> Cast Shadows At Midnight > by BeezlubWrites > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Ch. 1: The Unfortunate Nature of Exposition > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Sombra was having a roughly decent day. Of course, he was under constant supervision as the former dictator of the Crystal Empire, with guards on watch even if he couldn’t see them, and most of the town despised or remained maddeningly cautious around him, but in some ways, he saw that as a benefit. Constant guard? Just like when he was royalty. Ponies don’t like him? He thrived on his own. It was a good day, and after finding a surprisingly sturdy tree, he managed to scramble up it, magic-free, and take the time to just breathe and relax. Unfortunately, his rest was interrupted by the feeling of a lingering gaze on him. He shook it off at first, thinking he’d just detected one of the hidden guards, until he realized where it was coming from. He opened his eyes, scowling, to see a smiling Shining Armor staring at him from the ground below.  “What?” He growled.  “Lunch. You know the rules.” Of course. The rules. When he’d been found that day, rooting through a bakery trash can for leftovers, his famed enemies, the rulers of the Crystal Empire, Shining Armor and Cadance had set up a set of rules to keep him on the road to recovery, and overall keep him from dying. Rule number 4: No skipping meals. He sighed, looking at the ground below, and feeling a sudden sinking feeling in his chest. He got up here without thinking about how he was going to get down. “You can’t get down, can you?” Damn the irritatingly perceptive prince. “...No.” Rule number 3: Pride is irrelevant, ask for help.  “Should I get a ladder, or will you be okay if I float you down?” Sombra hesitated, his general irritation ebbing away slightly as fear began to sink it’s ugly fangs into his mind. He could feel his body start going into high alert, and he desperately tried to shut it down before Shining Armor could notice, or heaven forbid, comment on it, but he was too late. Shining Armor frowned, ears folding as he trotted off to find a ladder, and Sombra desperately tried to force his fear down before either the prince came back, or he went into a full blown panic attack. Whichever came first, honestly.  His fear of having spells cast on him was a newfound one, discovered after a magical health scan sent him into full blown hysterics. He was, despite the humiliation of it, somewhat glad his horn didn’t seem to be working, primarily because he was nearly certain that even the feeling of casting a spell could send him spiraling down a road he didn’t want to be on. The mere hum of magic was enough to get his heart rate increasing at this point in his recovery, and he was more than ashamed to admit that if Shining Armor had levitated him down, he probably would’ve gone into hysterics again, and that wasn’t something he wanted to happen in front of the prince. A whistle pulled him from his thoughts as the creaking of a wooden ladder brought his attention to Shining Armor’s return, as he braced a ladder against the branch Sombra was laying on, making absolutely sure that it wouldn’t fall before giving him the go ahead to come down. Maybe it was his own paranoia, but he nudged the ladder a few times, making sure it was stable, before climbing down as steadily as he possibly could. “Alright, now that you’re no longer stuck in a tree, it’s time to go eat something.” He merely grumbled in response, but he didn’t fight back. It was possibly the most ridiculous way of thinking about it, but Shining Armor cared about people in a forceful way, and for some reason, Sombra was included in that people. You can’t not take care of yourself when Shining Armor was around to witness it, and Sombra had learned that the hard way. The one time Sombra had tried to fight rule four, he was slung over Shining Armor’s back like luggage and dragged to the dining room of the castle, all while Shining Armor smiled and hummed and greeted his fellow guard. Then, he was sat down and forced to stay in his seat until he finished the entire absurd portion of food he’d been given, leaving him so lethargic that by dinner time he had to force himself out of bed just so he wouldn’t have to experience the whole ordeal a second time. It was an experience that to this day practically haunted him, and he refused to undergo it a second time. The worst part was he had to eat with Shining Armor and Cadance. To say he despised them wasn’t accurate. Honestly hate was a strong word. He really only felt a lingering contempt that they had stolen his throne, but be it the effectiveness of whatever reformation training they were giving him, or just the effects of being blasted into smoke a few times, he wasn’t particularly keen on trying to take it back. What he hated about eating lunch with them is that they pried too much. His past was a mystery, both to the people of the Crystal Empire, and to their new rulers, and he would prefer to keep it that way. Which is what makes a daily lunch where they try and milk him of any information about his past that they can, very, very irritating. “So is it true that you’re a living shadow?” He nearly choked on his bread. “Where-hic- in the world did you hear that!?” He looked at Shining Armor audaciously, and the prince shrugged, looking semi-sheepish. “Hey, you won’t give us anything, so I went looking for rumors. I knew it was ridiculous, but I heard it from like five different ponies, so I grabbed onto it a little more than I should have.” Shining Armor continued pouring an obscene amount of hummus on his sandwich as if he hadn’t just unveiled Sombra’s best kept secret through a Celestia-damned rumor. “You have to admit, it does make sense considering how you’ve appeared to us half the time.” He looked up from his desecrated sandwich to find Sombra’s head planted firmly into the table. “I get it was a stupid question, but that seems excessive.” Sombra peeled his head off the table. “You have got to be kidding.” Sombra sighed, rubbing at his temples. “No, no. Actually, it makes perfect sense that you’d figure that out by accident.” Both Cadance and Shining Armor looked at him, astonished. “You’re kidding.”  “I wish.” Sombra growled. Cadance laughed, and Sombra glared at her. “I’m an umbrum. My body is composed of living shadow. We’re what you would call old news. Technically, we’re evil.” Cadance hummed. “Technically?” “We’re buried somewhere underneath here. The crystal heart destroys us, so my people want it gone. Some dark crystal gave me my powers out in the frozen north, and you know the rest. We aren’t exactly loving people, and my people want to conquer Equestria, though, from what I’ve seen, we’d fall to you two alone, let alone if Twilight and her friends get involved.” He grumbled, barely understanding why he was telling them this. It practically fell out of his mouth, he couldn’t stop it. He waited for their response, tracing the grain of his bread with his eyes. And after not receiving any, he waited for a little longer. And a little longer still. Until eventually, he looked up. “What?” The two were tearing up, with wide smiles so bright that practically forced his eyes closed. He held a hoof in front of his face. “Hello, vulnerable to light. Might disintegrate again if you keep this up.” “That might just be the first time you willingly told us something about you.” Cadance’s voice was strained, like she was genuinely holding back tears. “Back on topic, the Crystal Heart destroys you? That wasn’t just a shadow form thing?” He gave a dry smile. “Either I leave the empire next Crystal Festival or you’re gonna be sweeping me off the pavement.” His bit of dark humor had the intended effect, the both of them looking visibly stressed at the idea. “I’ll be fine in the Frozen North for one day. Probably. It’s far off, so I’ll figure something out.” “That’s our job, not yours.” Shining Armor said it astoundingly matter of fact, as if he hadn’t just figured out what Sombra was. “Thanks for telling us, we’ll try to help you however we can.” He limited his smile, keeping his mouth closed, and Sombra silently thanked him for it.  “For now, I just want a nap. Can I go to sleep?” The two released him from the lunch, (they said he could leave when he wanted, but he always felt like he had to ask permission) and he left for the temporary bedroom they’d established for him in the castle, likely not to be out of bed again until dinner. Of course, not being present, he didn’t watch as a smirk slowly crept onto Cadance’s face. “Don’t say it.” “So-” “Please don’t say it.” “Do you think an Umbrum-” “No.” “Is enough of a monster to consider you a teratophile?” In a bold, showstopping imitation of Sombra only minutes earlier, Shining Armor elegantly planted his face into the table. > Ch. 2: Memories of Rules Ten > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Sombra doesn’t dream. It’s impossible. He doesn’t know what makes the umbrum different from ponies, but the umbrum do not dream. He’d barely classify what he does as sleep to begin with, more like a trance of sorts, as he was not so blissfully unaware of the world around him as ponies were. No, it was more like the space around him was rigged with metaphysical tripwires, leaving him aware of anything in his general vicinity that moved. And when he managed to tune out the feeling of tripwires, he still didn’t dream. His memories cycled, played on the movie screen of his eyelids.  And still he didn’t dream.
He was in shackles.  He remembered this day. He could never distinguish if it was one of the worst days of his life or one of the best. His body was devastatingly thin, the shackles were barely small enough to prevent him from slipping out, and his ribs were visible through his fur, the terrible effect of his time floating through nonexistence and subsisting on food that lacked any practical nutrition value. He glared through his shaggy, overgrown, black  mane, his red eyes still holding all the malice and contempt of a man who’d lost everything. The subject of his glare stood on equal footing with him, not looking at him through bars or from thrones towering over him, as he would’ve had done to them. They did the opposite. They sat him down at a table like they were having drinks with an old friend, and neither reacted to his glare, faces neutral, though quirked eyebrows betrayed their interest in his current predicament. He couldn’t remember a single word they spoke that day, their mouths blurring in the projected memory, producing only a dull hum that filled in the blanks of what were meant to be words. Then, they presented him with a paper. Ten rules, and a contract. He was agreeing to his own reformation. He wasn’t presented with any information on what would happen if he didn’t agree, but he didn’t need to. Some of the trash cans he’d been scrounging through had wizened up and started throwing trash elsewhere, and the contract promised he’d be fed. Housed. Alive. He struggled to sign the contract without his magic, but with gritted teeth and determination, the name Sombra was scratched, barely legible onto that paper. One day later, he was washed, he was fed, and he was associating with Ponies again. The projection fizzled out, and one of his tripwires was set off.
His eyes shot open, and he watched as the door to his temporary room opened slowly, whatever pony sent to get him squinted to see into his darkened room, meeting his eyes through the darkness. “You should probably get up.” Cadance’s voice was hushed, as though she was trying not to jar him from his sleep too hastily. “Shining Armor has something he wants to show you, and he’s around fifteen minutes from coming up here himself. He sent me as the first warning.” Sombra sighed. “Alright. Tell him I’ll be down soon.” She nodded, sparing him one last glance before trotting out. Be it the memory he’d recounted in his sleep, or some other reason, he had half a mind to say thank you. He forced himself out of the bed, feeling slightly shaky on his legs as the familiar joint pain that came with standing anywhere in the general vicinity of the Crystal Heart set in. He flexed his legs, trying to limit how badly it could impact him in the long run. Not telling the royals about the pain was a technical violation of Rule 3, but what they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. ...Even though it might hurt him. The royal hall of the Crystal Palace was, admittedly, one of the nicer redecorations that had happened in his absence. The new throne was still purple, but rather than a dark, light absorbing purple, the central crystal was a cool lavender, surrounded by beautiful blues and indigos, with a long purple carpet leading into the throne. It was, admittedly, very pretty. Unfortunately, the light colors failed to absorb a comfortable amount of the Crystal Heart’s light, so precious little was done to alleviate the feeling of general instability ringing through his body, as though he could dissolve into shadows at the slightest touch. At the center of the room stood Shining Armor, bearing a calm professional air that suggested the quasi-business nature of their attempts to reform him. They wanted to be his friend, and they were also obligated by Celestia to do anything possible to prevent him from taking over the Crystal Empire again. Ironically, it hadn’t taken completing the first to complete the second. Still, he regarded Sombra kindly, as he always did, but Sombra saw a glint in his eyes. The mischievous kind. The kind that meant Shining Armor did the one thing he could do to Sombra as a prank. A gift. A gift that had something to do with Celestia. Undoubtedly, it was magical in nature, but what? If she’d figured out how to restore his magic, he’d probably do well to hold back on that. Could it have something to do with his aversion to the Crystal Heart? ...Maybe it would do him well to stop thinking about it and let Shining Armor tell him what’s actually going on. “You wanted to see me?” Shining Armor stepped out of the way to reveal a platter on a tray. The way they reveal things to royals. Or, the way royals have things revealed, depending on the situation.  “I asked Celestia to look through her archives for things about the Umbrum, and how to minimize any pain the Crystal Heart may cause you,” Sombra blinked, eyes widening slightly. Shining Armor smiled at him. “You don’t get to be Captain of the Royal Guard without being observant. You wince every time you get down from a chair, or your bed, or any place where you’re not on the ground and supporting your weight with your legs. Honestly, I doubt even you notice unless it’s particularly bad, which is when you start stretching your legs every few seconds or so when you’re standing still.” ...Like Sombra thought, irritatingly perceptive. “Anything else you know about me? Perhaps how long I brush my teeth or what songs I like to sing in the shower.” Sombra said through gritted teeth. Shining Armor’s smile was, maddeningly, completely unaffected. His voice was light and airy as he said: “Just because I know that you refuse to tell us when you’re in pain, a clear violation of rule 3, by the way, doesn’t mean I go out of my way to watch you 24/7. You sing in the shower?” Sombra scowled. “What’s on the damn tray?” “Language. And what’s on the tray is something to help you. Hopefully.”  He did Sombra the small favor of using the loop of the tray lid just so he wouldn’t be using magic, revealing something remarkably similar to Sombra’s old cape. Now, it wasn’t exactly the same, his had black spots dyed into the white fur and was slightly smaller, this one looked like it would nearly trail behind him if he walked, and the fur lining the edges was pure white, but the most noticeable difference was that his favored neck brace had been replaced with a clasped necklace, socketed with a small red gem. He felt a surge of interest, but as he got closer, he could practically feel the magic washing over him as he got closer to it. He scowled even deeper, and took a couple steps back. “I am not putting that on my body.” Shining Armor nodded.  “I expected that. I didn’t tell her why, but I did ask about a secondary solution. That should work until you manage to recover a little.” The question of whether or not he would recover entered his mind briefly, but he shoved it aside in favor of focusing on Shining Armor’s quote,  “secondary solution”. “She sent me the seeds of a plant designed for magical pain relief. Make it into a tea and it’ll block any magical pain.” “Well first things first, how long will these seeds take to grow. And second, how long does the tea last? I’d rather not be saddled with pain for most of the day only to have it go away for 30 minutes at breakfast, lunch, and dinner.” Shining Armor shrugged, and Sombra leveled him a glare.  “She said the plant should grow ‘extremely quickly’, so that shouldn't be an issue. But for how long it lasts, I really have no idea.” “Not exactly the most comforting idea, Shining Armor.” Sombra said, flatly. Shining Armor looked slightly downtrodden, and Sombra felt a twinge of empathy in his chest, which he attempted to stamp out. Unfortunately, it didn’t work, and it grew disgustingly quickly. After barely a second, he sighed. “Although… I do appreciate the effort. Still, is there nothing we can do in the meantime?” Shining Armor perked up slightly, something which made Sombra’s heart soar a little more than he’d like to admit. “Well, it might not help in the long term, but we do have a masseuse in the castle. Cadance goes there all the time.” Sombra raised an eyebrow. “Not your style?” Shining Armor shook his head.  “Well I mean, it could be. I usually don’t have time.” Sombra frowned. “You don’t have the time to enjoy a little relaxation? I refuse to believe that.” Shining Armor shrugged, already walking away. “You should find the masseuse pretty easily. I’ll get a guard to send your cape up to your room.”  Rule 10. Try to find ways to make yourself happy with others. Talk to ponies and do things with them. In general, don’t be a hermit. Initially he scoffed at the rule, assuming a logical progression of rule importance, the tenth rule probably should’ve been something along the lines of  ‘No scheming world domination’, or something of the sort. Eventually, he had the self awareness to realize that was an unspoken rule, and also to realize that he was meant to be reformed, not taken into custody. They wanted him to be happy. They wanted him to make friends. So, they made that the most important rule. Now, it was the primary reason behind him saying what he said next. “Well, you ought to make time, because we’re going together. No getting out of it. Consider this being me abiding by Rule 10.” Shining Armor literally froze in his step, whirling around in shock. Sombra raised an eyebrow at him. “What? It doesn’t have to be right now. Clear your schedule for sometime in the next few days and tell me when. We’ll make a ‘day of it’.” Shining Armor still looked quite like a fish out of water, and he said, dully, “Okay.”