticeably shaggier coat, along with features that were impossible for a unicorn to have. The crystals he had power over were unknown to her and beyond what the enslaved ponies described as their capabilities.
During her time here, she had not heard anything close to a rumor that suggested where he might have come from. No domestic gossip suggested that he was some kind of wicked whoreson or other likely culprits. In fact, what Luna had heard was that the Crystal Empire had been a blessed place before Sombra. One overflowing with the love it revered. It had never had whores — or anything like them — within its borders. Such was the majesty of its civilized, just past.
Luna was careful to stay on his right side, since he threatened her with the sword when she strayed from there. She was close enough to hear whatever he was muttering under his breath. It was about Celestia.
Somepony, as he put it, already encountered her. The way he spoke about the event — Sombra made it sound as though he were not the one who fought her.
Luna's mind whirled. Celestia had fought somepony else? Who could it be? Did they have the same kind of magic as Sombra?
She had to find her sister, and soon! First, she had to escape this and get her magic back.
Her hoof found her horn and futility pawed at the crystals that were now attached to it. She bit her lip and tried to stop her eyes from watering. Magic for her wasn't just a mere skill. In the case of a proper god, magic was something that ran deep in every part of their being. The only one who could remove these crystals...
"Oh, stop it, will you? Surely, you don't want to see me angry, which your obnoxious behavior will definitely result in if you keep this up," Sombra spat without looking at her. "I'm surprised you and your sister — as ridiculous as you are — have gotten anywhere with the lack of knowledge in regards to the magic that you display."
Sombra stopped walking, whirling around faster than the confused princess could react. He made sure that the flat of her sword was jammed under her throat hard enough that it hurt Luna to gulp. The crimson glow encircling it illuminated the king's disgusted sneer, as if to highlight the ever-present traces of the temper he displayed.
"I would have hoped that you, of all who walk upon this land, realize that emotion and focus can influence magic. It isn't some dead force you can order at whim, forcing it to do whatever the caster desires for the sake of their morbid curiosities. Magic is very alive, no matter the incarnation. You can weave it and order it to do something, and nothing you want will happen. To really excel at magic, you work with it, if you are going to use it properly at all."
Luna stared straight at Sombra. Never before had she heard magic described so well, despite the heavy layers of loathing in his tone.
"Magic wants to be free. If you don't treat it as such, it might even turn on you by waiting desperately for you to make one mistake. And when you do, it won't forgive. You won't break the spell, because you can't break me. Nopony has, although you bet that they have all tried before. Their failure was inevitable. I'm not a puppet that you can swap out. If you think a knife will end me, or any poison can go undetected, you are wrong. Do you think I won't notice a pony entering this castle? Well, guess what? Once again, you are wrong. I'm well aware of every attempt you will make against me, even if I still can barely find a single room in this damned place."
He kept going on. Luna kept staring. Sombra had lost it.
"I can and will anticipate every violent action you think up. I'm watching very carefully—"
"You do not sleep," Luna interjected, her eyes widening momentarily in the dark. At last, she understood!
The dark circles she could see under his eyes... Not knowing where to go... He seemed to be focused only on self-preservation and his own twisted welfare... Sombra was often lost in thought that manifested in the form of long comments and rambling speeches. Perhaps she could even chalk his abnormal anger and violence up to such a condition. She knew quite well what sleep deprivation could do to a creature in the long-term, but those qualities were admittedly harder to guess the origin of. If Sombra didn't sleep for eight years, he'd have to figure out a loophole to stay alive... Such as sustaining himself on his own magic, perhaps? He would also need to keep any negative effects on his mind at bay — which was partly what the shield had to be for.
She watched as anger shone in Sombra's eyes. After all, he was clearly not one who took kindly to be interrupted. Shining in them was the wellspring of confirmation and wrath she needed, all gushing forth as richly as a fountain spring.
Everything seemed to be in slow motion to Luna. She could feel everything fit together in her mind. For that success, a small part of her somewhere deep inside was beaming with rare satisfaction. Luna could still use her hooves, even if it hurt to stretch them with the crystals still embedded in her skin.
He looked as if he was about to ready his other foreleg to strike her savagely. Instead, Sombra tried to drive the sword's point into her throat. She pushed the blade away just in time, and stumbled to the side as swiftly as possible.
Sombra himself said he could predict any attempt to wound him. That he anticipated every kind of cruelty. The paranoia in his eyes behind misery, anger, and insanity spoke clearly of this. So clearly, in fact, that Luna was sure she could have noticed — perhaps at a later time — this even if he had lied to her. His tongue could say anything, but the rest of him couldn't back up those words. In doing so, he revealed the perfect way for anypony observant and crazy enough to reverse the effects of his impressive spell.
All of this gave Luna what was possibly the most insane plan she’d ever had to date—and would ever have.
She grabbed Sombra in her forehooves. Before he could figure out what was going on, she kissed him.
After a few seconds, she pushed the horribly confused Sombra away. He was definitely not focused on his spell. Luna reached up to her horn. It was free, as was the rest of her form. Her coat may have been marked with wounds, and her wings still needed healing, but it all paled in comparison to the fact that she was—
Gone.
Luna ran down the halls so fast that she might as well have been healed already. She had to find Celestia. Even if her sister didn't have her magic right now, they could still come up with a new plan. Her sword was at her side once again instead of being aimed at her own neck. Luna's horn sparked to life. A thread of magic as faint and delicate as gossamer began floating through the halls, flickering as it went. Its path was fragmented as it tried to find the familiar magical signature of Celestia.
Meanwhile, Sombra was exactly where Luna left him. He was sitting down with an expression of pure terror on his face and a stare too vivid to ever be considered glassy-eyed. Eight years of hallucinations and terrifying madness were ready to descend on his mind now that the bubble keeping them at bay was gone.
Sombra screamed and screamed, the spell that made his voice sound so unnaturally sinister dispelled due to strain.
...
Luna found Celestia near the ruins of some kind of furniture, many corridors down and far away from where she had been. Being in this castle felt smothering, especially in this room, pinpricks traveling throughout her body with each step. Why was Celestia just sitting there? Why did that door lead to nowhere?
Luna walked toward Celestia, staring into her eyes. They were just like the king's, but with a distant look in them—as if Celestia had experienced years of torment just by sitting here. She placed a hoof on her sister's wither. Her white coat was streaked with a cold sweat. She had no discernable reaction to the gesture.
"Celestia?" she called softly.
Her sister remained silent. Luna sighed with relief; this behavior was not of her own accord. She was glad that she had at least checked that. So what could be causing this? Luna looked around, trying to scan for any clues. A door that went nowhere was certainly telling. It was as cold and barren as everything else in this castle... Except that it didn't look like any of the other doors in the castle. Why would somepony like Sombra attach a frame to a wall like this for no reason? He wouldn't—not after what she had seen of him.
Celestia was staring at the empty doorframe and looking at the gray wall. There was something about the door that was doing this to her, and it involved the king's magic. But how did it work?
Luna tapped her hoof on the floor for a moment, before she was jolted out of thought by the crystal at the top. That must be where the magic was coming from! Sombra could use the crystals to cast spells of their own, after all. Enchanting crystals wasn't an unknown concept, just one that wasn't nearly as advanced as Sombra's spells. Now that Luna knew how to disable the door, she channeled as much magic into her horn as possible, until the entire room could barely contain the glow as it was bathed in waves of blue. She then fired it at the crystal, covering her ears at the whistling and unearthly bloodcurdling howl that sounded throughout the room at its destruction.
It was too much to bear. She gritted her teeth and shut her eyes. Why wouldn't it stop?
Luna didn't see the curl of green and purple smoke escape from the shards, and how the miasma floated towards Celestia. That floating, foggy substance was drawn to everything it knew about her. Every vision, weakness, fear, and memory. It slipped into her heart—the only place where it could nurture the seeds of darkness that may sprout. There it would wait, completely undetected.
Celestia blinked and clutched her head. "Luna, what was that awful noise?"
...
If he can make it through everything he sees right now, he might still have a chance.
The hallways are dark, and they move constantly, shifting around him like an enchanted maze of horror. Or maybe it's just an effect of his disoriented stumbling. The walls were crystal. Even when he arrived, that did not change, as everything else had. The walls were mirrors, each showing distorted portions of something around him, including Sombra himself.
Sombra blinked and rubbed his eyes, his head spinning.
There were two Alicorns... He remembered them... Sisters, right? Yes, they were two sisters — the memories said as much. He needed to concentrate. They were the wards of Starswirl the Bearded. He knew that much from the secondhoof inheritance in his head.
What were their names again? He never got the correct name of the older one, but the younger one... Ugh, what hall was he in again? Wait, she was the one that dispelled the shield! Sombra's jaw tensed with rage.
That one.
Part of his mind cleared as he recalled being near the throne room. He heard hoofsteps coming from that direction as well.
"Celestia!" called a familiar voice. Sombra was still coherent enough to hear the echoing voice of the mare called Luna.
Slowly, he could feel a bit more focus creeping back through the fever dream-like visions dancing in his eyes and clouding his mind. He needed to go there. Where the sisters were.
This time, it's personal.
...
Celestia turned to follow her sister, rubbing her head from the lingering headache. She saw something in that door...
What had it been?
Gray. She had seen evil, hadn't she? And what else would evil be but the creeping, tainted gray death that sought to corrupt all that made up the black and white reality? No, not what. She had seen no what, but there was a faint recollection of who. Celestia had seen Luna there...
Celestia was promptly pulled from her wandering thoughts by Luna calling her name. They were back in the throne room now, which was where Luna had been trying to usher Celestia. Admittedly, the idea of Luna trying to lead Celestia anywhere was deeply disturbing.
"Celestia, do you have any plan, or should I come up with one...?" Luna asked. Her voice trailed off and gradually became quieter with each word. She was still using the speech of a mortal. Celestia knew that would change once they got back to the Everfree Forest. After all, Luna wasn't one to give up her habits.
Celestia's ears then pricked at a faint sound — hoofsteps belonging to neither her nor her sister. As she gazed at the false throne before them, her face twisted in disgust.
A real monarch sat there once, before the evil king had ever set hoof in this land...
Her eyes found a hallway. Across the room, Luna's hoof pointed at King Sombra, whose gait was much like a drunken, fatigued stumble. He glowered at Luna, who stood stoically in Celestia's shadow. Or maybe it was just a shadow, since all were shadows in this castle. Sombra didn't know the exact spell these two would use, but, even in his delirium, he knew he couldn't fight. A shield like that was not cast in an instant, after all. But he wouldn't lose either. There were still many spells and enchantments he had wrought into this castle.
He could barely stand as it was. Sombra saw Luna and the other mare—who must be Celestia—light their horns in unison. Through the blindfold of hallucinations, he stared at the blue mare with infinite loathing. She would be his greatest enemy.
Sombra blinked.
A nearly buried part of him wanted to smile at what they didn't know. But he was Sombra, and Sombra didn't smile.
Their eyes were glowing now.
...
The moon shone down on the vast expanses of northern land. Not a structure stood for miles. Only the glistening snow that shimmered in the dim starlight shone in the arctic night, since there were no clouds to obscure it. The red clouds had long since cleared. Luna had just lowered the moon only minutes before. It had still been hanging high in the sky; the lovely night needed to be prolonged to offer the two goddesses the cover to escape in. Despite her brief interaction with the sky, every second felt like an eternity as the world held its breath. Everything around them was too quiet. The silence, heavy as the cold wind, whipped up small flurries to travel up the rolling hills. Even the howling of the winds had abated for now.
The tall forms of two Alicorn mares looked out onto this land. Celestia did not move. She didn't seem to breathe either. The elder sister chose to remain as petrified as a marble statue etched with all the weight of fear. In her eyes, the remains of tears were present. He really was more powerful than they had thought. To make an entire city and even a few nearby mountains disappear like that... It had to have been something that was laid out long before they arrived. She wasn't really sure. Even before the tribal times and the Old World had vanished, they both knew that mortals were not known for such feats.
All of this was even more desolate than the castle had been.
The wails of the wind were dull in her ear now that they had resumed. Ringing in her ears was the echo of the panicked screams from the castle that they had escaped. Celestia had tried with every bit of magic she had left, but it was all in vain. She was earnestly drained from having to fight the king and then—with the aid of Luna—tear apart his living form and bend it into a living shadow the sisters sealed into a pocket dimension. Their combined, divine might had ripped and anchored his immaterial form into the ice where they stood now, beyond the limits of tangibility.
After that task, which only exhausted Celestia's magic further, the sisters stumbled about in varying degrees of dizziness. It felt like some force had tilted the castle — something no exhaustion-induced vertigo could inflict upon them that severely.
When it happened again, Celestia had almost panicked. Her entire world momentarily went black as she lost all sense not tied to her body. Luna's did too. It felt like they were both hurtled across the room with nothing around or under them. When they had opened their eyes, both of their hearts racing, Celestia and Luna had found themselves an entire level below the throne room, surrounded by blanket-covered furniture swept up in dust. Everything was utterly unrecognizable. The horrifying, plummeting sensation that had torn through them was not for nothing.
Luna noticed that, when it happened again, they dropped another level down. Then, three floors vanished at once.
The king was gone, having been successfully defeated by them both. So, what was happening? He hadn't placed a spell on either of the goddesses.
Before it could occur again, Luna had rushed over to an exposed window and broken its glass and frame with a bolt of godly lightning. All around them, the two goddesses could see what was happening at last. The houses and other structures bordering the city were gone in the same dark blinks. As were the farmlands, and even the few crystal ponies who were savaging the ruins of the city. From that cracked window, everything else was fading before the eyes of the two sisters.
Something had been cast that was long past the point of being undone — and certainly not with the caster sealed beyond the reach of death and life.
Celestia and Luna had watched as the castle flickered around them like it were hardly any different than the holo-gem's projection, instead of a solid and mighty structure. The stomachs of both sisters churned — but at least they stayed on the same floor this time. The lingering, poisonous knowledge of how temporary that stability was gnawed at them.
In the present moment, Celestia inhaled once, sharply taking in all the icy air. She thought of all the crystal ponies who had vanished with this place. It would be foolish to pretend that she hadn't heard at least one scream as the tortured residents were pulled into a dimension of their own—once more under the king's lock and the key, even if he wasn't with them.
Celestia had tried to save them when she stood in that last hallway, using the only magic she had left to try to piece everything together, because she could fix this. She had to — that was what heroes did! She could fix everything! Her ponies told her so every time she saw them! Tears had run down her face as her heart was wrenched. She overexerted herself, doing everything to save everypony. Her magic was thoroughly diminished, and even felt sealed — probably from so much use. She yelled and screamed until her throat felt raw for Luna to stay when she heard her younger sister scrambling away.
She still recalled that Luna had been on the verge of flying out of the remains of the window, her own hooves and pasterns bleeding from the remnants of glass shards she stood upon and had resorted to breaking manually. Luna, with terror in her tone, and an urgent look in her eyes, begged Celestia to leave, asserting that King Sombra had been powerful enough to do this. Maybe the spell was set up over the course of years—but he still managed to do so, and couldn't Celestia understand how much of a match he had been for them? They had lost, as awful it had been… But mortal spells do not last forever, and even their pure might had the potential to expire when cast forth so hastily. Yet, if they stayed for much longer, they would be gone as well.
Celestia had refused to listen. Luna had taken advantage of her sister's desperation and exhaustion, both physical and magical. She had dragged Celestia from the ruined place kicking and screaming like a heartbroken child.
She wouldn't forget what Luna had done—how vile and unkind it was.
The sun princess took one last look at the empty plain before turning to fly away, the cold of the blizzard already at her back. Luna would join her soon enough. By this point, Celestia didn't care if she didn't. Celestia believed that Luna had sacrificed the opportunity to save so many... She refused to sacrifice herself when the lives of mortals had to be put first and foremost. Why… If things really came down to pure technicalities, only one princess was needed to return to the Triarchy with the promise of a Crystalline colony. Was it even possible to forgive an action that Celestia considered so selfish?
...
Luna remained for quite a while after her sister left. Perhaps she would catch up when Celestia was thinking straight — if Celestia would be another matter entirely. The princess of the night reached up and put a hoof to her throat. Celestia, along with all of Equestria, felt more like a heavy collar attached to worldly chains than anything else. The Triarchy was three chains, or perhaps only one. Mortals were a burden, certainly, but were they enough to be three whole weights in a life that was devolving into drowning? Celestia was definitely one, and Luna's own conflicts were another.
Snow swirled around her, but she did not shiver. Everypony back in Equestria was colder and crueler than the snow and ice could ever be.
The ponies here would haunt Celestia for a long time, that was true. It wasn't that Luna did not care for them; she just wasn't sure that was the greatest mystery of the Crystal Empire. Having an everlasting life only made her understand that what she had was a treasure, and that she needed to take care of herself. If that meant fleeing a losing battle to fight another day, so be it. The hope of another victory was infinitely more important than the certainty of loss that came from delusions of self-sacrifice. In the event that they were ever seen again, who would fight for the crystal ponies? Especially in the event that everypony who had a chance at saving them and knew where they were found themselves entombed beyond death with them?
A long time ago, as a young filly, Luna had dreamed of the kind of fire that Sombra had power over. Although… the eyes were much different than Sombra's had been. She had a feeling she would be seeing a lot more of that magic—whatever it was—at some dusk yet to come.
'Do you feel like a hero yet?'
Famous last words, Sombra, Luna thought, before she took to the skies as well.
She only stopped to toss what was once her sword on the ground. All that was left behind were the broken shards of a silver sword, resting in the snow. Its pieces were the one thing that had not succumbed to the vanishing. Luna had found them glittering in the snow during the initial bewilderment she felt. In Celestia's desperate attempt to resist Luna's removal of her from the site of the castle, it had been cracked beyond repair, leaving it as a brittle stick of a once-proud weapon. Why bother taking it back to a forge?
For over a thousand years, they would sit undisturbed.
