Flanked on both sides by Sombra's guards, Brimstone trod lightly down the long, crystalline hallway. He set his jaw and rotated his shoulders back for the fourth time, but as his heart raced, he slouched again, and his eyes darted to the ponies on either side of him.
Brimstone couldn't stop staring at those hollow, green eyes that never seemed to look anywhere. They were nothing but glowing, green slits in those metal helmets, and if not for the small amount of fur that showed through the spiky, metal armor, Brimstone wouldn't have even known there were ponies inside. Several more guards lined their walkway, while others stood motionless at each door. None of them appeared to breathe.
The hallway was cold and stark, made entirely of dark purple and blue crystals. Brimstone had heard tales of the brightness of the Crystal Empire, how it had seemed so lustrous and beautiful before Sombra had reclaimed his throne. He silently wondered what it would have looked like if Twilight and the other Elements of Harmony had stopped him all those years ago.
He walked down the plush, red carpet, its softness achingly familiar. The guards marched in step on either side of it. Their metal hoof-covers beat against the crystalline floor with a distressingly rhythmic clank.
Brimstone nickered softly, and he adjusted his gray wings as he stole another look at the tool tied to them. At first glance, it appeared that he was wearing normal leather armor, but the wingtips had been replaced with dark, sharp stones that glinted in the castle's dim light. His breathing calmed when he saw the slight glow at the edges of the blades.
Brimstone swallowed his fear and glared at the large, blue doors at the end of the hallway, which stood two stories tall. He and his entourage approached rapidly, deathly quiet, and stopped in front of the entrance. Mechanically, the two guards paused, then lowered their heads and pushed the doors open in perfect synchronicity. The doors made heavy grinding noise as they opened, and soon, not twenty meters ahead of him, Brimstone saw a stallion staring back at him. He had a grey coat and a black mane, just like Brimstone's, though Brimstone's mane was short and ended in red highlights instead of flowing like a sea of dark oil. The stallion opposite him was seated on a throne, and from the moment the doors had opened, his eyes had been squarely on Brimstone.
Brimstone's chest tightened up, and his legs locked into place, even as his heart nearly burst and his gut told him to rush forward in a joyful scream. He fought back tears of happiness and rage all at once.
King Sombra, Emperor of the Crystal Empire, sat on his throne with a venomous smile. His voice dripped with malice as he took in a long, full breath and said, "Welcome home, son."
Brimstone loved the gardens, even if his daddy made him dress up in that stupid, hot cape and armor. It was all too heavy, and it constricted his wings, but at least he and daddy matched. Brimstone bounced on his hooves until he caught a sideways glance from Sombra, at which point he puffed out his chest, just like he was supposed to, and tilted his head up, just like he was supposed to. He cast a glance back, and he saw his daddy smile warmly. "Much better," Sombra rumbled.
A servant opened the door, and the two rulers marched proudly out into the gardens. Beautiful flowers, half of them made of carved crystal, lined the sides of the pathway. With a stoic expression, Sombra slowly turned his head to survey the garden, and Brimstone did the same, albeit with a few quick checks to match his father's pace. With a nod, Sombra walked along the path with Brimstone a half-step behind.
Brimstone felt butterflies in his stomach and his legs, but he checked his urge to run around in the flowers. His daddy had told him that today was important, and he was determined not to let him down. He reminded himself to be regal, royal, and… some other word that he couldn't remember. He matched his father step for step, and as long as Sombra wasn't sneering at him, Brimstone knew he was doing a good job.
The walk was slow and pleasant, and Brimstone was starting to understand how acting big could be almost as much fun as running around. Almost.
At the edges of his vision, several gardeners tended to the flowers. They pruned the live ones and sculpted new ones out of crystal, but they never met the prince's eyes. Brimstone knew they weren't supposed to, but he wondered why they never wanted to wave or anything.
Brimstone sucked in a quick breath and looked ahead.
Sombra spoke evenly and in a hushed tone. "Remember, son. They are below us. They rely on us to guide them, like a shepherd would his flock." His voice took on a darker tone. "And when they are out of line, then need to be punished. You understand."
Brimstone shrunk. "I…" He wasn't sure he understood at all. He'd wanted somepony else to play with, but his father had always forbidden mingling with the commoners. "Uh…"
Sombra barked, "What are you doing?"
Brimstone snapped up, and his father's voice said in his mind, 'Show no weakness.'Brimstone said, "I understand, Your Majesty."
"Good." Sombra looked down the path. "You must understand. Today is–" His mouth hung open for just a moment. Brimstone felt a chill run up his spine. It was unusual for daddy to pause. "Today, you must show me that you understand."
They walked, and Brimstone enjoyed the sights and the smells, until they came across a pink crystal pony with a teal-and-saffron mane. She visibly shook as she trimmed a crystal flower with a small, black blade. As soon as they approached her, she set down her tool, bowed, and greeted them. "Good morning, Your Majesties."
"Observe, son," Sombra said in a calm tone. Lifting his head high, he looked down at the gardener pony and boomed, "Servant, you know better than to be in our way. Explain your unsightly presence."
The crystal pony's eyes went wide, and she bowed lower. "I-I'm sorry, Your Majesty. You asked me to continue working while you and the young prince toured the garden, and I didn't want to disobey."
Sombra yelled, "That betrays my rules, servant!"
The pony quaked, "But, Your Majesty–"
"But what? You dare speak back to me?" He leaned forward, and purple haze billowed from his fierce eyes. "You are nothing, servant! Count your breaths, and thank your stars you have any left at all." He turned and said to Brimstone, "This pony has spoken out of line, son. Do you know what we must do?"
Brimstone cocked his head to the side. "She needs to be punished?"
Sombra beamed. "Excellent." He whipped his head towards the gardener and flicked a serpentine tongue. "She must pay for her hubris."
The pony shuddered and whimpered.
Sombra held his head high and called, "Guards! This underling has dared–"
"But…" Brimstone said.
Sombra tensed, then slowly looked at his son. "But what?"
"But… you told her to be here. It's not fair if you said that–"
"Brimstone!" Sombra snarled. "These cretins are worthless! Fairness does not apply to them! They are below us!" His voice cracked just slightly. "She must be punished."
Brimstone frowned. "Why? She did what you asked."
Sombra's eyes softened, and his expression collapsed. "Son, you must understand. Just today." The smoke stopped billowing from his eyes. "Show me. Show me that you can learn your place, son." His eyes stopped smoking entirely, which Brimstone knew was against the rules when in public. "Just once. You must."
Brimstone froze.
The corners of Sombra's eyes turned downward. "Please."
Brimstone's jaw opened. He had never heard daddy use that word with anypony before. He'd been told so many times that, as emperor, he didn't need to ask anything. He needed only demand it. But here daddy was, asking him – him! His son! – for something. Brimstone furrowed his brows and said, "She… was just following orders."
Sombra sucked in a breath and stared at Brimstone. Brimstone thought he saw a glint in his father's eye, but Sombra quickly stood up and looked into the distance, eyes unfocused. "I see," he whispered.
The guards rushed up. "Sire! Has this servant harmed you?" Their voices rattled in their metal helmets.
Sombra spoke softly and in quick phrases. "No. She has done nothing. It matters not." He took a shuddering sigh. "Spare her."
The other guard said, "Sire?"
Sombra spoke in clipped words. "Take my son inside. It's… nearly time for his nap."
Brimstone whined, "But daddy, we just came outside."
Sombra didn't acknowledge him. He stood like a statue, staring at nothing. "You will watch over him carefully. Tell the steward to prepare him some hot cocoa. Make it with–" He choked up slightly, then sighed. "Tell him: extra nutmeg."
Brimstone's tail thrashed behind him. "You're not mad, da–, er, Your Highness? Thank you!" He wheeled around in front of his father and looked up, but Sombra didn't meet his stare. "Daddy?"
Sombra didn't move.
Brimstone cocked his head to the side, and his tail continued to wag. "Okay, I'll see you tonight." Brimstone regained his composure and marched away with the guards, leaving Sombra behind.
As he walked away, he heard his father whisper, "…a disappointment."
Sombra sighed and shifted his weight. "No, I suppose you are not." He leaned on one foreleg rest on his throne. "No son of mine would be such a coward."
Brimstone yelled back, "I am no coward! You are! You could not face having a son like me, a son with morals. With mercy."
Sombra yawned. "A weakling, you mean. That is all you are. A lesser pony, like every other. Inferior." He frowned. "And you could have been so much more." He pointed a lazy hoof. "Weakling."
Brimstone stomped a hoof. "I'm not weak. And my name is Brimstone."
Sombra shook his head. "You are not worthy of that name. You are not worthy of anything, not even a cup of cocoa." He smiled wickedly. "Tell me: do you still like it with nutmeg?"
Brimstone sneered. "Not since you poisoned me."
"Ha!" Sombra slapped a hoof onto the foreleg rest. "Poisoned? Don't be so dramatic. Sleep powder is hardly poisonous."
With a defiant snort, Brimstone yelled, "How could you send me away like that? I never even got to say goodbye!"
Sombra slammed a hoof on his throne and bellowed back, "Silence! I found the slightest sparkle of pity in my black heart and merely exiled you. I even spared you a painful goodbye, no less!"
Brimstone could feel the guards a few paces behind him, but still, he yelled threateningly across the large, empty room. "Why didn't you just kill me?" His voice echoed off the barren walls and large windows.
Sombra hesitated, then smirked. "I still wonder that to this day. I think part of me relished the idea of Celestia having to deal with you." He looked up and to the side, then nodded to himself. "Yes, you were useful there. I could have sent an assassin at any time, and that would have given me plenty of pretense to end this silly armistice of ours." Sombra nodded to himself and flashed a toothy grin. "Yes. Useful. It was useful to have you there, a constant itch in the back of Celestia's mind, and a reminder of her student's greatest failure."
Brimstone narrowed his gaze and took a step forward. The guards began to flank him, but they stopped when Sombra held up a hoof. Brimstone said, "That is not all."
Sombra paused, then stiffly asked, "How have you been, Weakling? I don't suppose I missed anything of note while you were away. After all, you, with your morals, would never embrace the power you were born into. You would certainly never…" He flicked a hoof mockingly. "…give in, would you?"
Sweat rolled off Brimstone's brow. He looked around at the rest of his high school flying team and drank in the cheers from the crowd. The name "Cloudsdale Blue Hawks" flashed onto the scoreboard, and Brimstone smiled as their score followed soon after. They had a 95.4, a respectable score for such a difficult aerial steeplechase. It wasn't quite a record for the regional meet, but it put them comfortably in first place. With only one team left, Brimstone finally allowed himself to picture his team competing at nationals.
Brimstone and his team breathed heavily as they walked to the sidelines to stretch their wings. Brimstone waved to his adoptive parents in the stands, who were literally bouncing in their seats as they waved back. He slapped his teammate, Glitter, with one of his over-sized wings and smirked. "You picked a good time for a personal best, G-Colt."
Glitter blushed, but tried to sit tall on the bench. "Thanks, Beasto."
The rest of the team shared a round of congratulations. Another teammate, Dewdrop, leaned in to Brimstone and said, "You think we've got this?"
Brimstone smirked back at her. "I know we do." He felt a familiar tickle at the back of his mind, and his heart swelled in way that felt menacing yet comfortable. His smile twisted, and he felt a rumble build in his chest.
Dewdrop's smile twitched. "You're… doing it again, Beasto."
Brimstone gasped slightly and shook out his mane. "Oh. Sorry." He blinked hard a few times. "Just excited, I guess."
The team joked and stretched. An adolescent blue dragon passed them cups of water, which they drank deeply. Moments later, the last team lined up at the starting line, and the gun went off, quickly drowned out by a grandstand's worth of cheering ponies. The Blue Hawks leaned forward on the bench, but when one of the fliers clipped the first aerial hurdle, they relaxed back into their seats.
Glitter peeked around Brimstone and chuckled to Dewdrop. "We've got this, DD. You can stop freaking out."
Dewdrop bounced in place and mumbled to herself, "We're going to nationals. We're going to nationals!"
Brimstone nodded. "You've got that right, DD. We're just…" He trailed off when he looked up again. The Las Pegasus High Rollers were doing well. Better than well. Besides the initial slip-up, the team was executing every obstacle flawlessly. Even more than that, they were fast.
Glitter's tone dropped. "They're… really good."
Brimstone's instincts took over. "Hey, no worries, G. They've got nothing on…" He looked back at the High Rollers. True to their name, they nailed the barrel-roll series, and with every flap of their wings, they seemed to gain speed.
Brimstone's mouth hung open. He started rapidly doing calculations in his head, and the more he watched, the more his stomach twisted. The High Rollers would get the full ten points on the rings, probably at least nine and a half on the over-unders, another ten on the cloud tunnel. They were on track to…
Dewdrop stopped bouncing. "No way. No way."
Brimstone's breathing became shallow. He could feel the hope draining from his team members beside him, but he couldn't look away. 'No,' he thought. 'No, not like this. We worked so hard. I cannot have let them down.'
Cold fear spread through his entire body, but soon, he heard a dark thought at the back of his head. 'Look at those monsters.' Brimstone narrowed his eyes. 'They're trying to take it away from us. Don't they know how hard we worked? My team will be crushed if they lose now, and Glitter even got a personal best!'
The longer he watched, the louder the voice became, and Brimstone found he couldn't tear his eyes away from the rival team's captain. 'Their captain thinks he's better than me. He is not. He is a weakling.' His icy fear turned to a warm annoyance, then bubbling anger, and then a hot, seething rage. 'He needs to be put into place. My teammates deserve glory. We have earned our spot.' The High Rollers were on the final obstacle. Brimstone snarled. 'And these ponies are so much less than us.'
Brimstone shouted, "No!"
It happened in the blink of an eye. Brimstone grit his teeth, and something surged to life deep inside him. A small, black spot appeared on the High Roller's captain's wing. He faltered, and the crowd gasped. The spot grew, forming a small, black crystal on the joint of the pony's wing, and he dropped like a stone in front of the screaming crowd.
Voices beside Brimstone shouted wordlessly. All he could hear were two ideas that echoed in his mind: a feeling of mournful grief, and a satisfied glee that this pony was about to pay for his hubris. Together, these feelings excited him, grew inside him and made him feel satisfied in a way he'd never known. He found himself huffing and growling as the crystal grew, and as the safety techs moved in to catch the falling captain, Brimstone thought, 'They deign to help a failure? The fools! No matter. Three birds with one–"
A splash of cold water ripped him back to reality. Brimstone gasped and whipped his head to see the dragon standing there with a bucket of water. Brimstone wanted to bark at him, but the rhythmic movements of the sapphire in the dragon's tail calmed him, almost hypnotically.
The dragon frowned and spoke with a Trottish accent. "Yer… Yer face looked like it was aflame, lad. Smoke 'n everything."
Brimstone didn't breathe. As his senses returned to him, he quickly looked around and saw the techs narrowly catch the falling captain. As the weight of what he'd tried to do settled onto him, he felt repulsed, like he needed to claw his way out of his own skin, and he felt very, very small.
The fire in Brimstone's eyes died, and he looked down at the floor.
Sombra made a little circle with his hoof. "I heard about the whole thing, of course. Equestria isn't that hard to spy on."
Brimstone remained still.
Sombra flicked a hoof, and the guards surrounding Brimstone turned unnaturally slowly and marched out the chamber door. They closed it with a loud boom.
Sombra stood and stretched out his back. "You should have used your power at nationals, too. It would have been an easy victory."
Brimstone finally looked up. "I am not a monster."
Sombra scoffed. "Please. 'Monster' is just what the mice call the eagles. They cannot even comprehend the role they play in the greater scope of things. But no, you are not a monster, and it is a crying shame. Perhaps your team would not have come dead last at nationals if you had not abandoned them."
Brimstone grit his teeth and took an aggressive stance. "I would not risk hurting somepony else."
Sombra's hackles raised. "Exactly! And because you are so weak, your team suffered. You see how this works?" The tip of Sombra's curved horn flared to life, and for a moment, the room was filled with a deep red glow that subsided in a heartbeat. "The peasants need a strong leader to guide them, or they fail. When we abdicate our place, they suffer. Everypony suffers."
Brimstone snorted and took a step forward. "They suffer when you–"
An ghostly, nearly-invisible blade slashed against the ground in front of him, slicing into the red carpet. Brimstone startled and looked quickly at Sombra, who was smiling. "You approach only when I deem you worthy, son."
With a defiant stomp of his hoof, Brimstone shouted, "I decide when I am worthy!"
Sombra's head rolled back. "Ha! A fine jest. You could not manage a trinket shop full of useless knickknacks, much less a kingdom."
Brimstone sighed in the lower level of his workshop. The soft glow of the crystal lamps around him soothed him, and the whole room was littered with artistic creations, from large, decorative chairs to a tiny, black statuette of a stallion, highlighted with red gems. He looked over his newest crystal sculpture: a unicorn casting a protective spell. He was particularly proud of the magical shield. It was carved from translucent faux diamond, and it captured the strong beauty of the spell he emulated.
Brimstone whispered, "There we are," as he sliced a tiny fragment off of a jagged edge with his wing blades. A tool of his own invention, they were attached to leather armor that slipped over his wings, with blades at the edges that he could manipulate with great precision.
The statue was half-completed, and Brimstone knew it would take another month of work to get it just right, but he felt so close. It would look stunning.
But then he realized what would make it better, and his expression flattened. What was the pony defending itself from? A black crystal would make an excellent opponent for this little pony. His heart beat faster, and he considered his options as he tried to ignore a dark voice at the back of his mind.
Looking around his workshop, he saw Izkael, his Trottish dragon friend and now-roommate, curled up in a bed in the corner and snoring lightly. His blue scales gave a soft reflection from the gem lamps, and his orange belly appeared to glow in the dim light. A few of his reddish-orange spines on his back and joints poked into the bed, creating even more holes that Brimstone silently promised he'd patch up one day. As Izkael breathed, his tail swayed, and Brimstone stared at the gentle movement of the blue sapphire inlaid in it until he calmed down.
Back in his senses, Brimstone bit his lower lip. Izkael wouldn't notice anything if he was asleep. True, his friend had agreed to sleep in his workshop to prevent exactly what Brimstone was considering doing, but if he could sell the piece fast enough… and after all, who wouldn't love a one-of-a-kind black opal atop their new statue?
Brimstone gasped as he heard the bell ring at the front door. He looked around, then sneered and cursed himself for nearly giving in again. Quietly, he slipped off his wing blades and tossed an old sheet over the statue. With a few flaps of his extremely wide wings, ascended to the shop, mindful of the squeaky steps so as not to wake his friend.
Brimstone reached the top of the steps, closed the door behind him, and greeted the dark blue pegasus mare that stood looking at some of his creations. The store was not so different from his workshop: colorful sculptures covered every surface, with a nearly life-size bust of Izkael on a pedastal in the center. The crystals caught the light of the sun and painted the room in a beautiful, soft rainbow.
Brimstone said brightly, "Welcome to The Crystal Cavern. How may I serve you?"
The mare didn't take her eyes from a sapphire candelabra. "Hi. Yeah. I'm Stardust. Looking for a gift for my coltfriend."
Brimstone took a deep breath and gave his warmest smile. "He's a very lucky stallion."
Stardust glanced at him, then smiled slightly.
Brimstone continued. "And I would be pleased to assist. Do you think your coltfriend would like something more artistic or more practical?"
"Oh, practical. Definitely." She picked up and felt the weight of a crystal teapot. "Do you deliver? I really don't want to have to fly back into town with something heavy."
Brimstone nodded. "I or my assistant would be happy to deliver it personally."
"Well, that's good." She set the teapot down. "Why are you out at the edge of Cloudsdale, anyway? It's a hell of a flight from downtown."
Brimstone tried to hide his wince, and his leg twitched reflexively. His mind reeled with reasons: he couldn't hurt anypony if he flew off the handle out here, he wouldn't be judged for being reclusive, he wouldn't hear the whispers from the citizenry about the banished son of Sombra… But he cleared his throat and said plainly, "Cheaper rent."
Stardust shrugged. "Eh, makes sense." She held up one of a set of dinnerware. "How much for these?"
Brimstone calmly said, "Forty bits for the set of eight."
"Are you serious?" She sneered at the plate and gingerly set it down. "That's outrageous!"
Brimstone's wings drooped, but he covered by stretching them out. His stomach twisted. He knew it was a reasonable price, if a bit rich for most ponies' tastes, but he needed to make a sale or two if he wanted oats on the table. Turning up the charm, he leaned casually against the counter and allowed his slight accent to come through. "You have a fine eye. I may be able to offer a discount."
Stardust shook her head. "I don't know…"
Brimstone chuckled. "Well, you came into my shop, so you certainly have exquisite taste. That dinner set would be the envy of the Canterlot nobility themselves." He left out why, of course: the nobility have a perverse love of the exotic and dangerous, and what better way to show off than by commissioning the son of a tyrant?
Stardust looked around again. "I'm sure it would be, but Iron's not really the kind of–"
Brimstone tensed and thought of his food bill. He said calmly, "You want to show him you care, do you not? Even practical ponies like being the center of attention sometimes." The world took on just the slightest green tint.
Stardust visibly relaxed and stared at Brimstone. Her voice mellowed. "Hm… You might have a point."
Brimstone's skin tingled. His voice lowered, far more than would usually be comfortable, and his mouth felt like it was full of warm, black tar. The world looked greener. 'We both want them to be happy. She just needs a little push.' He reached out to her in his mind, beckoning her closer, and she obeyed, unblinking. Brimstone purred, "This Iron of yours… Certainly he is worth a meager forty bits."
Stardust wore a vacant smile. "He's certainly worth forty bits," she said dreamily.
"And…" Brimstone rumbled. His body felt large and ethereal, like he could envelope everything in the room. "Think of how happy you'll be with the finest plates in Cloudsdale." His entire shop looked like he was viewing it through a deep, dark emerald, and his entire being felt full and powerful.
Stardust nodded slowly. "The finest in Cloudsdale."
Brimstone's chest rumbled with a low laugh, and he felt a jolt of intense satisfaction ripple through his body. "You seem to be seeing things my way."
"Of course. You're very wise, Your Majesty."
Bile rose in the back of Brimstone's throat. "What?" He blinked once, then again, and he stepped back, trying to force the green away. He shook his head around, then closed his eyes and told himself, 'No. No! Stop it!' He felt nauseous, like he could pass out at any moment.
When he looked back up, he saw Stardust rubbing her eyes. She groaned, set her hoof down, and squinted as she looked around the room. She raised an eyebrow, then took a few steps backwards as her eyes widened. She shook slightly, then quickly said, "Actually, I'm good. Th… Thank you." She didn't look at Brimstone as she quickly turned and raced out the door.
Brimstone stood breathless, staring as the bell above the door rang again.
A minute or so later, he whinnied loudly and cursed himself under his breath. He hefted his forelegs onto the counter and set his forehead down on the polished wood, wrapping his large wings around his face.
The stairs creaked behind him, and soon he heard a familiar voice ask, "Happen again, m'lad?"
Brimstone stood and rolled his shoulders back. "Yes."
Izkael cleared his throat and spoke with the same fullness he always used when he wanted to cheer Brimstone up. "Yer a long time dead, Brimmy. Don't waste yer livin' breath mopin'."
Brimstone set his hoof down on the carpet, just shy of the cut mark. He rolled his shoulders back, folded his wings in, and spoke clearly. "I have made some mistakes, father. As have you."
Sombra frowned, his eyebrows knit. With a sudden softness to his voice, he said, "Of course. I am looking at one right now."
Brimstone glowered. "Then allow me to relieve you of the burden." He leaned forward, flared out his massive wings, and pointed the tips at Sombra. The tips of his trusty wing blades were fashioned with impossibly black obsidian.
Sombra's head cocked to the side, and he laughed. "You did finally grow a spine, then. Excellent." He squinted at Brimstone. "And from the looks of it, you prefer to use bladed weapons. I accept, and I will even spare you the embarrassment of using magic."
Sombra twirled his head, his horn beaming with purple light. A wall of conjured smoke appeared behind his throne, easily ten meters wide and five tall, and the temperature in the room dropped noticeably. The smoke solidified into a wall of hundreds of different weapons, from morning stars to lances to dozens of varieties of swords.
Brimstone faltered as he took in the scope of the collection.
Sombra turned back towards Brimstone and grinned. "Impressive, is it not? But I'm sure those little wing knives will be just fine."
Izkael offered a bowl of stew to Brimstone, who lay with his eyes closed on the hammock in his workshop. "Lad, ye gotta eat. Ye nay have room inside ye for air."
Brimstone shook his head. "I'm sick of stew."
Izkael shrugged. "It'll get better, lad. I added some nutmeg I found in the pantry. Bit of an odd sweetness, but it's at least a little different."
Brimstone groaned.
After a pause, Izkael said, "I'll keep the pot warm. You just tell me if–"
The bell to the shop rang. Neither of them got up, but they took notice when a breathless voice shouted, "Prince Brimstone! Prince Brimstone, please!"
Brimstone sat bolt upright. "What?"
Izkael looked between the staircase and Brimstone. "Nay heard that one in years."
The voice, a mare's, shouted again, "Prince Brimstone, are you here? Please! I've come from the Empire!" She coughed. "There's not much time!"
Brimstone rolled out of bed and dashed up the stairs with Izkael close behind. "Hello? Yes, I am here. What is it?"
He stopped in his tracks at the top of the stairs, and an annoyed Izkael bumped into him. "What do ye see, lad?"
There in the shop, catching her breath, was a pink crystal pony with a teal-and-saffron mane. She wore a saddlebag that looked heavy, and her eyes lit up as she saw him "Prince Brimstone!" She tried to bow, but she tumbled and lay on the floor, gasping for breath.
Brimstone flew over the counter. "Izkael! Get her some water."
"Right, lad!" he shouted back as he dashed back down the stairs.
Gently, they guided the crystal pony down to the workshop, lay her on Izkael's bed, and tended to her until she caught her breath. When she had, she said, "Prince!"
Brimstone wrinkled his nose. "I'm… not a prince anymore. Please just call me Brimstone."
"Brimstone, then. Thank Celestia I've found you. King Sombra, he's…"
She nearly fainted, but as Brimstone and Izkael caught her, Izkael said, "Slow down, miss. Ye dinnae even tell us yer name."
"It's Rosewood, but that doesn't matter." She turned to Brimstone. "Sombra's… Sombra's going to assassinate the princesses. I escaped to come get help, but… But they wouldn't…" She coughed.
Brimstone's blood ran cold. "Assassins. Do the princesses know?"
Rosewood nodded. "They do, but they're hesitating. They don't want to risk all-out war, and they tried to detain me for my 'safety.' But they're not just after–"
Izkael asked, "Ye escaped Canterlot and made it all the way here?"
Rosewood smirked. "Compared to the Crystal Empire, a tower in Canterlot is nothing. Especially not with these." She reached into her saddlebag and pulled out several small picks and blades made of the blackest rock Brimstone had ever seen. She passed one to each of the others.
Brimstone examined it closely. The light barely glinted off its surface. "I have never seen this structure before. What are these made of?"
"They're Rockhoof's Obsidian," Rosewood said.
Izkael smiled. "Aye, from the north. Sharpest tools ye can make, if ye have the skill to craft 'em." He felt the weight of it in his claw, then deftly flipped it in the air and caught it. "You've a fine talent, miss."
Carefully, Brimstone just barely touched the edge of the blade. "Ow!" He shook his hoof, then stuck it in his mouth, feeling a surprisingly deep cut. "That's sharp!"
Rosewood nodded. "Sharp enough to cut through Sombra's crystal barrier. He's erected a giant wall around the city and reinforced it was crystal magic."
Brimstone tentatively set his hoof down on the ground. It still stung. In a low voice, he said, "Most tragic. He is preparing for war." He looked up and saw Rosewood frowning at him. "Do you... think he has the forces to win?"
"I…" Rosewood turned her head away. "I don't know."
Brimstone furrowed his eyebrows. "You think there is no hope for Equestria."
Rosewood expression hardened. "It's not just Equestria." She looked back at Brimstone. "Sombra's not going to stop there, and I can't let him enslave me again. I can't let him do that to the whole world."
Brimstone looked around the small shop and sighed. "Rosewood, I am truly sorry for the state of things, but if the princesses already know, then you have done your duty. We…" He glanced at their waning pile of oats. "…don't have much here, but you are welcome to it. You will be safe here."
"Safe?" Rosewood snapped. "Haven't you listened to anything I've said? I don't need to be safe – I need somepony to help me stop Sombra. Why do you think I even came to you?"
Brimstone backed away quickly. "What? No! I cannot go back there. He would kill me on sight!"
Rosewood stepped forward and shoved her face into his. "He'll kill or enslave everypony unless we do something. Please, Brimstone. We need you. Everypony needs you."
Brimstone shook his head. "I refuse! Celestia and Luna can take care of it. They will–"
Rosewood stomped. "They'll die! Brimstone, you're the only one that even has a chance of getting close to him. You must!"
Brimstone drew a breath to retort, but a heavy knock on the shop door upstairs stopped him. He collected himself, stood proudly, and said, "The answer is no. Excuse me." He turned and began walking up the steps.
A claw on his shoulder stopped him. "Lad… it's business hours."
Brimstone looked over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow. "Hm?"
Izkael's brow creased. "What kind of customer knocks during business hours?"
Brimstone eyes widened, and he rushed towards Rosewood. "What have you done!"
Rosewood looked him directly in the eye. "Those will be Celestia's guards. I heard what the princesses are planning. They're going to lock you up so you can't harm Equestria."
Brimstone's wings twitched and flared out. "What? Why? They have always left me alone! This will be no different. They–"
From upstairs, they heard the door fly open and a loud voice boom, "Prince Brimstone of the Crystal Empire. By order of Princesses Celestia and Luna, you will be escorted to Canterlot for your own safety."
Brimstone quaked. "This cannot be happening."
Rosewood met his gaze. "Brimstone, it's imprisonment here or take your chances. We have to go now!"
Brimstone hesitated.
With a hushed voice, Rosewood snapped, "You really thought they'd just let you hide here forever?"
When Brimstone still didn't move, Izkael grabbed him by his cheeks, turned Brimstone's head to face him, and looked him in the eye. "Lad, we dunna have a choice in the matter. I'll keep those guards off ye arse for a while, but ye cannae hide any longer. Ye have a responsibility to your subjects."
"I am… not a prince." Brimstone looked around his shop, and he felt tears well up. 'And I will have to face father.'
"None of that now. Up the chimney with ye." He reached under the mattress and pulled out a bag. "And take me rainy day snacks. Ye'll need 'em." He clapped Brimstone on the shoulders. "An' good luck to ye."
Brimstone frowned. "Izkael…"
"Ach, save the slobberin' for the return home, ye dullard." He shoved Brimstone away. "Go!"
Brimstone's heart raced, but he nodded, grabbed the bag and his wing blades, and raced to the chimney with Rosewood in tow. With one last look to his friend, he climbed up, just as the guards burst through the doorway.
Brimstone didn't falter, but eyes widened at the imposing wall of weapons.
Sombra's horn glowed, and a wide, ornamental broadsword floated from the wall towards him. "As usual, I find myself in a win-win scenario." He tested the blade's weight. "Make no mistake, son: I fully intend to kill you today. You've crossed me, and I cannot allow such heresy to go unpunished, but I would be ecstatic to see you rise to defeat me."
Brimstone cast a glance down at the carpet.
Sombra let out a hearty laugh. "Hahaha! You may cross the line now, son. I told you: bladed weapons only, on my honor."
Brimstone adjusted his wings into a defensive stance, protecting his left side. He thrust his right wing towards Sombra. "You have no honor!"
Sombra smirked. "Words hurt, son." He spun the blade in front of him. "Almost as much as this will. HYAH!"
The rain beat hard outside their cave. Brimstone cooked some wild vegetables over a fire while Rosewood labored over a chunk of Rockhoof Obsidian. She sliced a small layer off of her current blade, held it up to an empty slot on Brimstone's leather armor, and then sliced off a little more.
And next to them slept two of Celestia's guards.
Brimstone's wings drooped as he continued stirring. The sharpened stick he used scraped against the bottom of their scavenged pan.
Rosewood cleared her throat and spoke slowly. "So… have you always been able to do that?"
Brimstone took a shaky breath and mumbled. "It… just happens."
She looked between the sleeping guards and Brimstone. "Seems useful."
"It's not." He stirred the greens, barely moving his hoof. "It's a curse."
Rosewood shrugged and resumed her work. "Well, I'm grateful for it, whatever it is. We wouldn't have made it this far without it."
Brimstone's eyes furrowed. "We shouldn't have to rely on it."
With practiced hooves and a sharp stone, Rosewood traced a large chunk of obsidian, then brought her tool down onto it, cleaving off a perfectly sharp knife edge. "I don't see why not. You haven't lost control yet."
"Yet," Brimstone growled. He looked over to see Rosewood flinched, then sighed and recollected himself. "Excuse my outburst. It is just that…" He looked out into the rain. "I saw father wield these powers. I know what it can do to ponies, and sometimes, it is so easy to let it… take over."
"You know what it can do to ponies? Ha!" She filed at the sides of one of the blades, then snapped it into Brimstone's wing cutters.
Brimstone raised an eyebrow. "I have hurt many, many ponies before. Yes, I know–"
"And you weren't even trying to." Rosewood set down her work and stomped over. "Brimstone, I've worked under Sombra for decades. He absolutely raged in the weeks after you left, and most of the staff still has the scars to prove it."
Brimstone quickly looked her up and down. "Not all of them, it seems."
"Yes. He spared me." Rosewood's face softened. "Because you asked him to."
Brimstone paused, then stirred the vegetables again. "I am sure I do not know what you mean."
"Why do you think I sought you out?" Rosewood sat next to him. "Sombra's a monster, but he's always been fond of you. You asked him not to harm me, and so, he didn't. Not in those days, at least." She looked at the ground. "But he did terrible, terrible things to the other slaves. Brimstone, I know what we're up against, and if you can use the same power to help us, then by Luna, use it. It'd be irresponsible not to."
Brimstone removed the food from the fire. "Rosewood, I appreciate your insight, but there is nothing more to say." He glanced at the sleeping guards. "I will not misuse the power to hurt ponies, and that is all it seems good for."
Rosewood shrugged. "You saved us from the guards. Isn't that a good use for it?"
Brimstone glared at her. "No, because they are likely to be fired for failing."
Rosewood rolled her eyes. "But you didn't hurt them. Brimstone, you don't have to use the powers the way Sombra does. Are they dangerous? Sure, but they're a tool, just like everything else." She looked behind her and grabbed an obsidian knife. "Like this. I could plunge it into your stomach right now, but I'm not going to. I'm going to help you use it to free an entire kingdom. So is it really a bad tool?"
Brimstone paused, then glanced around. "I don't know how to free the empire."
Rosewood softened again. "Yes, you do."
"I cannot kill him."
Rosewood set the knife down slowly. "I hope you don't have to. I hope it doesn't come to that, but I know Sombra, and he might force you. And if he does, you'll need to know how to defend yourself." She nodded at his wings. "You already know how to use those. It's just a matter of learning to fight with them."
Brimstone glanced at his wing blades. They looked so much more menacing with Rockhoof's Obsidian on the ends. He nodded. "How could I even learn?"
Rosewood chuckled bitterly. "Well, you'll get plenty of practice in the Fields of Eternal Winter. They're only a few days away."
Sombra leapt with frightening speed, and Brimstone rushed forward to meet him. 'Disarm him,' he thought. 'We can talk it out. I don't need to kill him.'
They galloped closer and closer. Sombra floated the broadsword with his horn, and Brimstone ran with his wings hitched back, ready to parry. He considered flying, but he knew that leaving his underside vulnerable would be a poor tactical move.
They met, and Sombra swung the broadsword down over his head with a grunt. Brimstone parried with his left wing, and with a downward flap of his right, wheeled around to Sombra's side. He swiped at Sombra's sword, but it floated quickly out of range.
Sombra scoffed. "Disarmament? Really?" The sword swung in a wide arc at body level, and though Brimstone shielded himself, he was knocked off balance and had to recover a few meters away. "Come now, son. There's no armor under this cape. You know this, yet you still choose to be weak!" The sword launched towards Brimstone.
"I'm not weak!" Brimstone lashed his wing out and deflected the blade. "But it doesn't have to end like this. We can talk!"
"Ha! We are talking, son. Unless you're a bit distracted?" Sombra propelled the sword towards Brimstone again, but this time, Brimstone sliced the sword in half. It disappeared in a puff of black smoke. Sombra smiled. "Well, now. You do appear to have some skill. Where in Tartarus did you learn that?"
Gasping for breath against the constant blizzard, Brimstone wheeled around and lashed out with his wing. He could barely see the crystalline golem through the blinding snow, but he made out enough of the shape to get another clean cut. Like all the others, his wingtips sliced through the golem like it was nothing, and it roared in pain as crumbled into a pile of ice.
Brimstone quickly swiveled around. He could taste blood at the back of his throat, and his heart raced. Squinting the snow from his eyes, he shouted, "Rosewood! Where are you?"
"Here, I– Ah!"
Brimstone heard a loud thud and saw a faint shadow fly into a snow bank. He rushed towards it, but he had to duck at the last second to dodge a giant fist made of ice. He leapt up and brought his wing up from the ground, cutting the golem through the middle. "Are you okay?" he shouted over the storm.
Shaken, Rosewood stood and rushed to his side. "I'll be fine."
Creatures appeared through the snowfall, groaning and roaring, and Brimstone and Rosewood found themselves encircled.
For a moment, all the energy drained from Brimstone's body, until Rosewood shouted, "Any of that magic work on ice demons?"
Brimstone's joints locked up, and he heard a whispered thought at the back of his mind. 'A crystal barrier would buy us enough time to regroup.' He felt himself begin to agree, until the voice continued, '…and that energy could be channeled into the golems themselves. A whole army of mindless slaves.' Brimstone shuddered, and the power began to crawl up the back of his neck. He could feel himself slip away.
"Snap out of it!"
Brimstone shook his head and surveyed the golems closing in, then saw that they were evenly spaced around them in a ring. A memory of his high school flying squad flashed across his mind, and without thinking, he leapt into the air. "I've got this!"
Rosewood shrank. "What? Don't just leave me here! Brimstone!"
Brimstone dashed between two golems, barely dodging their attacks. With a hard flap of his wings, he gained some altitude, then spun around and picked out their movements: only nine remained, a ring of six and three at the periphery. Allowing his instinct to take over, he dived back down and weaved between them as fast as he could manage, and with each flap of his wings, he made small cuts in the golems. Left, right, left, right, he threaded himself like a needle through the ice creatures, each lap inflicting more damage.
The golems roared, and as they reeled back, Rosewood leapt on them to deliver the finishing blows with an obsidian knife.
After a flurry of battle, the ponies gasped for breath in the snow, huddling close for warmth. Before long, Rosewood shouted over the wind, "I think there's a small cave nearby." She began walking away. "We should go before we die of exposure."
Brimstone snarled. "Let me at least catch my–"
Rosewood spun around. "We wouldn't be so out of breath if you'd just used your powers!"
"This again?" Brimstone stood, his hackles raised. He cast a hoof in an angry, dismissive motion. "I will not use them. They could take over. It is my decision, and I say no."
She sneered. "You know, you're starting to sound a lot like Sombra."
"Well so are you! Just because I refuse to take the easy way–"
"The hard way nearly got us killed!"
"And the easy way might have seen you enslaved! Argh!" Brimstone threw his head back. When Rosewood didn't answer, he looked back at her. "What?"
Her brows were furrowed. "I'm already a slave. I always have been. This is my one shot to earn freedom for myself and my family and friends, and you want to throw it away because you don't feel like trying your hardest?" She snorted and kicked a pile of snow. "Why did I bring you here at all?"
"A fine question." Brimstone sat in the snow. "I am not a fighter. I don't want to kill my father. And I am only on the run because you brought the situation to the Princesses' attention. It would have all been better if you had just left me be!"
Without speaking, Rosewood stared, then picked up her daggers and stuck them back into her saddlebags. She turned and walked through the snow.
"Where are you going?" Brimstone called. The back of his mind told him to compel her to return, but instead he shouted, "We were not done!"
Barely over the sound of the storm, she said, "It sounds like we were." With a sigh, she walked on. "I'm going to go do what it takes. Come with me to the Empire, or die out here on your own. I don't care anymore."
Brimstone considered staying put, but as Rosewood began to fade into the storm, he growled at himself and followed.
"Stop being pathetic, son." Sombra sauntered towards Brimstone. "You're already letting yourself get distracted."
Brimstone perked up and wheeled around, slicing at the air and barely cutting a flying bola in half just before in entangled him. It had flown from the wall, and Brimstone could already see a flail rushing to Sombra's side. He whipped his head towards Sombra. "We agreed on bladed weapons!"
Sombra sneered, "And yet you still think the rules apply to me." He barked, "You weakling!" The flail spun around Sombra's head and came down towards Brimstone.
Brimstone threw up a wing out of instinct, and a moment later, he heard a loud crunch. He screamed in agony and, using his good wing, propelled himself sideways and out of the way of Sombra's follow-up.
Sombra roared, "Look at you! I use only the slightest sliver of my power, and you insist on handicapping yourself. And now you are without your primary advantage! Have you learned nothing?" The flail swung at him again.
Brimstone planted a foreleg and choked down his tears. He spun on one hoof, slicing through the spectral flail with his right wing's blades. The flail evaporated just as the sword and bola had.
"I have learned thaAAHH!" He felt a blunt pain strike his flank, and as he turned to see a spectral mace disappear, a quarterstaff knocked him on the side of the head, and he saw stars. More weapons flew at him – nun-chucks, batons, small warhammers, weapons Brimstone had never seen – and they pummeled him, leaving bruises across his chest, back, face, and hindquarters. Brimstone tried to deflect them, but soon, they overwhelmed him, and after another flurry of blows, he collapsed. He struggled to stand, but the last of his strength had left him. He could barely keep his eyes open through all the pain.
Sombra stepped slowly up to him, his armor clinking on the crystal floor. He loomed over Brimstone.
Brimstone heard a slight rattling, and he saw that Sombra's right front hoof was shaking. He looked up and met Sombra's gaze.
"You should be dead," Sombra whispered with a shaky voice. "I should have already killed you."
Brimstone tried to speak, but he couldn't.
Sombra shook his head and said with a quiver. "You really want to end this?"
Brimstone forced himself to speak. "You don't have to rule this way."
"But I do, my son. I do. There is no other way, and nopony will tell me otherwise. Not you, least of all." He swallowed hard. "Why did you never learn?" He stood closer, almost directly above Brimstone.
Brimstone weakly said, "I have learned. I have learned that–"
"No, you have not, or you would see how exposed my underside is to your right wing."
Brimstone gasped. "I will not kill you."
"A shame," Sombra said, blinking rapidly. He cast his head to the side, and his horn flared to life. "Then you will watch her die."
A cloud of dense smoke appeared near Sombra's throne. In moments, it cleared, revealing a cage, and Brimstone looked on in horror as he saw Rosewood inside.
With the towering wall of black crystal in front of them, Brimstone cleared his throat, and he spoke for the first time in days. "We have arrived."
Rosewood shot him a dirty look. "And if you still refuse to get us in the easy way…" After glaring at him for a silent moment, she continued, "…then I'll cut my own way in." She pulled an obsidian dagger from her pouch. "Once I open the way, I'm gone. You do what you need to, but if you get in my way, I won't hesitate to end you."
Brimstone asked, "What will you do?"
Rosewood began slicing her way through the crystal. "None of your concern." Within moments, a pony-sized hole appeared in the wall, and she began to crawl through. However, she hesitated for just a moment. She said, "Good luck, Prince Brimstone," and slipped through the hole, dashing away.
Brimstone's mouth hung open for just a moment, but then he climbed through the hole as it began to magically reseal itself. He squeezed through and saw a tail disappear behind a dilapidated building, leaving nothing but silence.
Brimstone's breath caught in his throat as he looked down at his hoof. For the first time in decades, he was standing in his home.
Gazing towards the center of the city, Brimstone gasped in awe. At the center of the Empire sat a giant castle made of dark, jagged crystal that stabbed into the sky. Cold power radiated from it, and it struck a ghastly contrast against all the poverty in the buildings that surrounded it. A few emaciated ponies galloped quickly through the streets, all trying to avoid the two guards that marched down the street. As they turned towards him, Brimstone ducked into an alleyway.
Brimstone felt the sweat bead on his coat. Looking quickly around, he saw an old dog house and jumped behind it with a single flap of his wings. He pressed against the side of it and tried to take in what he had seen.
He was dizzy. A small corner of his heart warmed at the thought of the castle being so close, but the rest of his heart iced over when he realized what had always been just beyond the castle walls. Had he ever even seen these slums as a colt? He couldn't remember, but now, he couldn't stop thinking about the ribs visible on the sides of those peasants. He shivered and sweat at once, and as the clang of metal hooves approached, Brimstone made himself small against the side of the dog house.
The metal hoofsteps passed a few agonizing seconds later, and Brimstone ducked into an alleyway between two rundown shells of buildings. Holding a hoof to his temple, he said softly, "Focus." His voice echoed slightly, and it sounded hollow.
Brimstone perked his ears up. He looked around. Izkael wasn't there to calm him down. Rosewood wasn't there to guide him. He shrunk and looked everywhere, but he was alone.
A powerful urge welled up in his stomach, a desire to run to the guards and ask them to take him home. He imagined himself back at the castle, taken care of by an endless stream of servants, with his father at his side to welcome him. His skin tingled, and a tired smile spread across his face.
But when Brimstone took another look at the alleyway, he fought back that urge. He ground his teeth, cursed himself for his lapse, and began walking towards the castle.
His travel was slow, but methodical, and he dashed between buildings only when he was sure nopony would see. Before each sprint, he assumed the launch position that he had used so many times with the Cloudsdale Blue Hawks, and his dashes were like a tightly-wound spring uncoiling all at once.
Each jump to the next building became harder as he neared the center of the empire. Not only did the heavy, cold feeling in his stomach intensify, but more and more ponies wandered the streets, all with the same hunched-over posture with their ears listening for the approach of guards. Deep into the city, Brimstone sneaked into a building he thought was abandoned, but as he turned around a corner, he saw a small colt staring at him with wide eyes and a slack jaw.
Brimstone's mane prickled. He held out a hoof. "Do not worry, little–"
"Ah!" The colt back away quickly, stumbling over his own hooves. His ears were flat against his head, and he shook.
Frowning, Brimstone set his hoof down. "I… will try to make this right. What is your name?"
The colt stared, unblinking, until he finally turned and ran as fast as he could into the street.
Brimstone sighed and continued his infiltration.
His legs and wings ached from tensing and releasing so many times, and his stomach rumbled. His mane was matted against his forehead, but he pressed onward, moving by what seemed like inches, all the way until dusk.
A mere three blocks away from the castle, Brimstone's blood ran cold as a booming, familiar voice filled the sky. "Today is a good day, slaves." Brimstone's knees nearly buckled at the sound of his father's voice. Warmth washed over him, but he was immediately reminded of the void in his heart from years of his lost relationship. "It seems my prodigal son has returned for a visit."
Brimstone froze in place. He heard the sound of metal hooves – scores of them – pounding against the road.
Sombra continued. "No need to worry, son. I see you there, behind the faded purple building." Brimstone looked at the building next to him and gulped. "My guards will escort you to me. Let's have… a father-son chat."
Within moments, Brimstone saw a legion of guards appear on either side of the alley. They looked lifeless, like suits of armor that only barely knew what a pony should move like, and they all stared through those green slits in their eyes.
Brimstone took a tentative step towards them. The guards didn't move, but he heard Sombra say, "That's it, son. No need to fret." His voice dripped with sarcasm. "I shall see you very soon."
Gathering his courage, Brimstone walked to the end of the alley, and he prepared to face his father for the first time in fourteen years.
Sombra scowled at him, and as he spoke, his form melted into smoky shadows. "I will not make the same mistake again." With a whoosh, he flew towards her in a cloud of darkness.
Brimstone tried to scream, but he coughed and tasted iron.
Rosewood backed against the bars of her cage. "Brimstone! Brimstone, please!"
Brimstone clenched his jaw and looked up, and time seemed to stand still. He saw his father's writhing form snake towards Rosewood through the air. The back of his mind burned. 'I can still intercept him. It's not too late.' He tried to visualize himself stopping Sombra. Somehow. 'But I cannot.'
Brimstone's jaw quivered. He had never felt so small, so powerless. He felt every bit the weakling that his father had always accused him of. Whispers grew louder at the back of his mind, but still he resisted. 'There is nothing I can do. The power will take me. Rosewood will–"
But then, he heard Rosewood's words, "Brimstone, you can control it! You can do this!"
His mind flashed with visions of Rosewood and what Sombra would do to her. He saw the same fate enveloping all of Equestria and to the lands beyond. His mind tossed and turned. He felt the wheel of fate turn around him, and when his fear told him one more time that it would take hold of him and twist him into the same monster as his father, a small, radiant sparkle flared to life in his heart. 'I will not let that happen.'
Brimstone roared through tears of pain and terror. "RRRAAARGH!"
A wall of dark crystal jutted from the floor and intercepted Sombra, who hissed in pain. Sombra turned, and his twisted form smiled. "I am truly surprised, son, if not impressed."
Brimstone felt a well of power within him. It was cold and deep, and it beckoned him with a siren's call. He knew it would be easy to fall into it, to embrace it, but he silently resolved to draw power from it without giving in.
Sombra's tongue flicked out of his mouth. "Yes, son. Surrender to it."
With a heaving breath, Brimstone pulled himself to his hooves. "I shall do no such thing." He felt his wounds close, and he saw the world with a green tint. "I shall not allow it to control me. This is my power, and I decide how to use it."
Sombra snarled and laughed. "Haha! There is the fire! I knew you had it inside you, son! But tell me, do you have the experience to wield it? Ha!" The cloud of Sombra's form rushed at Brimstone.
Brimstone tapped into the power within him, and he felt his body change, different from anything he had ever felt before. He swelled, and his body evaporated into a silver cloud of energy with red wisps inside it. His world flashed a brilliant green, and a wave of intoxicating power crashed into the back of his mind, so swift and mighty that he wanted nothing more than to drown himself in it. But he steeled his resolve, and the world came back into focus.
Sombra charged him, and he felt a surge of dark energy as the black and silver clouds met. Brimstone felt invaded, like every part of his ethereal body was on fire and crawling with insects, but he refocused his mind and rebuffed the intruder. "Out!"
With a flare of red light, Sombra's cloud was cast out, and Sombra reformed into a pony on the cold crystalline floor. He cackled, wild-eyed and unblinking. "Very good, son! But you are still sloppy. Allow me to hone your skills!"
Sombra's horn glowed. The weapons that lined the back wall transformed into sharp, needle-like crystals and flew towards Brimstone in a volley. With no lungs, he could not gasp, but soon, his instinct took over, and he viewed the approaching crystals like he would the obstacles in the steeplechase. His gaseous form ducked and weaved between them masterfully, and even without physical wings, Brimstone was able to dodge them all.
Except one.
"Gah!" Brimstone's cloud form collapsed on itself, and he reformed into a pony in midair. His right hind leg showed a large gash, and with a still-sore wing, Brimstone barely coasted to the ground without further hurting himself. He stood quickly, keeping his weight off his injured leg, and barked at Sombra, "But I-I was a cloud! They should pass right through–"
He was stopped cold by the deep frown on his father's face. Sombra shook his head slightly. "So much wasted potential. You could have been a great ruler, my son, if only you had let me lay the world at your hooves."
Brimstone shook on his legs. "I want no part of your world! And I shall not take part in this… senseless violence!"
Sombra nodded solemnly. "Then I will do what I must." He turned his head towards the crystal wall protecting Rosewood. With a flare of Sombra's horn, the wall shattered, and Rosewood gasped. As Sombra quickly transformed back into a cloud, his voice boomed, "I shall show you the price of inaction."
The moments ticked by in slow, powerful heartbeats as Sombra barreled towards Rosewood. The cloud covered Brimstone's vision, and he saw that this was his last moment to save Rosewood and, indeed, all of Equestria.
Brimstone's heart reacted faster than his mind. He embraced the red and the silver and the green of the world, not in submission, but as he would his wing blades. His feelings were swift, and they all centered on one thought: 'I will stop you.'
There was a loud crash from the floor, and in the blink of an eye, it was done.
Rosewood screamed, and as Brimstone refocused his eyes, he saw a dark crystal – the crystal he himself had just manifested – jutting from the ground and though chest of his father.
Rosewood looked up, quaking, and she stared at Sombra's motionless form. She whispered, "You… did it?"
Brimstone's wings drooped at his sides, and tears stung his eyes as all the power drained from him. "Father?" He wailed as he ran towards him, "Father!"
Weakly, Sombra turned his head towards his son and took a labored breath. His body was already dissipating into wisps of black smoke, and his smile was so, so wide.
"Father!" Brimstone rushed to his side and began feeling around, as if trying to catch the smoke in his hooves. "How do I fix this? I can fix–"
"I called you a disappointment," Sombra wheezed. His tail and hind legs were mostly gone, and the light faded rapidly from his eyes. "But look at you now." He sucked in a large breath, and his eyes unfocused. "I have never been so happy to be wrong."
Brimstone quivered, finally setting his hooves down.
Sombra coughed a small laugh. "You are no disappointment, son." His remaining body became nearly transparent, and with a last whisper, he dissipated completely. "You have made me proud."
Brimstone paused, alone, staring at nothing.
He weakly grabbed once more at the air, his hooves remaining empty, and for a long moment, there was silence. He sat like a forlorn statue at the edge of his crystal.
Rosewood started to say, "Brimstone, you–"
She was interrupted with a lightning-quick flap of Brimstone's wing, which sliced her cage door open. Rosewood stayed inside, observing the hunched-over prince.
A minute later, the large doors at the opposite side of the great hall opened. Two guards stumbled in, clutching their heads and with their helmets removed. "S… Sire?" One of the guards looked up. "Where is…"
Brimstone, eyes cast downward, mumbled, "We must alert the princesses. I… I need a messenger."
The other guard took a tentative step forward. "Excuse me, Your Highness, but I didn't quite–"
Brimstone's head whipped towards them, and his wings flared out as tears streamed down his cheeks. "Messenger! Now!"
The guards stood at attention and quickly left the room. Brimstone faced the sharp crystal that had slain his father, and again, there was silence as Brimstone felt the weight of the world on his shoulders.
The cage creaked as Rosewood stepped cautiously towards him. After hesitating twice, she finally set a hoof on Brimstone's shoulder. Brimstone relaxed at her touch, and she said, "Brimstone… You did what had to be–"
Brimstone spun around. He threw both forelegs around Rosewood and wrapped her in his wings, as a colt would his mother, and he wept.
Rosewood held him close, and there they stayed, for as long as he needed.
The bell chimed above the door to The Crystal Cavern.
His muscles still aching, Brimstone walked inside and flipped the sign to "closed." As much as he appreciated how many ponies had tried to commission him on his journey back, he felt he had earned himself a break.
Izkael looked up, smiled, and jumped over the counter. "Lad! Yer back!" He sped up to Brimstone, grabbed him by the shoulders, and brought him in for a tight hug. "Ya lived! Yer alive!" He held Brimstone at arms' length. "What happened? How'd ye do it? I heard ye turned down the crown, ye mad bastard!" He playfully punched Brimstone's shoulder. "Didn't think ye liked me company that much."
Brimstone chuckled, his voice heavy and rough. "Somepony needs to keep you from eating the merchandise, my friend."
Izkael's tail wagged behind him, and he grabbed onto Brimstone's face. "Tell me everything! Was it like ye remembered? What'll happen to the citizenry? Where's ol' Rose? Oh! I heard Princess Cadance is already movin' in wit her family. That true?"
Brimstone laughed and casually brushed Izkael's claws from his shoulders. "I will gladly tell you all about it, Izkael, but first, I need some rest."
"Ah! Yes, o' course. Here I am, gabbin' away. Ye go down and rest yer head, lad. I'll brew ye the finest stew I can manage. Away wit' ye! Sleep, sleep!" Izkael shooed him away, and with another chuckle, Brimstone lumbered to the stairway and down into his workshop.
Though his hooves throbbed and his wings ached, Brimstone took the stairs slowly. He relished the familiar creaking of each step, noting that each had its own pitch. He breathed a sigh of relief as he looked around at the familiar glow of his all works. It felt like it had been so long since he'd been here, but all the same, it felt like slipping into a well-worn set of clothing.
As he stood in the middle of the beautiful lights, his smile faltered. His workshop seemed… smaller than he'd remembered it, and every piece he looked at reminded him of the Crystal Empire, especially a black statuette of a stallion with red accents.
Brimstone's heart ached. Slowly, he approached the statue and picked it up with one hoof. He turned it several times, admiring the black sheen and the small flashes of red. A tear rolled down his cheek, and softly, he closed his eyes, kissed the statuette, and said a silent prayer. Carefully, he set the statuette down on his workbench, where he could see it easily, and he turned to get some rest.
Just before he flopped into his hammock, though, his eyes caught a sheet draped over a nearly-forgotten work of art.
He paused, one hoof resting on the hammock.
Setting his hoof down, Brimstone shook his head and rolled his eyes, and with a quick motion, pulled the sheet off. The statue underneath looked as gorgeous as he remembered, and his chest swelled with pride and excitement as he imagined getting back to work.
The unicorn still looked beautiful, and her forcefield was still a masterwork of crystal carving. Still, his head cocked to the side, and realized with fresh eyes that it was yet missing something. The unicorn was protecting herself, but from what? For a moment, Brimstone frowned.
But then, he thought of Rosewood. He thought of all he had overcome. He thought of his father and the love he still had for him, even if he accepted that Sombra had needed to be stopped.
Brimstone nodded to himself. "A tool, like all the others," he said quietly. He blinked away a tear and whispered, "I'll make you proud." He closed his eyes and drew on the power deep within himself. He felt no fear as he crafted with only his mind, and when he opened his eyes, he saw a perfectly round sphere of dark crystal riding a wave of darkness, now affixed to his masterpiece.
Brimstone saw the little unicorn, how she fought defiantly against the darkness, how even though she knew she would never be completely rid of it, she needn't fear it, for she had what she needed to keep the darkness at bay. He liked this little unicorn, and though it could certainly fetch a high price, he decided he would keep this one for himself.
With a smile, Brimstone returned to his hammock for a long, long rest.
