In Memoriam

Chapters

Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three

Chapter One

Shining Armor tugged his scarf tighter around his neck. He adjusted the spear in its sling across his side; he’d been walking for an hour already, and it’d be sure to leave a sore if he left it there any longer. He rubbed his shoulder and exhaled into the crisp night air. Winter came even for the Crystal Empire, it seemed, though the Heart still protected them from the storms of the Frozen North beyond their borders.

He walked through the quiet streets, his hooves clop-clopping on the gemstone road. Here and there a lamp-post lit up the night with a solitary, flickering light. For the most part, though, the street was dark, the hour too late to keep even a single candle lit in one of the windows that lined the streets.

Shining grinned as the palace came back into view, the lamp-posts becoming more numerous as he approached the city’s center. The Crystal Pavillion was never dark, not even in darkest of wintry nights, and for that, Shining was grateful. The Heart itself exuded a constant cerulean glow, filling the pavilion with a gentle light that seemed to lift the soul and warm the body. It might be chilly, but at least he wouldn’t get frostbite.

He offered a salute to the two guards standing watch by the Heart, and they offered their own in return. Patrol duty was never really fun, but he enjoyed having the chance to see his soldiers outside of the usual discipline of the barracks.

Cadance hadn’t really been pleased when he’d informed her that he’d be on patrol checkup tonight, but she’d raised no objections. How could she? Any commander that wouldn’t sometimes get down in the trenches with his soldiers was no commander at all. In this once-foreign empire, Shining had been firm in emphasizing the need to prove himself to his new troops.

The great, vaulted ceiling towered above his head, each pillar holding it up immaculately fashioned, grown into place by ancient spells. The pedestal - a stalactite and stalagmite, each thrumming with a dim blue energy - was a darker contrast to the Heart’s own inner power, which glowed far more brightly, though it retained a softer, more welcoming light.

The night sky was bright with stars, each one perfectly visible from the icy wastes of the Frozen North. Shining looked up at the constellations and mouthed their names, as Twilight had once taught him. The Warrior; the Priestess; the Lover. He wondered whether Cadance was looking up at the same stars as he, from high above in the Crystal Palace...and chuckled half a second later when he realized he’d stolen that line from one of the romance novels that Cadance had taken to shoving at him as fast as he could read them. It seemed more likely anyway that she was asleep, blankets curled tight as she slept on in a cold, empty bed.

His hooves didn’t ache - his guard training saw to that - yet his heart did. He wished he could be with her, his hooves around her waist, his muzzle upon her shoulder...yet, sometimes, duty outweighed even love.

Yet he could allow himself to look upon her in his heart. He closed his eyes, remembering the warmth of her body against his, the feel of her breath against his face -

Something brushed against his cheek.

Shining’s eyes snapped open. He reached for his spear, but stopped halfway through the motion. No enemies greeted his sight, no disturbances or intruders. Yet there was something there, twinkling just on the inside of his vision. Shining blinked and refocused his eyes on the space over his snout, wrinkling his muzzle to get a better look.

A small, golden light hovered there, its glow reminiscent of a firefly. But no fireflies flew in the Crystal Empire, and none could have made it through the arctic tundra from Equestria. It was warm, too, Shining realized, like a tiny candle-light floating above his snout. He reached up a hoof to touch it, but stopped as he realized that there was another one floating mere inches away from the first.

Shining looked up and found the pavillion glowing like a Hearth’s Warming tree. Specks of gold filled the air like frozen rain as streaks of silver and crimson wove through the space above them. He felt his breath catch in his throat, his grip on the spear tightening as he watched the reflected light dance across the crystalline ceiling like so many tiny fireflies, the columns breaking the light into every shade of the rainbow.

A pink glow shimmered across the ceiling and Shining’s eyes widened. It came again but an instant later before fading and returning once more. Slowly, his eyes descended until he found the source of the light: the Crystal Heart, its depths throbbing with a dull, pink light.

He stepped forward, and then stepped forward again. The spear against his side slid and then slipped to clatter upon the floor as he approached the Heart. The pavillion was silent save for the sound of Shining’s hoofbeats and a steady thump-thump that came from the Heart with each flicker of light.

He stood mere inches away from the Heart, his breath misting in the air. It was strange: He felt warm, as though a blanket had been wrapped around his body, yet a thin sheet of frost had covered the base of the Heart’s pedestal. His muzzle was almost touching it now, the thump-thump of the Heart pounding with the blood in his ears as he leaned even closer.

Something clicked on the floor behind him, and he whirled.

A crystal mare stood at the other end of the pavillion. She wore a simple dress - silk, it seemed, with one length draping over her shoulder. A simple tiara sat upon her head, and her entire body was bathed in a glow whose shades and tones shifted like the Northern Lights. Her coat was perfect, unmarred by any spots or blemishes, and when he caught sight of her face, his own heart skipped a beat.

“Hello?” The bags under his eyes helped neither his appearance nor concentration, he suspected, but he did his best to stand a little straighter. Perhaps she’d come from a late-night costume party and was lost, or perhaps she wanted a look at her people’s most prized artifact. It was certainly a popular attraction during the day, though he couldn’t recall anypony coming to visit this late at night before. “Can I help you, miss?”

He blinked - and then she was standing directly in front of him. Her eyes gazed into his own, her tiara glimmering just out of his vision. He could feel her warm breath on his muzzle, yet he felt his body shivering as though a cold wind had just passed through the square.

“Miss, I -” A hoof touched his cheek, and he stopped mid-sentence. He shuddered as it slowly ran down his face. He felt like he was drowning in her amethyst eyes, pulled into her gaze by an inscrutable, unseeable force. Something flickered at the back of his mind, though, tugging him back. Why did he need to look into her eyes? Why couldn’t...he...look...away?

With a grunt, he managed to pull his vision downward - and froze. Her hooves weren’t touching the floor.

For an instant, he wondered why neither of the guards had reacted to the strange mare’s presence. It was only a split second later that he realized why.

Both of his soldiers lay sprawled on the ground, their spears and helmets fallen to their sides. His eyes widened, and without even thinking about it, he had his horn blazing a bright, searing blue -

“Hush,” he heard. “Fear not, my love.”

He tried to speak, but all that came out was a hoarse squeak. His horn sputtered and went out. A spark leapt to the floor and sizzled out, pathetically. He shivered again as she stroked his muzzle.

“Look into my eyes.”

He obeyed. A dull, pink glow shone behind her irises, beating in time with his heartbeat. Her chest was pressed against his now, one hoof brushing his mane behind an ear. He could feel frost gathering around his hooves and fetlocks, yet he’d never felt warmer or safer in his life.

“We’re going home, my love,” she whispered. “Will you come with me?”

All he could do was nod in response.

“Then take my hoof.”

He nodded again, his eyes glassy and unfocused. Idly, he noticed the shape of two wings curled up beneath her dress, and a horn poking out from beneath her tiara. Something about that seemed odd to him, but for the life of him, he couldn’t say why. Her hoof waited between them. He raised his own.

Wait. His eyes flickered to something on the ground, just beyond the mare before him. Its tip glittered with a metallic shine. It was important, he knew. But why?

He looked up into the mare’s face. Another mare’s features flashed across hers, barely for an instant. Who was that pink-maned mare? Was she important, too? He wrinkled his nose and tried to remember.

“Take my hoof,” the mare urged. “Please, my love.”

He looked helplessly into her eyes, searching for answers. The frost was at his knees, now, and he could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears. He could hear a mare’s voice calling his name.

And then he knew his answer. He took her hoof, smiled, and watched as the world turned to white all around him.

Cadance tightened her grasp on the form beside her. It was warm and soft, and she let out a sigh as she cuddled into it. “G’morning, honey,” she murmured, eyes still closed. “How’d you sleep?”

A moment without a response was nothing new. If anything, she was surprised that he wasn’t snoring louder. The poor thing had had to stand outside for half the night in the cold. Maybe he needed a few more minutes to sleep.

She nuzzled his side and smiled. “You want to be lazy today, honey?” After another moment with nary a groan, snore, or mumbled reply, she opened her eyes.

A pillow sat in her hooves, held tight against her chest. A thin line of drool had stained the fabric, running down from where her chin had sat to the mattress. The pillow was white enough, certainly, but it bore neither Cutie Mark nor mane.

Cadance didn’t have to check, but she did anyway. It only confirmed her suspicions: The bed was empty aside from her.

She blinked the sleep out of her eyes, groaning as she sat up in bed. The covers fell away from her wings, and a few rays of sunshine scattered across her face. Across the room, her wardrobe stood tall and proud, its crystal face glimmering beneath the autumn sun. Sparks of light leapt across the crystal floor and ceiling, making her room every inch the fairy tale it was meant to be.

But the rest of the room was empty. No Shining Armor stood at the foot of the bed, giving her that signature good-morning smirk of his. He wasn’t beside the bed, a piping-hot breakfast floating in the air beside him. He hadn’t even - she’d checked - rolled off of the side of the bed and onto the floor, as he was wont to do after the occasional night of arduous drinking with off-duty recruits.

Cadance frowned. Her hooves hit the floor with a light thud. The sound of each step echoed off of the walls as she moved to the bathroom.

Empty. A quick glance out on the balcony proved that the same was true there. Cadance’s forehead creased, the corners of her mouth tightening. She slipped on a bathrobe - the good one, nice and fuzzy, with the green lining - and stepped out into the hall.

“Good morning, Princess.” A crystal stallion, his mane streaked with blue and white, offered a rapt salute from his place beside her door. A few beams of sunlight illuminated the carpet and tapestries around him, shining forth from the tall, wide windows that flanked the walls of the Royal Corridor.

“Good morning to you, Lieutenant Quill.” She’d followed Shining’s example and made it a habit to learn the names of each guard set to patrolling the hall outside of their room. “Have you seen my husband?”

Quills considered that. “Last night, I think. I saw him at the barracks, just after dinner. He had some kind of patrol duty, didn’t he?”

“He did,” Cadance said, her brow creasing. “But not for the entire night.”

“Might’ve fallen asleep,” Quill said with a grin. “Goodness knows he would’ve been bored enough.”

Cadance gave him a wan smile in return. “I don’t think Shining Armor would fall asleep at his post.”

“When he had your bed to look forward to? I doubt it.”

“I’m flattered,” Cadance said. “Could he still be somewhere along his route?”

“Might be,” Quill said. “Maybe the next guy never showed.” If that was the case, they both knew that Shining would be having some choice words with the soldier who’d been scheduled after him. It wouldn’t be for keeping him out in the cold, personally, but Shining had a tendency to view duty as a soldier’s highest obligation.

Cadance took a deep breath and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she held herself a little straighter, her stance firmer and her expression focused. “Send a guard to check there,” she said. “And the barracks.”

“Think he might be chewing out a new recruit?” When Cadance nodded, Quill went on, “Better check the kitchens too, then. General Armor always manages to work up an appetite after a good holler.”

“Yes. Thank you,” Cadance said.

“Of course, Princess.” Quill bowed. “Can I ask a question, though?”

“You may.”

“Why all the fuss? General Armor’s a grown stallion; he can take care of himself. Why not let him return on his own?”

Why indeed. Cadance closed her eyes and took a breath. She wanted to agree with him - to admit that it was likely nothing to worry about. Shining Armor had had late nights before, and there’d been nights where he’d had to spend the night in the barracks.

Yet every other time, he’d sent a messenger to let her know, or told her in advance that he’d be missing. As her husband, Shining had always attended her out of love - as she did for him. Yet as her prince, he had done so out of duty as well. And for Prince-Consort and General Shining Armor, duty was no trivial matter.

“Call it a hunch,” she finally said.

Quill gave a nod that contained obvious understanding. After a shallow bow and a holler to the butler to find the Princess something warm to drink - Cadance hadn’t asked, but she more than appreciated the gesture - he gave a nod and went down the hall toward the stairs.

Cadance lingered in the hall for a moment more, clutching her bathrobe tightly around her. Soon enough, though, she returned to her room. The bed was still warm enough, though the frigid air she’d let in from the balcony had begun to chill the blankets. She curled up next to a pillow and waited.

The royal butler, an elderly stallion named Ruby Gem, came up a few minutes later with a steaming cup of hot cocoa and a tray of pastries. She nibbled on one as she waited for Quill to return, though she found, to little surprise, that she wasn’t very hungry. The cocoa did warm her body, though, and soon she found herself at something approaching an acceptable level of alertness.

Quill did not return for another thirty minutes. When he did, though, he carried some sobering news: Shining Armor was not in the Crystal Pavillion, nor the barracks, nor the kitchens. In fact, he was not in any part of the palace at all. Not a single pony in the area, soldier, servant, or visitor could recall seeing him since he’d left for his night shift the evening before.

Within another thirty minutes, search parties had been sent out into the rest of the city. For a time, Cadance still harbored some hope that he might be found - that he was merely visiting a friend, or perhaps patrolling the outskirts of the city. Desperate hopes, she knew, but she clung to them all the same.

Four hours later, the city had been swept clean, and Shining Armor was still missing. Even worse, a messenger had come up not long after the first search parties had gone out with worse news.

The guards posted at the Crystal Pavillion had been attacked. The Crystal Heart had gone dark.

“Corporal, report.”

“No sign of General Armor in any inn in the city, sir!” Cadance closed her eyes as the soldier, a younger mare with a bright blue coat, gave Quill a salute. Quill dismissed the soldier and turned to Cadance.

“That’s the last place in the city we thought we might find him,” he said. “I’m sorry, Princess, but it looks like your hunch was right.”

Cadance glanced around the room. A few of her more active advisors, plus several of Quill’s soldiers, had joined them, each standing at a given position around the table that took up much of the Royal Meeting Room. Quill himself stood at her right side, taking Shining Armor’s usual place. Two of his soldiers flanked him, waiting for their chance to speak. The morning sunlight streamed in through the windows, though a chill lurked in Cadance’s limbs all the same.

She moistened her lips before speaking. “It looks like it. Sergeants Cerulean and Ardent, what did you find in the Crystal Pavillion?”

Sergeant Ardent spoke up first, approaching the table after a nod from Quill. ”Our findings seemed to confirm that General Armor left - or was taken - in the middle of the night, while his shift was still underway. His spear was found abandoned in the area, and the two guards posted there confirmed seeing him. However, there were no signs of a struggle.”

“Nothing?” Cadance asked. “Did he disappear into thin air?”

“Might be, ma’am,” Ardent said. “It was as if he’d just vanished. The guards were knocked out by an unknown assailant and are unable to make any report on anything they might have seen.”

“And you, Sergeant Cerulean?” Cadance turned to look at the other mare. “Does the forensics team have anything to report?”

“Yes, your highness. Three things, in fact.”

Cadance let out a sigh of relief. Finally. Some good news at last. “Go on.”

“First: Remnants of frost were found around the base of the Crystal Heart pedestal.”

“That isn’t that strange,” Quill put in. “Winter is getting closer.”

“Yes, sir,” Cerulean agreed, “but that was the only place in the entire pavillion where frost was found, and the first frost of winter isn’t due for another month, at least.” When Quill nodded thoughtfully, Cerulean went on.

“The second discovery is a bit more optimistic.”

Cadance and Quill exchanged a look. “Optimistic?” Cadance asked, a lump in her throat. “Has Shining Armor been found? ”

“I’m afraid not,” Cerulean said. Cadance bowed her head. It’d been too much to hope for, but still... “Nothing about General Armor, at least. But the situation with the Heart is, fortunately, not as bad as we feared.”

She cleared her throat. “The border patrol has confirmed that the walls are holding, even in the absence of any obvious indication of the Heart’s power. No anomalies or weaknesses have been found.”

“Good,” Cadance said, letting her shoulders slump slightly. Her horn ached sympathetically in memory of the last time she’d had to hold the Empire’s barrier spell in place. “But how is this possible?”

“We don’t know,” Cerulean said. “Our best mages have already begun to study the Heart’s new condition, but their reports won’t be ready for another hour at least.”

“Are we sure that this is a new condition?” Cadance asked. “Had there been any reports of a darkened Crystal Heart before last night?”

“Not that we are aware of,” Cerulean said.

Cadance pursed her lips. “What else did you find? You mentioned a third piece of evidence?”

Cerulean reached back into her saddlebags and retrieved a small pouch, which she placed on the table. Cadance’s horn flickered as she slid the pouch over to her side of the table and opened it.

“We found two crystal shards near the Heart’s pedestal,” Cerulean said. “Neither matches in either composition or structure to the surrounding area.”

Cadance retrieved the first shard - a piece of bright, glimmering white - and inspected it beneath the light. When she’d first arrived at the Crystal Empire, one gem had looked much the same to her as any other. With time, though, she’d picked up a few things from the crystal ponies. She racked her brains to try and remember what the crystal making up the Pavillion looked like, and noted that the color, at least, was slightly off from what she recalled.

This piece was familiar to her, though - she’d seen its color, its structure somewhere before. But where?

Putting that thought off for later, she placed the shard down onto the table and withdrew the second one. A chill went through her hooves as she realized what she held, and she quickly placed it down on the table next to the other.

“A dark crystal,” she said.

“To the best of our knowledge, yes,” Sergeant Cerulean said. “We’re not completely sure, but it does seem to resemble those samples that were collected following his return.” There was no need to say which pony he was. His name hung over the room like a dark cloud, rumbling like thunder in each pony’s heart.

“A powerless Crystal Heart and a shard of dark crystal,” Cadance murmured.

“The culprit looks obvious,” Lieutenant Quill said.

“But Sombra was destroyed when the Crystal Heart was restored to its place beneath the palace!” Ardent said. “How could he possibly - “

He blushed a bright red as Quill fixed him with a steady look. “Sorry, sir. My apologies.”

“If Sombra has returned in any form, then we need to be ready,” Cadance said. Her horn flickered a bright blue. “We can’t let Shining Armor stay under his control.”

“If King Sombra has returned.” Quill coughed as Cadance turned toward him. “Forgive me for interrupting, Princess, but I don’t think we have all of the answers we need. Not just yet. And just mentioning Sombra’s name might end up causing a city-wide panic.”

Cadance exhaled. “You’re right. I shouldn’t jump to conclusions.” Not even if the evidence is lined up like apples in a barrel, she told herself silently. “We should wait for the mages to get back to us.”

“Yes, Princess,” Quill said. He turned to Ardent. “Sergeant! I want a squadron patrolling the castle and grounds, looking for any sign of General Armor. There might be something we’ve missed.”

“Sir, yes, sir!” Ardent saluted.

“Dismissed!” Quill turned to Cerulean as Ardent left the room. “Sergeant Cerulean: You’re going to stay with us until the mages bring their report. Your forensic skills might help us when we look at their analysis.”

“Yes, sir!” Cerulean saluted.

The next hour went by uneventfully. Ruby Gem brought up some refreshments as well as a lunch for Cadance, who hadn’t eaten since her “breakfast.” Cadance did her best to lead the room in smalltalk, though the idea of forgetting about Shining Armor for even a minute turned her stomach. She asked Quill about his wife and Cerulean about her training; both ponies were happy enough to respond, but an undercurrent of tension was evident beneath everypony’s voice.

Finally, there came a knock on the door. Cadance swallowed the lump in her throat and said, “Come in!”

The door swung open, admitting a crystal stallion in fetlock-high robes. His mane was a deep lavender, his coat an even brighter shade of blue than Cerulean’s. An ornate set of saddlebags was slung over his back, and he carried himself with his head held high and his lip curled slightly inwards. A pair of horn-rimmed glasses rested upon his snout.

“Your highness,” he said, bowing low to the ground. “I am honored to be in your presence.”

Cadance’s mouth twitched. “And I, yours,” she echoed. “Are you the representative of the Order of the Topaz?” The stallion nodded. “What is your name?”

“Zirconic, your highness.”

“Very well, then, Zirconic,” Cadance said. “Tell us what the Order has found.”

“Gladly.” Zirconic reached into his saddlebags and nosed through the contents for a moment before withdrawing a crystalline prism in his teeth, which he placed gently upon the table. With a tap of his hoof, a glow sprang up within the prism.

“The border patrol has already reported that the wall seems to be holding in a consistent place,” Zirconic began, “and by our calculations, this seems to be true.” As he spoke, the light in the prism flickered, and then flared. In the blink of an eye, a model of the Crystal Empire and the surrounding area was spread out across the table, centered on the tip of the prism. Quill waved a hoof through one side and raised an eyebrow when it went right through.

“Parlor tricks,” he muttered under his breath, though not quietly enough for anypony to miss it. Zirconic ignored him, and Cadance shot him a frown.

“We did find one notable anomaly, which would have been nearly invisible to the average pony’s eye,” Zirconic said.

“Oh?” Quill said, frowning. “And what did you find that my soldiers couldn’t?”

“This is what the shield normally looks like,” Zirconic said, waving a hoof over the diagram. A wide bubble, light blue in color, sprang into existence over the city. “And this,” he said, waving his other hoof, “is what it looks like now. See the difference?”

Quill snorted. “You haven’t changed anything. It looks exactly the same.”

But Cadance was nodding. An alicorn’s eyes tended to be a bit more accurate than another pony’s, and it seemed that her gift would help her here. “It’s shifted downward.”

“Exactly,” Zirconic said. “By nine hundred feet, almost exactly.” Zirconic adjusted his glasses. “When considering an area as large as the Empire, nine hundred feet is negligible. However, in this case, it’s an important clue, as the barrier has never been known to fluctuate anywhere near that amount.”

“So what are you saying?” Quill asked. He leaned over the table, inspecting the model. The frown had largely receded from his face, though he still eyed Zirconic with a steady, mistrusting gaze.

Zirconic licked his lips and waved a hoof over the prism. The projection of the Crystal Empire disappeared. “Whatever it is about the Crystal Heart that’s generating the barrier, it’s moved. The power that protects our land no longer resides within the Heart, but nine hundred feet below.”

“And what might that power be?” Cadance asked. Zirconic shrugged and then tilted his head to the side, giving Cadance an odd look.

“Excuse me,” he said, gesturing toward the pair of crystals set before Cadance, “but is that a dark crystal? Where was it found?”

“By the Heart,” Cerulean put in, “in the Crystal Pavillion.”

“May I see it?”

Cadance nodded and levitated the crystal over. Zirconic took it in one hoof and raised it to the light.

“We’ve seen one of these before,” he said, turning it over in his hoof.

“Of course you have,” Quill said. “The entire Empire was littered with them after Sombra’s attack.”

Zirconic shook his head. “It appears similar to the others, but this piece is of a darker, deeper magic.” He set it back down on the table and met Cadance’s eyes. “This is a shard of the Door of Fears.”

In that instant, Cadance knew where she’d seen the other shard before. “The throne room,” she said, eyes narrowed. “That’s where I’ve seen that first shard before. It’s a piece of the throne.”

“So that means…” Cerulean’s voice trailed off uncertainly.

Cadance nodded. “My husband is a prisoner within Sombra’s castle.”

Shining Armor groaned as he awoke, his body stirring slowly to life. His limbs felt...strange. Awkward. How long had he slept?

His eyes flickered open.

A grand hall spread out before him. Pillars of crystalline glass towered up toward the vaulted ceiling, each column shining with an inner rainbow. Stained-glass windows filled the walls, depicting scenes of love and beauty, each one more magnificent and gloried than the last. The hall was filled with an enormous crowd of ponies. Stallions and mares alike glimmered like diamonds, their gemlike coats as bright as the stars.

Shining rubbed his eyes - and paused, finding an odd metal plate covering the end of his hoof. He held it up before looking down and staring, wide-eyed, at the great red cape that covered the floor around him, and at the harsh steel barding that covered his chest and neck.

He raised his other hoof and stared, glassy-eyed, at the charcoal-black leg that followed it, a scepter held tight in its grasp. There was a weight on his head, too, and he glanced up to see a circlet of black iron that rested upon his horn, bearing a simple crest of red and black.

There was a throne beneath him. It was a smaller thing, wrought and pounded from sturdier, rather than precious, metals, and very obviously out of place with the rest of the crystal-built hall. He glanced to the side, eyes widening as he took in a second, much larger throne that sat in the center of the hall, raised on a dais for each and every pony to see.

The second throne was enormous, towering far above his own. Great spears of diamond and sapphire jutted out from the sides, their depths glittering with beauty and danger. Atop the throne stood a cascade of gems not dissimilar from a peacock’s tail, with a single ruby of incredible size standing above the rest. It was toward this throne, this incredible piece of art, that everypony’s attention was directed.

Or perhaps it wasn’t the throne, for it held a single occupant. Though dwarfed in size by her seat, another pony sat proud and tall at the head of the hall. Her mane was a shining pink, her coat a shade of deep lavender. Her fur shone more brilliantly than any other’s, and a tall crown fashioned of opals and diamonds and emeralds rested upon her brow. A pair of wings lay folded upon her back, and a long, painted horn stretched into the air above her forehead, a single garnet decorating its tip.

As Shining watched her, his jaw slowly lowering, the mare turned to him and smiled. Her eyelashes fluttered, revealing in the space beneath a pair of bright purple eyes. They were beautiful, pools of amethyst color that he could lose himself in.

“Good morn, my King,” said his Queen. “And welcome back, my love.”

Chapter Two

Shining Armor stared at the mare before him. In that moment, the hall around him ceased to exist.

Wings, he noticed again. A horn, too. She was an alicorn. Was that important? He racked his brain to try and remember if it was, but instead of an appropriate memory, the image of a strange mare’s face rippled across his mind’s eye. She had wings, too. And a horn - but who was she?

He doubled over, clutching his head as a wave of pain pierced through his skull. When he opened his eyes again, ponies in the crowd were murmuring amongst themselves and staring at him oddly. The mare at his side was giving him a look of some concern.

And then he remembered her name.

Crystal Heart. Queen of the Crystal Empire.

His lover.

“No,” he whispered. There was somepony else; this couldn’t be right. That face flickered across his thoughts again and he let out a whimper as pain stabbed through his skull again.

“My love,” he heard from beside him. It was her voice. “Are you unwell?”

“I’m fine,” he said through gritted teeth. He took a deep breath and sat up straighter in his chair. His throne. The great hall returned around him, the din of talking ponies starting up once more.

He caught sight of his hoof again - charcoal grey, not white. But why would it be white? “Just a headache.”

“An ill humor,” the Queen said, nodding. “You work yourself too hard, my love.”

He offered her a wan smile. “Of course. I’ll...try to lay off a bit.”

Her laughter rang through the hall like chimes of glass. “‘Lay off?’ What a marvelous turn of phrase. Your Equestrian dialect never ceases to entertain, Sombra.”

Sombra. Was that his name? Then who was Shining Armor? The image of the other mare flickered through his mind a third time, but this time it was barely more than a mist. This stab of pain brought less than a wince.

He gave her a nod, smiling uncertainly. “I’m...happy to hear it.”

“Your majesty!” A stocky crystal stallion, a wide-brimmed hat upon his head, bowed from his place by the hall door. “The next petitioner would address you.”

“Let him approach,” Crystal Heart said. The stallion nodded and gestured to a pony behind him - a unicorn, it seemed. The mark on his flank was obscured by a rich, silken robe that trailed behind him as he walked. He proceeded down the aisle with his muzzle held high, each hoofstep padding along the bright-red carpet at an even pace.

As the unicorn approached, Shini… Sombra took the opportunity to observe the crowd. The vast majority of the crowd was made up of crystal ponies, their coats sparkling in the light of the throne room. Some ponies - pegasi and unicorns, mostly - added their numbers to the crowd, but they were huddled together in their own separate groups. There wasn’t an earth pony to be found.

Most of the ponies had eyes only for Crystal Heart, their eyes never leaving their Queen’s figure. Some watched the unicorn proceeding up the aisle toward the throne - an ambassador, perhaps? - but a surprising amount had their eyes on Shining himself.

Some seemed curious, probably due to the scene he’d just made. Others seemed sympathetic. Yet more faces than he had been prepared to see offered only scowls, narrowed eyes, or gritted teeth. They didn’t trust him. Why?

The unicorn had finally reached the stage beneath the throne. He bowed low to the ground, his horn nearly touching the red carpet before he lifted his head up again. “Great Queen,” he began, “I bring you tidings of friendship from Princesses Luna and Celestia of Equestria.”

“We are pleased to hear it,” Crystal Heart said. “Approach, friend, and deliver your sovereigns’ words.”

The unicorn stood up straighter and adjusted the robe hanging around his shoulders. “Queen Crystal Heart,” he said, bowing again in her direction. “Former Archmage Sombra.” A curt nod in Shining Armor’s direction.

Or not Shining Armor. His name was Sombra, it seemed. Who had Shining Armor been, then? A memory? A falsehood?

The unicorn did not like him; that much was obvious. There’d been a cold look in those eyes when their gazes met. And former Archmage - what did that mean? He didn’t remember much, but he did know that Archmage was a title given out only to the most advanced of unicorns. As far as he knew, too, the title couldn’t be revoked. Yet apparently, somehow, his had been.

He settled back in his chair and pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind. The ambassador was speaking again.

“In thanks for opening trade between our two great nations, our Princesses would like to present you with a gift,” he said, his eyes once again for Crystal Heart alone. His horn flickered a deep blue and a neatly-wrapped package floated up at his side. The Queen’s horn lit as well, her own bright pink aura taking over and levitating the package toward her.

“It is of our finest make,” the ambassador said as the Queen’s magic carefully opened the package. “Our royal artisans labored for weeks to create it. It is our greatest hope that you take it as a token of the love our Princesses bear for you and yours.”

Crystal Heart lifted the item from the now-opened box and held it to the light. The crowd gaped and stomped their hooves on the ground appreciatively as a beam of sunlight struck it, sending swirls of colored light all throughout the chamber.

It was a sword - a rapier, to be precise - forged from what seemed to be pure silver. Its handle was set with rubies and emeralds, with sapphires forming the shape of a heart on the hilt. Its tip came to a perfect, wicked point, and the blade glinted as Crystal Heart shifted its position in the air.

“A marvelous gift,” the Queen said. The ambassador smiled. “It is a pity, though, that we have no need of such a sword.”

The smile left the ambassador’s face in the blink of an eye, but he was at least trained enough to keep it from falling into a scowl. “Your majesty?”

“Sombra, my love,” Crystal Heart said, gazing at the sword with half-lidded eyes. “Would you like a present?”

Shini - Sombra hesitated, then nodded. “You honor me, my Queen.” He took the sword in the grasp of his own magic. It glowed a deep, black-flecked red - Red? Why not blue? - as he considered it, turning it over and inspecting its make.

“Your Princesses’ gesture is more than appreciated,” Crystal Heart said, turning back to the sputtering ambassador. “But the Empire needs but one sword to defend it.” Her horn glimmered and then there was a bright, impossible light filling the room. Sombra shied back from the sudden light and waited for his eyes to adjust before looking again.

A sword hovered above Crystal Heart’s head, its tip pointed straight toward the heavens. Its blade was wrought of diamond, its handle of the finest sapphire. The crest of a heart, light blue and matching the design on Crystal Heart’s crown, sat upon the hilt, carved more perfectly than any gem Sombra had seen before. Rainbows scattered from the blade and filled the air, spurring gasps and sighs from the crowd.

“Soulgem,” said Crystal Heart. “The ancient blade of my House. The sword and shield of the Empire.”

All eyes were on her - and on the sword as well. The heart-shaped sapphire glowed with a powerful, inner light, a flame dancing within its depths as swirls of gold and silver leapt from the tip.

“Your majesty,” the ambassador began, “my Princesses did not mean to offer offense - “

“Nor did you,” the Queen said. She sounded almost amused. “Your gift is duly appreciated. I am sure that Archmage Sombra will wear it well.” The ambassador flinched at the use of Sombra’s title, but offered no rebuke. “I am pleased to accept your token of friendship. Perhaps it is only appropriate that a unicorn-of-crystal bears it in my place, as a symbol of the friendship between our two peoples.”

A murmur went up from the crowd at the words she’d used for Sombra, but Queen Crystal Heart evidently paid them no mind. Sombra did not either: He had eyes only for the sword above Crystal Heart’s head, the power within its blade all but pounding against his ears. A deep hunger welled up inside him as he beheld it in all its glory.

Yet Soulgem vanished in the blink of an eye as Crystal Heart’s magic released it, leaving the chamber feeling darker, uglier, and impossibly more mundane in its absence. Sombra blinked and shook his head, feeling the sensation of hunger disappear as quickly as it had come.

“Come, then!” the Queen announced, clapping her hooves together. “Let us celebrate the presence of our honored guests and the friendship between our nations. Let us feast in their honor!”

A cheer went up from the crowd - but it sounded off, as though it had come from deep underwater and was merely an echo, or perhaps the echo of an echo. Sombra blinked as the voices merged together, figures blurring until he could not tell one pony from another.

He blinked once more, and the hall dissolved into white.

Cadance eyed the Crystal Throne as the rest of her guards crowded into the chamber. She’d seen Celestia’s chair back in Canterlot, and while that had been no less regal, it had been...different. That was a seat - a royal one, perhaps, but a dressing of power. Gold, like the sun - Celestia’s sun. Perhaps that was why Cadance had never felt the chair itself to be anything special. It was a pretty enough object, to be sure, but it held no real power. Celestia was the power behind Equestria, Cadance reflected wryly. Funny how a horn and a few years of calling her “Auntie” had let that fact fade in her mind.

As she stood here, though, at the seat of the Crystal Empire’s power and history, there was no doubting that the Crystal Throne was the true source of power here. She’d heard stories, of course - supposedly the former Royal Family had been alicorns, just like herself and Celestia (and Luna, she added after a moment, admonishing herself for forgetting). But none of their names had survived to the modern day. She had to ask herself whether that was due to Sombra’s destruction of the Royal Family or due to their own inconsequence in light of the true source of their power.

For the Crystal Throne had survived; there was no doubting that. Over millennia, through war and famine and corruption, it had grown hard like diamond, its strength and power deeper and greater than any monarch who might have wielded it. The Throne had never spoken to her, but Cadance had felt that great, ancient weight each time she dared sit that chair.

Her own choice of words forced her lips into a tight smirk: ‘Dared,’ as if she were a mere upstart, unworthy of the Throne. At least one thing was certain: With its towering pillars of crystal; its firm, unwielding back and sides; and its dangerous yet beautiful spikes beckoning her at every side, the Crystal Throne was no comfortable seat.

“Princess? We’re ready.”

Cadance turned to Lieutenant Quill and nodded. “Have everypony stand back. Zirconic?”

The mage stepped forward. “Yes, your majesty?”

“Stand behind me. I want you to watch the crystals and tell me if you notice anything out of the ordinary.”

“Yes, your majesty.”

“Is everypony ready?” she asked over her shoulder. After receiving a chorus of “Yes” from her escorts, she lowered her head, steeled herself, and summoned up her magic.

It was funny how it seemed that she was the only one in the Crystal Empire - well, currently, anyway - with the power to open the way to Sombra’s hidden castle. The “bridge” of dark magic that Sombra had created between the Crystal Palace and his own, twisted dimension was nothing if not thorough in concealing his tracks.

She was stalling, she realized, with light-blue magic still flickering around her horn. Her entire forehead was buzzing with energy and light, but not even a drop of power had been converted to the dark energy that Sombra had manipulated to first create the bridge.

Was she scared? No, she decided - not scared. There was nothing to fear, especially from her own magic. Then what was she feeling?

Disgust, she realized. She’d touched the source of Sombra’s power only once before, when the Order of the Topaz had requested she open the way to the Door of Fear in order to let them study its composition and, if possible, what lay beyond. The only other thing they’d found was the tower the Heart had been stored in for the centuries that it had lain hidden, and when they’d found it empty, she’d insisted they return as quickly as possible.

Twilight had been there, then, but had insisted on teaching Cadance how to access that...energy in case she’d ever needed to use it again. A lump rose in Cadance’s throat. The memory of that slick, oily magic oozing from her font; the sensation of falling further and further with each passing second; the unignorable feeling of corruption and decay… Was that what was stopping her? Was that the only thing standing between her and her Shining Armor?

She grit her teeth and glared at the Throne. It couldn’t be. She wouldn’t let herself be so soft - so weak - as to let Shining Armor stay in the clutches of whatever monster had taken him captive. She was no simpering little Princess, to cower and whine while others did her work for her. She was better than that.

Somehow, as the first spark of darkness sputtered from her horn, she thought she felt something from the Crystal Throne, as impossible as it seemed: a flicker of approval.

She raised her head defiantly, fixed the Throne with narrowed eyes, and let out a snarl as dark, crackling energy burst from her horn and smashed into the crystals above the Door of Fear.

The transformation was like turning day into night. A dark, simmering corruption spread across the surface of each gem before jumping to the next. It was a wave that boiled over the Throne, spreading like an infection with each passing second until each crystal was covered in an oily, opaque grey.

The instant that the final stretch of crystal was covered in Sombra’s magic, a light sprang up at the top of the Throne - no ordinary light, but one of darkness, one that seemed to draw in light, absorbing rather than radiating it. It spread across the floor of the room like the light of dawn, but whatever surface it touched transformed from a bright, sparkling crystal into dark, grey stone instead. Cadance nodded to herself as the staircase down was revealed, its winding steps leading down into what seemed like a neverending darkness.

She turned around and grimaced at the looks on everypony else’s face. To their credit, Zirconic appeared interested and Cerulean merely apathetic, but most of the other ponies had made no effort to conceal the disgust that she’d so clearly felt. It took her a moment to realize that it wasn’t directed at her - not entirely, at least.

However long Sombra had ruled, there was still some memory of the Throne’s power in the Empire, she knew. To see its energies perverted like this, especially in a way that lingered in living memory even now, must have been a grave offense to any pony of crystal heritage.

She met Quill’s gaze. She was relieved, at least somewhat, to see him nod in return. He knew why this was necessary, at least. Her other guards might follow her as their Princess - though somewhere in her heart, she knew they wished for a Queen - but Quill knew how she hated using Sombra’s power. He’d been there when Twilight had introduced it to her; he’d comforted her, along with Shining Armor, when she’d nearly thrown up after first channeling its strength.

She turned back to the Throne. Each member of her escort still stood well clear of the yawning mouth of the staircase, save for Zirconic, who was busy inspecting the darkened crystals before it. “Have you found anything unexpected?” she asked.

Zirconic shook his head and pulled his cloak tighter around his shoulders. “No, your majesty,” he replied. He laid a hoof on the blackened crystal atop the throne and shivered, though from fear or excitement Cadance could not possibly say. “The bridge seems to have formed successfully.”

“Good.” Cadance moved to the top stair and nodded her head toward her guard. “Quill, Cerulean. You’re with me. Everypony else, follow up behind.”

“Princess,” Quill said. “You can’t possibly go. You need to stay here, where - “

“ - where it’s safe?” Cadance cut in. She fixed him with an even look. “Lieutenant Quill, I have no intention of allowing others to rescue my husband while I stand on the sidelines. I will save him, and I will allow neither considerations for my own safety nor the objections of my councilors to stand in my way. Is that understood?”

Quill - as well as most of the guardsponies flanking him - nodded mutely.

“And besides,” Cadance said, a small grin on her face, “I’m the only one with the magic to get us through the Door of Fears. Seeing as a unicorn designed most of the palace anyway, it looks like you’re better off stuck with me anyway.

“Now,” she said, smiling widely, “who wants to go down first?”

“Tell me, when will you finally say yes?”

Sombra looked up from the book he’d been reading. Crystal Heart lay on the edge of her massive four-poster bed, her hooves folded beneath her chest. She’d removed her crown, dropping it haphazardly on the stand beside her bed. Her mane had been left free to fall over her forehead and shoulders, her bright, pink hair framing her face.

“Yes to what?” Sombra asked. He glanced back down at the book in his hooves. For some reason, he couldn’t remember what he’d been reading only a moment before. To make matters worse, the words on the page blurred together, making even the most cursory of glances at the thing useless. He blinked a few times, but the book remained stubbornly illegible.

Crystal Heart laughed. Sombra knew instantly that he’d always loved her laugh: that rich, chiming mirth that seemed to fill an entire room. “To marriage, of course.”

Of course. He chided himself. Hadn’t she been asking about little else for the past weeks? He stared at the book for a few more useless moments before slamming the covers shut and tossing it to the ground. “My answer has not changed, my sweet.”

“But why?” Crystal Heart pouted, flopping back on her bed. A quartet of fat, pink pillows caught her fall. “You love me, and I love you. Why not get married now?”

He stood up and sighed. Crystal Heart raised an eyebrow, then giggled as he made his way over to the bed.

He took her in hoof as he climbed onto the bed, a leg around her neck, another over her back, both holding her close. His chin rested on her shoulder, and he could barely restrain the smirk that emerged as she giggled again, squirming under his weight.

“So?” she asked hopefully. “Why not?”

“My work,” he said first. “It is a dangerous field that I dabble in, and were anything to happen to me, that could bode ill for the kingdom.”

“Bah,” she said. She turned to face him and poked his snout. “You’re Archmage Sombra, the greatest wizard in a thousand years.”

“Former Archmage,” he corrected her, “as our Equestrian friends so happily reminded us the last time they visited. And no matter my skill or power, even I am far from immortal or invulnerable.”

“But you would not work with things that you could not control.”

“The Equestrian Council of Magic evidently thought otherwise,” he said mildly. “That is not my only reason, of course.”

“Oh?” she asked. She snuggled closer into his chest. “What other meaningless reason have you found to drudge up for me?”

“Your parents - “

“ - can do nothing. Mother abdicated the throne. I am Queen, remember? If I choose to marry you, she is powerless to object.”

“Yet she could make life difficult for us,” Sombra said. “As could your father and his ministers.”

“The Council is mine,” Crystal Heart said, inspecting a hoof. “They are honor-bound to obey the Queen.”

“Of course, your majesty. I did not mean to imply anything less.”

She frowned at him. “There you go again. You always become twice as formal when you do not wish to talk.”

“I am always willing to speak with my Queen,” he said. “My mind, body, and soul are at her disposal.”

“So you say. Yet you will not marry me.”

“Alas,” Sombra said, offering a humorless smile. “That is the last piece of autonomy that I choose to retain. Otherwise, I am your humble servant.”

“Then prove your fealty to me,” Crystal Heart said. She met his eyes with her own.

“How shall I?” he asked.

In a flash, Sombra found himself pinned to the bed, his back to the sheets. Crystal Heart leaned over him with her weight on his chest. A predatory gleam shone in her eyes.

“By not saying no.” Her hooves curled around his ears and then her mouth was almost upon his, her lips slightly open.

He closed his eyes, and once more the world dissolved beneath his hooves.

The staircase to Sombra’s castle had been found to go down the length of a hoofball field, but to Cadance, the distance seemed to pass in the blink of an eye. Each hoofstep came as mechanically as the last. None of her guards even attempted to make conversation, neither with each other or with her. For that much, she was grateful. The further they descended from the throne room, the darker the fears in her heart grew. As she neared the bottom, she bit her lip and forced herself to gather her thoughts.

In Twilight Sparkle, Cadance had found something of a kindred spirit: another pony for whom life was a blur of lights and colors waiting to be broken down and analyzed. Her mouth curled into an unwilling smile as she recalled the hundreds of “charts” they’d made when trying to understand her attraction to Shining Armor.

It was one of those conversations in particular that she struggled to remember now as her throat constricted and her heart threatened to jump out of her chest. The scene: Cadance, desperate to pass her final exams and unable to believe that she could; Twilight, slightly bemused, but willing enough to help.

It’s kind of hard to deal with taking lots of tests, Twilight had said. Cadance had more than agreed. Kind of scary, too, Twilight had went on. Cadance had nodded.

But I’ve found ways to deal with it, Twilight had said. When asked to explain, Twilight had held up a hoof and entered what a gushing Cadance had only been able to call lecture mode. She’d told Cadance three things.

Check your facts and analyze the situation. Are you where you need to be? If not, how can you get there?

Find out what the problem is. Reduce it to a basic set of assumptions, and work from there to create a list of smaller challenges to overcome.

Remove any extraneous variables - especially those beyond your control - and create an environment in which you have full autonomy. Use that to develop the tools to confront the problem at hand.

Cadance went down the list. First, she needed to analyze the situation she was in. Shining Armor had been taken captive by an unknown assailant. She’d done her best to follow those clues left at the scene of the crime and in doing so had descended into Sombra’s old castle to save him. Given the size and relative isolation of the Crystal Empire, there were few other places where Shining Armor could have been taken; thus, their decision to enter here had been a reasonable one.

Second step. Though the guards he had been with had been knocked out, there’d been no signs of a struggle; thus, it made sense to assume that whoever his attacker had been, they’d wanted him whole and unharmed. Therefore, the problem probably wasn’t an immediate, physical danger to Shining Armor; otherwise, the assailant would have merely “dealt with” him on the Crystal Pavillion.

An edge of bile entered her mouth as the thought entered her mind, but she forced it back down. She was being rational. She couldn’t afford to lose herself in emotional responses. A Princess had to be better than that.

Therefore, Shining Armor had to be in another kind of danger. She could assume that his captor had had possession of some kind of magical or other, non-martial means of taking him prisoner; medical inspection of the guards who had last seen him had turned up no obvious traces of physical injury.

Finally, Shining Armor had been taken down here, specifically. So, it seemed likely that the attacker either couldn’t or wouldn’t pass through the barrier forming the boundary of the Empire; thus, they’d originated from somewhere in the city itself. It made sense, then, that the attacker had either originated from down here or had been a pony - or other creature - who possessed prior knowledge of Sombra’s ancient constructions and spells.

They were dealing with a likely-magical assailant who had not intended an immediate threat to Shining Armor or the guards near him. Said assailant had instead relocated to somewhere beneath the Crystal Palace, using magic or other means to access an area that only a specially-trained unicorn was supposed to be able to access.

Cadance’s brow furrowed. If not for the nonviolence that their target had so far shown, all signs seemed to point toward Sombra - a ghost or shade, perhaps - as their culprit. She had no idea of how such a thing might have been possible, however. Perhaps Quill had been far more correct than she’d initially suspected in advising caution in her judgement.

Third step, then. Remove any extra variables and reduce the scenario to one in which you are in complete control. Even in just thinking about it, Cadance was fairly sure that she’d already done an acceptable job in -

Her hooves hit the floor below the last step and she stumbled. She caught herself at the last minute and before she went fully head-over-hoof for whichever guard had been standing in front of her. Lieutenant Quill, who had been leading the way, turned back over his shoulder at the clatter and offered a comforting sort of half-smile. Thankfully, he said nothing.

“We have arrived,” Zirconic announced from his place near the front of their group. He was already squatting before the Door, his hoof held out toward it, though never quite getting close enough to trigger its flight response. A small light shone from his hoof. “And the Door appears to be exactly as we left it when the Order was last down here.”

“Good,” Quill said. A half-smirk, half-frown crossed his face as he noticed the glowing gemstone in Zirconic’s grasp, and he snorted. “Princess,” he said, once he’d gotten control of himself again, “whenever you’re ready.”

Cadance nodded and stepped to the front of the group. For whatever reason, Sombra had chosen to seal this door using a normal unicorn’s magic rather than his own, darker power. Magic of any kind forced it to stay in its place, but Twilight had found out the hard way what would happen if she attempted to use the same power that had gained her entry to the stairs in the first place.

Taking a deep breath, Cadance closed her eyes and touched her magical font once more. Power welled up in her, swirling in her veins as it moved toward and through her horn.

Something felt odd about her magic, though. It felt… sluggish. Weak. Cadance’s lip curled - she must be out of practice. She’d relied on butlers and servants and who knew what else for too long. When was the last time she’d used her magic for any serious task? She doubled down and yanked the energy from her font and shoved it into her horn.

The power, unlike Sombra’s magic, which had lashed out from her forehead in a crackle of energy, instead leapt gracefully from the tip of her horn to the jewelled crest atop the door. The gem glowed a bright pink, its center pulsating with magic. Cadance nodded to herself as the Door of Fears creaked open, revealing a blank white landscape beyond.

Lieutenant Quill took the lead once more, stepping through the door and glancing at both sides. Cadance and the rest followed when he signalled for them to come through, but when she saw his face, she noticed a grimace resting on his features.

“What is it?” she asked.

“See for yourself,” he said. He waved a hoof above his head. Cadance’s eyes followed it.

The staircase that had been here before was gone. When Twilight had shown them this area, there’d been a staircase - admittedly, a false one - that had been key to finding the place where the Crystal Heart had been kept. Now, however, the ground and walls around the Door were as clean and empty as a whitewashed room, with no staircase to be found.

“There,” Cerulean said, pointing up into the ‘sky.’ Cadance squinted and followed her gesture. Yes, there was a tiny smudge far up in the sky that might be the stairs that they had followed before, but they were far too high for any of her escort to reach. It looked like they would take her a long time to reach even while flying.

Out of something resembling spite, she almost readied her wings before remembering that the staircase itself was infinite. Their true destination lay in the opposite direction, yet another testament to the bizarre ways that Sombra had found to twist the universe to his will. Cadance pursed her lips and folded her wings again.

“It’s...decaying,” Zirconic said, peering through what looked to be a piece of glass. Undoubtedly, it was some kind of looking-gem that his Order had enchanted to hold enhanced vision.”It’s hard to make out, but each step is...I don’t know, fading. More and more with every second.”

“But why?” Quill demanded. “It was fine just the last time we came down here.”

“I could not say.” Zirconic stowed the glass back in his saddlebags. “From the rate, however, and the distance consumed, it cannot have been going on for long - a day, perhaps. Likely an even shorter period.”

“Like the time that has passed since Shining Armor was taken?” Cadance asked.

Zirconic did not reply verbally. He did nod, however, his brow creased and his lips thinned.

“So now what?” Quill asked, of nopony in particular. “That staircase was our one chance of finding General Armor.” A chorus of nods and agreeing grunts went up from the guards around him.

“Forgive me, Lieutenant, but I don’t believe we should give up just yet.”

They all turned to face Cerulean. She had a hoof on her snout, and was peering up at the tower thoughtfully. “The place where the Crystal Heart was stored was well-made, but all this seems like an awful lot of trouble to go to for a simple safe.”

“What do you mean?” Zirconic asked.

“Well, think about it,” Cerulean said. “The staircase was obviously intended to mislead anyone trying to find the Heart, but if that was what Sombra wanted to accomplish, he could have hidden it anywhere out here.” She projected the last word out over the vast, white space that lay out before them. “But doing so would ensure that the first place that anyone looked when trying to find the Heart would be somewhere around this tower.”

“So you’re saying that the staircase was not only a false trail, but a distraction from an entirely different entrance?” Cadance asked. Cerulean nodded.

“A pity your Order couldn’t do more to find one when they came down here,” Quill said to Zirconic. The mage’s cheeks flushed, and he turned away from the group.

“Lieutenant Quill!” Cadance said, scowling. “We don’t need that kind of pettiness right now.”

His cheeks colored as well, and he stared down at the ground. “I - my apologies, Princess. I just don’t know what came over me.”

“Nothing did,” came Zirconic’s voice, muffled by his cape. “It isn’t like there would be any meaningful thoughts in your head to stop such an outburst from occurring in the first place.”

Quill’s head snapped up so quickly that Cadance almost expected to hear his neck cracking like a whip. “What did you say about me?”

Zirconic turned back around, his cape curling around his sides. “I believe that your ears are suitable enough to have heard. Or has the memory already left your head?”

Quill’s expression darkened. “Those are pretty big words coming from a pony weak enough to depend on parlor tricks to make his living.” He laid a hoof on the sword at his side. Several of the guards around him did the same.

“I - “ Zirconic began, but Cadance had seen enough.

“No more!” she roared. “All of you are acting like foals! How dare you argue like this - threaten each other! - while my husband, your Prince and General, is trapped somewhere beneath our hooves! What kind of selfish, misguided, downright monstrous ponies could possibly - “

“Princess. I’ve found it.”

Cerulean’s mild words cut through Cadance’s tirade so sharply that the words felt like they’d been sliced right out of her throat. Cadance paused, blinked, turned around to see who had spoken, and then visibly deflated.

“Found what?” a guard asked from behind Quill. He was one of the few that hadn’t already had a hoof on his sword, though from the looks of it, he’d been close.

“I don’t know,” Cerulean said, “but I think you’ll want to take a look at it.” The last part was directed evenly between Cadance and Zirconic, the latter managing to find the decency to look at least somewhat abashed.

After a few moments of deep breaths, Cadance finally felt ready to respond. “Very well. Everypony, let’s - “

She was interrupted by the sound of clattering metal at her hooves. She glanced down with wide eyes. Lieutenant Quill had knelt to the ground before her, his eyes squeezed shut and his sword on the ground beside him.

“My Princess,” he bit out, “I have failed you. I have allowed myself to be overcome by folly and unreasonable pride. If you wish to take my rank and armor in punishment, then so be it.” Several other guards took his lead and knelt beside him, muttering similar statements.

Cadance opened her mouth to admonish him, but a thought occurred to her before she could speak a word. “Zirconic,” she said instead, “I want you to scan for lingering dark magic in the area.”

Zirconic started, the blush in his cheeks flaring up again. “I - yes, of course, your majesty.” He made a show of rummaging through his saddlebags before drawing out a small, spherical orb that he proceeded to hold up to his eye.

He took a sharp intake of breath. “It’s… There are heavy traces of it all around us. It’s thicker than fog. No wonder - “

“ - we’ve been bickering like schoolfillies?” Cadance finished for him. She turned back to Quill and the rest of the guards. “Rise, soldiers. You’ve been taking in the miasma of dark magic for as long as you’ve been here. It’s been seeping into your mind, corrupting your thoughts. Now that we know about it, however, we can shake its influence off.” Or at least, she hoped they could.

“Thank you, Princess,” Quill said. He clumsily took a stand again and resheathed his sword. “I will not fail you a second time.”

“I know you won’t,” Cadance said. She placed a hoof on his shoulder and met his gaze evenly. And I will not fail you, she silently added. The fact that she’d let things go on for so long without recognizing the obvious cause meant that she’d screwed up - big time. This was Sombra’s lair; she should have expected some lingering influences of his magic.

“Now,” she said firmly, “let’s go see what Cerulean has found.”

Cerulean’s discovery turned out to be a small depression in the wall of the tower directly opposite of the Door of Fear. At Cadance’s command, Zirconic kept his looking-glass in hoof and squinted through it at the location.

“There’s certainly something there,” he murmured, taking a step closer. “It’s subtle, but there’s a small magic field lingering just behind the surface.”

“Thank you, Cerulean,” Cadance said. Cerulean nodded in return.

“Now,” Zirconic muttered to himself, “if I can only…” He placed a hoof on the wall, closed his eyes, and rotated his leg ninety degrees. Then, as everyone watched, he began to pull his hoof back, a groaning, creaking sound echoing in the plain of nothingness as he did. By the time he’d finished, a door stood before them, a gem atop its frame like the one that decorated the Door of Fears.

Zirconic took a heavy step back. He was wheezing, sweat streaming down his face. “That...was not as easy as I expected,” he huffed. “Most...mages...couldn’t even manage that much.”

“But you did so anyway,” Cadance said. “Thank you, Zirconic.” Quill even offered him a grudging nod of approval.

It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

“Princess?” Cerulean asked. “Do you think that this door opens the same as the other?”

“Most likely,” Cadance said. She eyed the jewel atop the door - a faded, pale red, unlike the greyish blue of the Door of Fears. Was that significant? She hoped not. “There’s only one way to find out. Everypony, stand back.”

She summoned up her stores of magic once more. Now that she could recognize the pressure of the dark miasma on her font, it was easier to shift around it, to channel her magic almost as well as she could without its influence. A spark of bright pink energy leapt toward the gem, which lit up like a firework in response. Cadance held her breath as the door slowly crept open, the others crowding around her as it did.

Behind the door, standing in a small cell barely as large enough for two ponies to stand abreast, Shining Armor brushed the matted hair out of his eyes and offered her a weak smile.

“Hey,” he said. “You took your time.”

Chapter Three

There was music playing when Sombra opened his eyes again. He recognized the tune, though he could not remember the title. It was a smooth, legato sound that drifted into his ears like a river, its steady rhythm stirring his hooves to movement.

He realized that his hooves had already been in motion. There was a weight against his chest, and when he looked down he recognized the bright, cherry pink of Crystal Heart’s mane. Her coat smelled sweet, like lavender, and the feel of her fur against his chest tickled and stirred him in ways that he could not possibly say.

“My love,” Crystal Heart murmured. “You’ll have to tell me one day how you acquired your skill with dancing.”

“My Queen,” he murmured in reply. “Only when you tell me the source of your stunning beauty.” She laughed at that, a crystal-clear sound that warmed his heart and raised his spirits.

“I don’t imagine that the mages of Equestria teach their students in a ballroom,” she said. He smiled mysteriously.

“They teach in many places, my sweet,” he said. “There is more to me than you’ll ever know.”

“So you say,” she said. “Yet I see your mysteries as a challenge, not a dissuasion.”

“Then you accept my quest.”

She laid a hoof on his chest and smiled up at him. “Only if it leads me to your heart.”

“You already own that, your majesty.”

“Then it appears I’ve won our little game,” she said, her smile growing wider. For a moment, Sombra was tempted to sweep down, to steal a kiss from her scented lips, to press his mouth against hers and leave the ballroom behind.

Yet for some reason, he did not. Instead, he looked away, pursing his lips. Crystal Heart must have noticed, for she leaned her head against his chest and nuzzled the space below his neck as they swayed.

The rest of the ballroom was a grand piece of architecture, nearly as beautiful as the throne room itself. Great windows of stained glass and clear crystal towered from the floor to the ceiling, far, far, above their heads. Beyond the glass, the purples and crimsons of the setting sun were visible, the last glimmers of sunlight vanishing beyond a perfect, white snow. At the other end of the ballroom, the thin crescent of the nearly-new moon was barely visible, the stars twinkling around it as it rose above the mountains to the east.

The floor, fashioned of a crystal so milky and opaque as to appear as marble, was warm, not cold, beneath their hooves. Chandeliers dotted the ceiling above their heads like so many oversized fireflies, their candles flickering and wisping like the stars outside.

The music was like the heartbeat of the floor, ponies all around them swirling and swaying to the rhythm. It took Sombra but a fraction of a second to locate the chamber orchestra playing at the center of the hall: violins, cellos, a dainty harp. Even a flugelhorn offered its sharp, clear voice as the conductor, a lanky crystal stallion with a combed-over mane, guided it in solo.

There were ponies all around them, their dresses and suits as extravagant as anything Sombra had ever seen. Not a one compared to the dazzling beauty of Crystal Heart’s own dress, yet there was a prettiness to them all the same. Dresses flared and coattails bobbed as the ponies wearing them danced the night away, each fold of fabric shimmering in the candlelight.

Off in the corner of the room, Sombra noticed two ponies - familiar ones, he remembered, after a moment of thought. The mare wore a simple tiara upon her head, her dress a simple, silken piece of fabric that clung to her every muscle. There were some wrinkles above her eyes, but he was able to see that she was still beautiful. There was a regality to her step, a sense of all-empowering dignity that never once left her form.

Beside her danced a taller, thicker crystal stallion. His mane was cut short, the hair already beginning to grey. He too wore a simple outfit, a red coat decorated in gold trim. A single medallion twinkled from his breast. From here, the image upon its surface was too small to see, but Sombra knew it well. It was a single rose, its stem crossed with the blade of a sword - the mark of the Prince-Consort of the Crystal Empire.

The former Queen and her husband danced with the music, but it was a mechanical motion, with neither pony losing themselves to the festivities like the others around them. Both carrie themselves stiffly, and appeared to be dancing past one another, rather than with each other. Once in a while, one’s eyes would sweep over Sombra and his dancing partner, their gaze cold and without feeling.

“Your parents are watching,” Sombra murmured, Crystal Heart nuzzling against his chest.

She snorted. “Let them.”

“They do not approve.”

“A Queen makes her own choices.”

“A Queen does her duty,” he said softly. She shook her head.

“My duty is what I choose it to be,” Crystal Heart said. “And I choose it to be you.”

“But - “

“Please,” she said. “No.”

Sombra fell silent.

“Always,” she said. “Always, you turn me away. Always you refuse me. But tonight, I will not allow you to send me away like a foal.”

“I want only what is best for you.”

“You love me,” she said. Somehow, she managed to make the words feel like a slap against his face. “And nothing my parents or advisors say can ever change that.”

He bowed his head.

“Say it,” she said. A Queen never begged, she’d once told him...but now, there was an unmistakable edge to her voice. A desperation he hadn’t noticed before. “For the love you bear me, tell me now. Let me know that my love is not in vain.”

There was no need to guess what she meant. Sombra opened his mouth, but the words caught themselves on the edge of his tongue.

Three words. Three tiny, little words. Why couldn’t he say them?

It wasn’t right, he wanted to say. This wasn’t where he was meant to be.

But here was Crystal Heart, holding herself against his chest. Here was the mare of his dreams, offering herself to him in the most earnest of ways. And all he had to do was say three words.

Why couldn’t he say them?

Sombra. I am Sombra. I love Crystal Heart. Sombra. I am Sombra. I love Crystal Heart. I am -

Weeping silently, Crystal Heart brought his head down to her own and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. Sombra closed his eyes.

Another stallion opened them.

“This isn’t right,” he said quietly. “This isn’t right.”

“My love,” Crystal Heart said, “please, if I have done wrong - “

“This isn’t real,” the stallion said, his voice growing louder. He looked up, catching the glimmer of the dresses, of the floor, of the starlight upon the snow. The floor felt real beneath his hooves. The music sounded real to his ears. But it wasn’t. It couldn’t be. “None of this is actually happening.”

“My love, please - “

“I’m not Sombra,” he said. “This isn’t my place. This isn’t my time.” He glanced down at his hooves - they were white now, then black, flickering between the two like a candle about to be blown out.

“Please, stop,” Crystal Heart begged him. “Sombra, my love. Ponies are starting to look.”

He was almost shouting now, he realized. He glanced into her eyes, and for an instant, he was tempted to listen to her, to stop, to go on as it had been before. But that wasn’t possible.

“I don’t know what my name is,” he said, “but it isn’t Sombra.”

“No - “

“This isn’t my time,” he said quietly, looking into her eyes. “I’m not who you think I am.”

“Yes, you are,” she insisted. Her hoof caught on his sleeve. “Please, Sombra. I don’t know what cruel joke this is, but you must stop. Please. “

More and more ponies were starting to stare. The former Prince and Queen had ceased their mockery of a dance and had begun to step toward them, the crowd parting to let them through. The orchestra had stopped, the last pluck of the harp ringing throughout the ballroom.

“It’s no joke,” the stallion said, louder. “And you are not, and never will be, my Queen.”

Crystal Heart’s touch on his shoulder felt cold as ice. When the stallion looked again, he saw that the purple shine of her eyes had gone out. In its place was left a glassy stare of icy silver, a gaze that pierced through his skin and past his heart.

“I am your Queen,” Queen Crystal Heart whispered. “And you will be my Prince.”

There came an icy pinch on his neck, and then the stallion knew no more.

Before Cadance knew it, she had him in her hooves, muzzle against his chest. It was a moment before she realized that the yelp of pure joy that still echoed in the air had been hers. His coat was warm to the touch, and she held him close.

“You’re okay,” she said, nuzzling his shoulder. He chuckled.

“Now that you’re here, I am,” he said. “Lieutenant Quill. Looks like you did a great job in getting Cadance down here.”

‘It wasn’t just me, sir.” Cadance turned to see Quill bowing and gesturing to the side. “Your wife did a lot of the work. This mage here was a real help, too.”

Cadance raised an eyebrow as a smile flickered across Zirconic’s face. It was good that they’d made up, she supposed. There didn’t seem to be a hint of sarcasm in Quill’s voice. For that matter, the rest of the guards were nodding along with him, more than one shooting a hoofs-up in Zirconic’s direction.

“So what was it that took you?” Cadance asked, as a pair of guards moved to support him at either side. He might have been alive and well, but there were deep circles under Shining’s eyes, and he looked fit to collapse at any moment.

“Sombra,” Shining said bitterly. “Some construct of his that he’d left in waiting beneath the castle.”

Cadance nodded to herself. She wouldn’t say “I told you so” to Quill - especially after what he’d just done for Zirconic - but she had told him so. “Did he hurt you at all?”

Shining gave a laugh. “He would’ve if he’d wanted to. Funnily enough, I think it only had enough juice to get me down here in the first place. Couldn’t see or hear a damn thing in that cell. I haven’t seen it since it locked me in there - must’ve fallen apart or something.”

“That might have been the miasma we’d seen earlier,” Cerulean said. “If only we’d thought of it earlier.”

Cadance bobbed her head, a soft smile on her face. “But now we know about it. It won’t trouble us again.”

“If that’s the last remnant of Sombra’s magic, Princess, then we should be fine,” Quill said, falling into step beside her. The group rounded the tower and approached the Door of Fear. Something seemed off about the Door, but for the life of her, Cadance couldn’t figure out what. She shrugged it off as a remnant of the dark magic she’d been channeling - with that stuff in her system, she was bound to feel a little odd afterward.

“So it looks like this little quest is over,” Quill noted from her side. “Time to get out of here and get life back to normal.”

“You’re sure that cell was all that was down there?” Zirconic was asking Shining. “Nothing else of Sombra’s castle?”

“Nothing at all,” Shining said. “I went over every inch of that place - looked like a complete dead end to me.”

“A pity,” Zirconic said. “I would have liked to see what he’d stored away, if anything.”

“From what I’ve heard, you wouldn’t,” Cerulean said. Quill nodded, his hoof going reflexively to the sword at his side.

“I’m sorry that you all had to go through all of this on my behalf,” Shining said. “I can’t say that it’s fun being the damsel in distress.”

“Well,” Cadance teased, “I certainly enjoyed being your knight in shining armor.” Shining snorted, but shot her a good-natured smile all the same.

“Well, let’s hope that neither of us ends up in a mess like this again,” he said. “The adventure’s over, so now’s the time to live out that happily ever after.”

Cadance started nodding along, but caught herself. Wait. Something wasn’t right. There was a detail they’d missed.

Then it hit her. “What about the Crystal Heart?”

Their group stopped. “What about it?” Quill called back from his place near the front. They were almost at the top of the staircase by now, nearly back at the throne room.

“It’s still burned out,” Cadance said. There was a lump in her throat. “We saved Shining, but we never found out what happened to the Heart.”

“But the barrier’s still holding,” Quill said. “And for all we know, that spirit of Sombra’s was the only thing keeping it dark. It’s probably as bright as a Hearth’s Warming tree by now.”

Cadance felt a weight on her shoulder. “Don’t worry about it,” Shining murmured into her ear. “It’s probably nothing. You worry too much.” His lips brushed against her ear, his breath warm and comforting on her coat.

Cadance’s skin went icy cold.

Lieutenant Quill would never dismiss her fears about the Crystal Heart. The Heart was his people’s prized treasure, the one thing that the Imperial Army had been able to take pride in protecting since their Empire’s return. He - and Zirconic, too, whose Order held the Heart up as their most valuable piece of study - would never have consented to leaving without ensuring that they’d done everything that they could that would restore the Heart to power.

And Hearth’s Warming Eve wasn’t even celebrated in the Crystal Empire - why would he have used that comparison?

It’s probably nothing, a voice told her. Don’t worry about it.

You worry too much, Shining’s voice told her. Relax. Don’t think.

Why would Quill and Zirconic suddenly be the best of friends? They may not be bickering, but it made no sense for them to be chatting amiably at the front of the party, as a glance up and to the side confirmed. And was Quill listening - with obvious interest! - as Zirconic lectured him about one of his many enchanted gemstones? What was going on here?

It was too easy. She’d wanted the culprit to be Sombra, and it turned out that she’d been right. But the spirit - shade, golem, whatever - had disappeared the instant it’d sealed Shining away. Wasn’t that convenient? And Shining himself had suffered no mistreatment save for a few hours’ isolation and lost sleep. How could Sombra, who had suffered a final, humiliating defeat at their hooves, allow that?

Shining had asked her for a happily-ever-after. That wasn’t the first time they’d discussed that old and tired trope, but they’d never discussed it anything but jest before. To Shining, growing old and fat was the most disgusting idea he could think of. He wanted to be in the field, supporting his troops, protecting his people from danger. Protecting her.

And now he didn’t.

“You’re not Shining,” she whispered.

Nopony else stopped. Cadance grunted as a guard bumped up against her flank and immediately apologized. “You’re not real,” she said, louder.

Shining stopped and turned back. He raised an eyebrow, smirking in that boyish way only he could. “What’re you talking about? Of course I’m real.”

“You’re not,” she said, and realized what had been wrong about the Door of Fear when they’d passed through it the second time. The gem above the frame hadn’t been blue-grey, like it usually was. Instead, it’d been a faded, rusty red…

...like the gem that had sat above Shining’s cell.

“Come on,” Shining said, chuckling. By now, Quill and the rest had stopped their ascent and were staring at them oddly. “I’m as real as anypony. Come on. Doesn’t this feel real?” He leaned in closer, his muzzle almost touching hers.

She pushed him away. That was his smile, his eyes, his snout - but it wasn’t him. She could see it now: the iciness of his grin, the emptiness behind his eyes. This Shining was a fake.

“I’m still back there,” she whispered, “aren’t I? Still staring at that door, just like Twilight was.”

“Cadance, I - “

“Stay back,” she said, loudly. “I don’t know what you are, but you aren’t my Shining Armor. And I’m going to get out of here.”

“Princess - “

“Quiet.”

She closed her eyes. She drew up her magic, felt it swirling and singing in her veins..but it felt odd. Sluggish. Like there was something in the way.

She’d heard about potential ways to end illusions before, to stop magical trances. She’d just never had the opportunity to try one before. Summoning up her will, she took a firm grasp on the flow from her magical font, identified the problem area, and cut off the flow of magic. For an instant, her heart stopped.

Then she released her hold, exhaling deeply when she felt her heartbeat pick up again. Slowly, she opened her eyes.

She was sitting before what had been the door to Shining’s cell, a bright light shining from beyond its doorframe. At the top, the rusty-red gem now glowed a brilliant scarlet, a blood-red flame dancing in its depths.

“Princess!” It was Cerulean’s voice, and a moment later, Cadance felt the mare’s hooves on her shoulders, holding her tight and shaking her. “You need to - “

“I’m awake,” Cadance said - or rasped. She took a moment to recollect her thoughts, making sure to moisten her lips, and turned back to face Cerulean. Quill and a few guards were going around the group, poking and prodding at a few ponies who were still staring vacantly at the Door, their jaws ajar and their eyes dazed. “How long was I out?”

“At least half an hour, give or take,” Quill replied. “According to Cerulean here, anyway. I just woke up ten minutes ago. We’re still working to wake the rest of my boys up.”

Cadance looked around. About five or six crystal ponies seemed to still be captives to the Door’s magic, whatever it was. Zirconic, the one pony she hadn’t noticed yet, was huddled up on his own toward the edge of the group, his cloak held tight around him and his head pointed at the ground.

“I’m guessing closing the Door didn’t work?” Cadance asked quietly. Cerulean shook her head.

“We tried. Zirconic’s current hypothesis is that the Door can only be closed when all of the ponies under its spell have been freed.”

“Or otherwise removed from its sphere of influence,” Zirconic mumbled. Cadance’s ears perked up at the sound of his voice.

“So it may be a proximity spell?” she said.

Zirconic paused, then nodded. “I’m almost certain. It looks to be channeled through the gem, and all gemspells - “

“ - have limited radii.”

“Exactly,” he said.

Cadance thought for a moment. “And they won’t wake at all?”

“Waking you took a very long time, Princess,” Cerulean said. “There’s no telling how long they might take.”

Cadance turned to the side, but Quill was already at work. “You, you, and you,” he said, directing several of the guards that were already awake. “Take these five and take them back to the throne room.”

“Will that be enough?” Cadance asked.

“Should be,” Zirconic said.

“And if it doesn’t work?”

Zirconic shrugged. “Drop a bucket of cold water on their heads. That’s not our problem.” Quill scowled in his direction, but said nothing.

Five minutes later, the guards had re-entered the main stairway carrying their hypnotized comrades back toward the throne room. Cadance surveyed the area; of the sixteen ponies that had descended the stairs, only four were left: herself, Zirconic, Cerulean, and Quill.

Another three minutes later, the gemstone dimmed, the door slamming shut below it. Cadance sighed and swept the door with her magic, checking for any remaining signs of magic. Nothing. She suspected it’d activate again if she tried to open the door the same way, though,

So what to do?

On a whim, she decided to reach out and touch the door. As expected, the door sped to the side - but in that brief flash of moment, she saw the color of the gemstone flicker, going from a dull red to a bright, glimmering white.

She knew that color. That was the same kind of stone as those in the throne room - the ones that had opened the way to Sombra’s castle. A fraction of a second later, the color had flickered back to red, but that was fine. Cadance had her answer.

“Princess, I - “ Quill swallowed his words as he saw a spark of dark energy spring up around Cadance’s horn. Evidently, whatever he’d had to ask had been answered by her decision, or perhaps he’d just forgotten it.

Cadance grit her teeth, summoning up Sombra’s power once more. The dark magic oozed through her system, her legs and chest feeling like they’d been coated with a thick, greasy oil. The sparks around her horn increased in intensity until a black blaze had sprung up on her forehead, sucking in all of the light around it. Then, just as she had before, straining to keep the corruption from touching her own magic font, she let the power go. A bolt of black energy leapt from her forehead and onto the gem.

Just like before, a deep, black corruption spread across its surface. Cadance let out a breath as she saw the doorway flicker and then disappear, revealing a set of onyx-black stairs behind it. A pair of emerald-green torches flanked the entrance, though the steps themselves faded into an impenetrable darkness after a few yards.

Cadance raised a hoof to wipe the sweat off her forehead. She closed her eyes, taking a moment to try and purge her system of any traces of dark magic. Only then did she dare touch her font once more. She let out a sigh of relief as she felt the warm, clean touch of her own magic once more.

Lieutenant Quill was already inspecting the staircase, his sword at the ready. Zirconic stood beside him, his looking-glass gem all but glued to his eye as he surveyed the material at his hooves.

Cadance turned to her side. Cerulean was there, her eyebrows furrowed and her lips drawn tight. Cadance offered a smile, and Cerulean nodded in return, the tension in her face decreasing slightly. The meaning was clear. She didn’t like the use of dark magic any better than Cadance did.

“It’s safe,” Quill announced. He stood on the top stair, head facing back over his shoulder. “No traps or beasties that I can see.”

“No lingering spells,” Zirconic said. “Though the miasma of dark magic is absolutely disgusting.”

“Either way,” Cadance said, “we don’t have to go in alone. Quill, how much longer do you think your ponies will be?”

“Another ten minutes, maybe,” Quill said. “No more than that. Maybe a little less.”

“Then we don’t have long to wait,” Cadance said.

Another two minutes passed. Three. Cadance fidgeted with her mane, her other hoof tapping on the floor. The other three remained mostly silent. Quill threw wary looks down the staircase they’d opened at least once every few seconds, as if he expected Sombra himself to come roaring out of the doorway the second her turned away. Zirconic merely sat off by himself, cloak concealing most of his body as he mumbled into a well-polished emerald. Cerulean merely stood patiently, her face appearing patient, but her body betraying a poorly-hidden tension.

Cadance sighed and reached up to adjust her tiara. Her hoof doubled its pace. She didn’t like this. She didn’t want to stand here, waiting. Who knew what could have happened to Shining by now?

He isn’t in any immediate danger, her rational mind told her.

We don’t know that, she retorted, and told her rational mind to shove off. She didn’t like this. At least with Chrysalis she’d known what the danger was. Here, though, she felt blind. Lost. They didn’t even know they were going the right way; how could they be sure that -

Her tiara clattered to the ground. Cadance reached down to pick it up, aware of the looks that each of the others were giving her.

Odd. It shouldn’t have fallen off - she hadn’t been fidgeting with it too much. She touched the end with a hoof.

Wait. There. The two prongs that had extended into her mane to keep the tiara in place were missing. She almost felt up her mane to see if they’d broken off somewhere, but something about the tiara kept her gaze in place. Then she noticed what she was looking at, and a chill ran down her spine: A faint white glow had sprung up around the edges of the tiara, with what looked like a dusting of snow flittering away through the air at either end. With each passing second, however, the tiara grew a little shorter, the white sparks at the ends reaching up another millimeter and leaving only empty air behind.

“Zirconic,” she said, a lump in her throat. “Take a look at this.”

He looked up and turned around as she hovered the tiara over to him. His eyes widened perceptibly as he noticed the sparks around the edges.

“It’s the same field that was disintegrating the staircase,” he said. He swallowed. “It’s...unweaving.”

Quill gave Cadance an odd look. “I didn’t know your tiara was made out of cloth, Princess.”

“Not like a cloth,” Zirconic spat. “Idiot. Unweaving. Unbecoming. Ceasing to be.” Quill’s cheeks flushed at the insult, but his face quickly paled as Zirconic finished.

“How is that possible?” Quill asked. “We’ve been down here for a while. Why isn’t it affecting us?”

“Look at your sword,” Zirconic said. Quill reluctantly slid the blade out of its scabbard. They all gaped: The top three inches of the tip seemed to have been sliced off, the same glowing white field shimmering around the ends.

“Inanimate. Metal,” Zirconic said. “It’s soft material. Magicless. Whatever was affecting the stairs is affecting that, too. Such a field wouldn’t affect living material at first - we have too much magic for that - but given enough time, we’d have no way stop it. The only other material that would last as long would be - “

“ - gemstones,” Cerulean finished. Zirconic rolled his eyes, obviously annoyed at the constant interruptions.

“Yes. The magical stability of the gemstones means that they’ll be here long after our bodies have lost their integrity. But that does us no good.” Zirconic shook his head. “Whatever this dimension is that Sombra decided to use as a gateway, it’s evidently rejected his magic. It’s removing itself of all foreign materials - ourselves included.”

“Princess?” Quill asked, turning to Cadance. “What’s your call?”

Cadance bit her lip. They couldn’t turn back now - they had to rescue Shining. For all she knew, this was the only route that would lead them to him. If they turned back, they might lose that route forever. She had little faith that, once they’d left this place, they’d be able to easily return.

But Shining’s wasn’t the only life at stake here. Zirconic, Cerulean, and Quill were all stuck down here with her. Their lives were all at as much risk as hers - likely more, as her alicorn constitution and expanded stores of magic would likely give her greater survivability against such a threat. They’d followed her down here into probable danger, but this was different. This was a potentially certain death. And they didn’t even know what lay at the bottom of those stairs.

She looked at the other, and made her decision. “Quill,” she said. “Go open the first door. We’re leaving.”

Zirconic’s legs visibly sagged with relief. Quill only made a rapt salute and rounded back around the tower. Cadance turned to see what Cerulean’s response had been.

“Princess!” Quill called from the other side of the tower. “You might want to see this.”

The Door of Fear had vanished.

Well, not entirely - the outline of the door was still there. But more than half of it had been eaten away, a dim white glow buzzing around its edges. The doorknob had gone insubstantial, and when Cadance tried to lay a hoof on it, she went right through to touch the tower beyond.

“Looks like this place has made our decision for us,” Quill muttered.

“It seems so,” Cadance said. She felt a flash of resurgent joy - they were going to rescue Shining - followed by immediate guilt. Were these ponies’ lives really worth so little to her? Was she so desperate that she’d jump for joy even when they might have lost their only way out?

Well. Worrying over it would do her little good now. She took a breath, nodded, and stepped forward. “Looks like we’re going down.”

The stallion saw white.

He groaned, squirming as he felt the feeling rush back into his hooves and legs. He blinked a few times to see where he was - but no, only white remained.

White, and a glimmer of pink.

“You’re so cold,” Crystal Heart whispered, cupping his chin in her hoof. “And yet...so impossibly warm.” Her hoof brushed against his cheek, and she shuddered. Whether it was with pleasure, trepidation, or something else entirely, though, the stallion could not say.

The stallion grunted and made a half-hearted motion to push her hoof away. It made little difference; he was far too weak to do more than raise it a half a foot off the ground. A smile flitted across Crystal Heart’s face.

“Hush, my love,” she whispered. “Fear not.” The traces of ice were gone from her eyes, leaving only the familiar purple behind. But wait - what was that flash of cold in her gaze? The stallion wondered how he hadn’t noticed it before.

“Where...are we?” he managed to say. Speech came hard, and every word felt like it had to be forced out through a sieve.

“Exactly where we seem to be,” Crystal Heart said. “Can you not see?”

He squinted. “There’s...nothing. At all.”

“Are you so sure?” Crystal Heart asked. She leaned down and nuzzled his ear, her breath warm on his skin. “Look again.”

The stallion squeezed his eyes shut. When he opened them again, the blank white void looked much the same - no; there was something in the distance. A shimmer; a faded outline. He blinked again, and the outline became that much stronger. A third time, and he could make out colors. Slowly, the space around him faded into view until the white void had disappeared completely.

It was a room. His room, he knew - but only until he shook it off. It wasn’t his room. He’d never seen it before.

And yet…

“Whose room is this?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

Crystal Heart raised an eyebrow. “Why, yours, of course. You are not well.”

“It’s not mine,” he bit out. The words were coming easier now.

“Your poor mind,” she said. This time, he had the strength to brush away the hoof she made to lay against his forehead. She pursed her lips. “My dear Prince, what have they done to you?”

They. Who could they be? The stallion racked his brains for an answer, but found nothing. He almost laughed - what use was his memory when he couldn’t remember his own name?

He could remember what it wasn’t. He could remember - somehow - who Crystal Heart was. And he could remember something else: a face, a glowing blue horn, a purple-gold mane -

He winced, a lance of pain lashing through his forehead. The image disappeared as quickly as it had come.

“Why am I here?” he managed to force out. “What do you want with me?” Crystal Heart smiled.

“You are here so that I can save you,” she said.

“From who?”

“Those who would do us harm.”

He squinted. “Your...parents?”

Crystal Heart laughed, but the beauty of it was gone. Instead, the sound of her mirth cut through the air like a jagged knife. “No. Not my useless parents. Their disapproval means nothing to me.”

Her laughter stopped, and she looked down at him with pursed lips. “There is a darkness stalking you, Sombra. Out there, you are not safe. See how it has touched your mind, turned you against me?”

“I haven’t - ” he began, but she hushed him with a wave of her hoof.

“You have forgotten who you are,” she said sadly. “But fear not. Here, I can protect you. Here, you are safe.”

In the blink of an eye, she was standing by the door, her form blurring without so much as single motion. In another blink, she was outside, the doorknob grasped tightly in her hoof.

The stallion got to his hooves, grunting. “No - wait. You don’t understand. I’m not - “

“And perhaps,” Crystal Heart said, “if I leave you here, you will remember who you are.” The door began to close.

“No!” the stallion shouted. He limped forward, each step like molasses. “Stop! Don’t leave me in here!”

The door slammed shut. By the time the stallion reached it, it was obvious what had happened. He tried the door anyway.

It was locked. He was stuck here.

Here. In Sombra’s room.

If I leave you...perhaps you will remember who you are.

The stallion shivered. Once more, he tried to remember his name, and once more, he failed. He tried the door again. Nothing. He hadn’t expected it to be unlocked, but it had been worth the try.

His head bowed, and a thick sheen of sweat covering his body, the stallion limped back toward the bed. He lifted himself up to the mattress with a grunt and curled up with his head beneath his hooves. He would wait.

And he would sleep.