Chapter I

Awakening

Far in the north, covered with snow at any time of the year, shaped and formed by the nature's powers over the millenniums, laid the majestic mountains of the crystal empire. Though they were not only so famous thanks to their size and extent - some of them were even more gigantic than Mount Canterlot - but more due to the mysterious ocean of myths and legends that entwined them. Stories of terrifying dragons, ugly trolls, evil witches, and an evironment that seemed to be Death's favourite.

There were never performed many expeditions into this dangerous and shadowy region, and most of those brave ponies who dared to take the risk never returned to tell what wondrous and lethal things they've seen. Even today, none pony with its mind in the right place would venture it to stay there too long.

In this feared and uneconomic terrain, almost entirely hidden in the eternal snow masses by its white fur, a small snow fox fought his way through the white mass. It was snowing immensely, the wind howled over the exposed tundra, and it actually was a weather where every mortal being wanted to stay at home. Not so the fox, though, a streak of unfortunate hunts forced it outside; hunger is a powerful compulsion.

Already weakened by its malnutrition, carefully and with withdrawn tail, the slender creature desperately searched for something, anything to eat. Occasionally it held its nose in the icy air, trying to sniff for an easy prey, or at least some prey. A strong wind scudded over the tundra and there was little to hide, a sudden gust caught the fox unprepared, throwing it into the snow.

It whimpered, its nose had hit something. Something that was buried under the snow.

The white hunter fastly recovered after this discovery, and swiftly it started to dig it free, hoping for a small meal that could lengthen its life for a few hours. Despair made it unwary, and took its toll.

As soon as the snow fox freed the...object, it leaped away. The thing was not a delicious meal, not even something eatable; it was a horn, neither snow nor freezing air seemed to left their traces on it as it laid there, inharmed, and apparently harmless. Now curious, the fox slowly pried at the strange thing, it smelled odd; in a moment of brashness, it touched the horn with the tip of his nose, still prying.

Then everything happened utterly fast. The second the fox pulled back, a dark bilious green strand was attached to its nose, and it came from the horn which had started to glow in a weak green. Panicking, the helpless animal tried to get the weird substance off, but it was no use. The strand began to grow, and while the glowing also became stronger, the fox's attempts to get away slowly were drowned till it was nothing more than a whimpering mass, covering its head and closed eyes with its paws, hoping for this nightmare to end soon.

Then the whimpering stopped abruptly.

The fox stood up, but this time strong and steady, a total contrast to the state in which it arrive.

It opened its eyes. Instead of the former, beautiful blue, they were green now, the same dark green the strand had radiated, and, even worse, they had lost their warmth, staring at the horn soullessly.

A few heartbeats passed before it grabbed the horn with its teeth and sped into the tundra as if it was well rested and nourished. It vanished in the distance in the matter of seconds.

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The sun was almost about to set as the white plains of the north disappeared in an ever-growing blizzard, creating a environment even more deadly than it were before. Through this monstrosity of Mother Nature's forces a small fox ran. It seemed near dead, its body was littered with big, open wounds, one even covered its entire back, the only thing looking alive were the glowing eyes. Still, the fox seemingly did not care as it dashed unimpeded through the howling wind.

The half-dead creature continued to wander a few more minutes before it suddenly stopped. The green eyes were set on the storm above it. The fox kept staring, intensely observing the white bustle.

Something was in the air.

There.

Almost completely hidden in the cold mess, a slender, subtler, and ice-blue glowing string silently and softly levitated above the submissive creature. It bared its teeth, letting out a growl of approvement.

The horn, still between the teeth, started to shine. At first it was gentle, weak, and green hue but then it rapidly grew into a violent bilious green light that was close to blinding. The fox's white fur was colored green from the powerful radiance as it put the magical object on the ground, slowly backing away after to leave to mysterious horn alone.

Something happened. The soft, blue strings in the gelid air also started to brightly glow as they felt the power of the horn, and began to sent thin threads down to it, it immediately reacted with its own green strings. As both sides of strings got closer the storm intensed vigorously. The moment before they touched, the air seemed electrified as small flashes of pure energy pierced the storm. Then they touched each other.

Everything abruptly stopped for a blink of an eye: the storm, the wind, the falling of the snow, even the quiet breathing of the fox that laid hidden in the snow. It all went out for the tiniest of a second, only to return full force. The strings violently flickered and, as they blended together, intensified their light till the entire storm was glowing in a brilliant mix of green and blue.

Then there was a flash, bright, but silent, and everything went white. In the awakening of the next second, it all was gone.

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The fox fought its way out of the snow it was buried under during the event. As it finally was able to free itself, instead of a rampaging blizzard it found silence. The storm was gone. The air was clear, slightly elektified, and still cold. The wide tundra peacefully lay there, the visibility conditions were near perfect, and in the far distant even the lovely colors of the Crystal Tower could be seen.

Yet, something was new. A black mass laid before the fox, right there where once was the horn, resting from the crushing magic that just occured.

A head arised from the mass, black as the worst nightmares, its mouth slightly agape, giving free view at the white, sharp teeth that would let every carnivor put its tail between its legs. A well-known horn adorned the head. The closed eyelids snapped open and violet-green eyes that seemed to radiate darkness observed the surroundings with a keen gaze. The head turned around, taking in everything, then stopped at the fox that simply stared back with its empty eyes.

The mass rised, revealing its true form. A pony with a coat that seemed to be the definition of pure darkness stood firm in the snow.

Sombra, at least that what remained. His magnificient red cape was gone, destroyed in the fire of passion and love, a fate the rest of his clothes shared, only he survived, barely.

What happened?

A soft breeze whirled some snow up that gently swirled around his body, bringing memories with it.

Right. The spell. His banishment. His awakening. The power he'd felt. Power he piled up over the hundreds of years. Hundreds of years resting, knowing that someday he would return to end what he had began.

But what happened? He should have overrun them with his power. What stopped him?

His mind was a maze, a total mess, but despite all confusion, one memory clearly protruded.

The princess...yes, the pseudo-princess, and her guardian in white, this shield creating monster.

They were there before him, somehow they outran him, getting to the Empire before he did, and creating this cursed shields that hindered him to enter.

His gaze was set on the horizont, where the cyan aurora of the Crystal Empire softly, but energetically scared the darkness away. Under the calming light his memories slowly rearrenged themselves.

He remembered.

Imprisioned for ten centuries. Banished from his own homeland. Bound to a void, flowing through an universe of nothingness with darkness as his chains, oh the irony. The pleasure of gather power, so much power, and the pain, the suffering of not being able to release it.

He could remember now.

His rage. His wantonness.

They were imprisoned. The barrier that safed them from him also was their oubliette. So why did he wait? Why did he watched them? Why did he not get help. Because he was afraid? Afraid that they might find this cursed stone.

No.

He had hid it well. Furthermore, it was impossible to get it alone, his spells were unbreakable for one single individuum, since they were made for capturing one mind at a time. Two minds could always safe each other and inspire to create new ways of solving puzzles. So he simply created rooms where only one pony can enter at a time, in case of two or more were trying to follow, he had integrated a teleportation spell that was activated as soon as the surplus ponies entered. In most cases, the pony that had entered first would turn back to search for its companion or companions. Sounds easy, sadly it is not quite that simple. He could not primitively create a spell to inhibit ponies, a spell could be found and destroyed; but there are other ways. Dark magic eventually gave him access to powers beyond all imaginations, and also solved his problem.

First of all, the pony had to use dark magic on the crystal above his throne to find the hidden stairs. The moment it put its mind into the dangerous deeps of this kind of power and activated the crystal, it was marked. Only this certain pony could enter his sanctuary. Since the crystal can only get activated by one pony, it was impossible for others to follow.

Nevertheless, somehow they got past his security system.

Interesting.

He stretched his sore limbs. He felt weak. The power of the high crystal was immense, and unfortunately immune to all corruption. It was a weapon against the dark and the hatred, all he represented.

The weather slowly recovered from his intervention, the wind became sharper, the snowfall stronger. He had to move, he could not die by cold but he could freeze, a painful experience.

With most of his powers gone, he was forced to recuperate. His gaze fell on the massive mountains opposed of the Crystal Tower.

Maybe its time to visit an old friend.

Yes, this was what he should have done before. He was foolish, and it took its toll. Additionally, there was nothing he can do now, with both body and mind weakened, he had to hide.

He exactly knew where.

His designation set, he started to trot towards the shadows of the mysterious mountains. There was no hurry in his pace, he had time. The world seemed to think he was dead, otherwise they would have searched for him. The more time passed, the less they expected his return. They will forget, and then he would come. After the disaster with the Empire, this time, time was his ally, and he precisely intuited how to use it.

He did not know, though, that he was followed.

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The day passed. The mighty sun was in this grim lands nothing more than a pale sphere. Its warmth almost entirely lost. Winter reigned here all times of the year, and only the strongest and toughest creatures could survive Death's cold grip. The mountains were home for many beings, their caves and gorges were perfect to hide from bigger creatures and the merciless snow. To one of those caves drew it the dark king. There were no paths or streets, and the mountain face was angular and slippery, so he had to walk carefully and slow, even though he could not die easily, a fall from this high was not something he want to experience. But he had time, and, moderately, but steadily went his way up.

He was around half way up the mountain as he finally found the entry. It was giantic, even the biggest dragon could easily fit into this enormity of a cave. This cave was his destination. A small smile crept on his face as he surveyed the monstrosity, but something was odd.

His horn started to glow weakly in a dim green as he entered.

Yes, something was indeed odd. The cave looked like it had not been used for centuries. Did he left? But why should he?

Slowly he crept deeper into the depths of the mountain. The walls were decorated with ice, from the ceiling hung long and sharp icicles, lurking for a negligent prey to impale.

Wait, Icicles? Strange, there were never icicles in his cave, he was too big, his back always scratched against the ceiling. Alone the length of them, at least two metres, bespoke how long he had to be already gone.

This is...unexpected

After some time, he eventually arrived at the center, a giantic cavern, but, as he expected, there was nothing in it.

Where was he?

What happened?

He was supposed to guard this place, his place. Sombra left some important and powerful objects behind, knowing well that a dragon would rather die than forsake something.

Suddenly in a hurry, he scanned the cave with his magic. Nothing. It was all gone. Even his own special crystal. Damn. This was bad. Keep calm, he probably took it with him. He promised to keep it safe, he never broke a promise.

Maybe he thought the dark king would never return. No. He knew better than that. He knew what he was capable of, of his dark powers that had no bounds.

No. There was something that would lead him to his friend, something he had not found yet.

Hm, it had to be something a creature cannot easily find, in case of some mad-brave hero or suicidal pony, troll, or whatever, entered. So he must hid it. But where? And how did he ensure that Sombra, and only Sombra, would find it.

Deep in thoughts, the dark pony did not notice the white creature that had followed him all the way over the tundra, up the mountain, and into the cave.

The fox looked with its empty eyes first at Sombra, then its gaze fell on the matt object in front of it. The fox knew what its master searched for, even if the master did know it himself yet. Carefully it picked the object up, bringing it to the master.

Sombra's thoughts found an abrupt end as something prodded him. His cold gaze fell on the white fox that was sitting besides him, and continually poked him with a big...flake?

Of course, dragon scales are immune to almost all kinds of magic. That is why he could not detect it earlier with his spell. His green magic surrounded the black scale, bringing it closer to his face. He remembered this type of scale, only one dragon could call those his.

He knew it was dangerous, most would even call it suicide, but here he was, in front of him the massive, black, and intimidating entry to the cave of the maybe most feared dragon that ever laid its shadow upon this world. Though, as if that was not crazy enough, his true intention was way more crazier, and every pony with its mind in the right place would already bought a gravestone with his initials on it. Of course, this did not got him off his course, his mind was obscured with hatred and rage; his target was clear, though. Either he reached it, or he died. There was no alternative, no rethinking, the path was set, and here he was, lusting to fulfil it.

He went straight in, no hesitation, no recess. Deeper and deeper into the dragon's cave his hooves carried him, not knowing whether the end of their journey was the instant burning dead, which he had welcomed with open hooves, or a long and painful suffering. In both cases, death seemed dominant, shadowing all other possibilities of a better outcome.

The air moved. A rythmic breathing, mighty as a storm, was hearable, just as the powerful pulsation of a giantic heart that echoed through the cave. It was cold, very cold, actually not the favourite living condition of a dragon but Furvus the Cold was well known for his different lifestyle.

"It has been a long, long time since something dared to enter my domain."

The voice was deep, throaty, and incredible loud and strong, in fact, so powerful and loud that the entire cave shaked under the simple words of its owner. A giantic, fiery, reptilian eye took his young and rampaged body into focus. They way up the mountain and the walk through the tundra had left their marks, and if not the dragon, the exhaustion would definitely kill him in the end.

"At long last, a pony found its way into my realm again, but it looks so young. Tell me, small pony, what is the intent of your visit.

The dragon spoke very slowly, nevertheless, the might of his voice was like a wall as it reached him, pushing him a few feet away, luckily he stood firm, otherwise it would have thrown him on the ground.

He gulped. Here we go. His big time. He had to act fast and slyly, or else his time was short measured.

"I am here to talk, mighty dragon of the mountain."

"To talk? You do not want to talk, small pony. I can see it in your eyes. You want to corrupt and persuade. Your mind is full of hatred, your small heart beats only to take vengeance. If you really want to talk, young one, tell me, what created that devil before me.

"My past and what happened to me is none of your concern, wyvern. Only what I want to offer you is germane to you."

As soon as the words left his mouth his heart stopped. Why did he say this? He wanted to be sly and ensnaring. He was lucky that he came so far, so why was he being so unrespectful. Darkness took over his mind again, searching for control. His body shook immensely, his mind raced. Slowly he lost the fight, giving in to the dark.

"So small, so weak, and still so brave. I can see the darkness that takes hold of your mind, pitiful one. I can see your pain, slowly transformed into hate and power. Tell me, what created this lost soul."

"Listen lindworm, I do not have time for your games. I searched for a mighty ally that wants to break its chains as I want to, but this coldness seems to affect your mind and let you become weak and lazy, sitting in his cave and doing nothing to stop the invaders on his own "

Instead of instantly killing him for these insults, the black dragon started to laugh loudly. The power of it let the cave violently shook and pressed against his small body, letting him slide across the ground, but he remained firm, his head rised proudly.

"Such bravery, defiant dwarf. When it is Death who you searching for, you have to search him somewhere else. When it is my attention what you searched for, you were successful. What invaders do you mean."

The small pony's face showed a mad grin. "The Crystal Empire, of course. For years now they expand their realm, challenging your power with their insolence of beauty and power. For years now it is that you watch them rise to more power while resting in your cave like a coward. I'm asking you to come with me and take back what once was yours."

The Empire always was a calm neighbor. I see no reason to think why they should searched for conflicts, and so no motive to attack."

He started to scream, trying to channel all of what strength was left into his voice.

"No motive to attack? You're a dragon, I thought, since when does a dragon need a motive to attack. They insulted you with their sheer presence. Of course, they were always nice and peaceful, they would never start a open conflict, because they know of your power, but, year for year, piece for piece, they're getting stronger, secretly stealing more and more of your land and power, till the can overwhelm and banish you, like the dragons did."

He knew he had hit on a raw nerve with the last part. The dragon went silent, thinking about what just was said.

"Smart, little devil. I can see what you are trying to show me, and I can also see what your intention is here. You want to make me angry, feed me with hatred and rage till I kill you and the whole Empire with you.
He paused. "So, did they create you. Corrupted by powers of dark and evil. Living enternaly with pain of the worst kinds, suffering until there is only numbness."

The dragon let out a flame of pure white. It was fire, but instead of spending warmth and heat, it was cold, cold as the snow outside. So cold, the temperature of the whole cave sunk instantly.

"From my birth on, I was different than the other dragons. They were loud, angry, wild, always testing their limits, always fighting. I was different, I was calm, silent, composed, and cold. Every dragon has from birth a certain temperature. The higher the temperature, the stronger the dragon. It was a unwritten law. Mine, though, was cold, and with that I mean a coldness like the temperature you can experience outside. They banished me, because I was unlike every other dragon, something new. They feared me, what I could represent. So they banished me, hoping that I'd find death, but I did not. I became stronger and stronger, and eventually, at long last, I was more powerful than them all, but I also was alone. I lived here in this mountains for a time that cannot be described by a number. I was like you, young colt. I was a monster, but a monster for dragons."

The mighty beast moved its body, the sound of shattering ice was hearable, and an entire avalanche of icebites crackled from the giantic wings and back of the creature.

"You want me to destroy? I rested for aons here. There was nothing that had my attention in this world. All creatures that once were my enemies are dead, and there was nothing that could challenge me openly. I am the last dragon of the old time. Feared by everything, a force no one ever could call ally."

The mountain shook as the ancient dragon started to move for the first time in ages.

"But you are right, every rest has an end. You want the power to destroy, your eyes shine with this desire. You wield the power, lost creature, but you do not know how to control it, instead, it controls you."

He brought his massive skull at one level with the tiny colt.

"Do you want to learn how you can control it, young demon?" His question sounded like a statement, as if there was no way the dragon could be wrong. "I could show you dark paths no other living creature has ever walked upon. I can show you the magic of the ice and the cold, as of the dark. You also shall be feared and known, and then you will have it, your revenge."

The small colt only had a maniac grin plasted on his face. "Teach me."

The white tundra stretched as far as the eye could see. It could be late afternoon, but it was never easy to tell the time in this forsaken land. To feel the sun's rays on the face was a rarity, and without the right equipment like a thick fur, magic, or a nice fire, the sojourn in this land was going to be a short one. It gently snowed upon the barren country, a barmy wind let the snow danced magically through the air before it softly put it on the icy ground, wrapping the world in a tender embrace.

A pony sat in a considerable high at an entrance of a mighty cave, silently observing the playful wind's game with the snow. Beside him laid a once white fox, its fur's former beauty was unrecognisably soiled, and slowly turned into a sinister black, similar to its master's, though, all of its wounds were almost healed, but scars showed that they were there.

They both quietly stayed there for a while, one rapt in thought and memories, the other totally mindlessly vegetating, only existing to serve, with its natural needs deprives, a soulless shell. One was the master, one the slave; one probably one of the most powerful warlock, one was an emtpy body, only there to obey. In the end, though, in a certain abstract way of thinking, the master was nothing more than his subservient, a soulless shell, deprived of all hope and happiness, only existing to destroy and to bring pain, to endlessly suffer.

Sombra stared at the deep black scale, time had no influence on it, immaculate and beautiful flowed it ahead of his empty eyes. Dragon scales are immune to all kinds of ponymagic, only rare and very powerful spells could harm it, since the resistance of a dragon grows with his aging, it was almost impossible to kill ancient dragons. Although, celestial magic could harm them, even kill them.

The dragon taught him almost everything he knew. How to survive in the cold, how to create spells so powerful they can bend the very dimension, and, most importantly, how to control the darkness inside of him. The black monster was also kind of his only friend, the only teacher he ever had. He briefly glanced at the fox beside him. It was quite ironic, he once stood here with a dragon, now it was a snow fox, a reminder of how much he had lost.

He sighed.

"Were are you old one."

What were his possibilities? The magic-restistance of dragons make it difficult to track them down, but since he had a scale, he could cast a spell that might find the owner of it. What different choice did he have?

He closed his eyes, took one last deep breath, and focused his entire mind on the object before him. His magic started to flow, gently enveloping the scale, inhaling its scent, its mark, to search and find its brothers. A small, bright green light rised from the scale and dashed a few metres away, then stopped, waiting for the caster of the searching spell to follow. The caster followed and soon they disappear in the scurry of snow. The fox stayed, and waited.

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Deep into the north the light led the pony, the driving snow did now grow, but also did not weaken. The pony was not disturbed by it, and almost casually trot after his guide. There was nothing in this area that would have dared to attack him, or even look in his direction. An aura of calamity was radiated by his pure presence, an aura everything sensed, and feared.

Suddenly the light stopped, first descending to the ground, then disappearing into the ice. Sombra kneeled down where the light vanished, one of his hooves cleared the place from the fallen snow, revealing that something massive lay below the ice, enshrouded by it like a prison.

He knew what lay there. The form was unmistakable. It was a dragon, but not only a simple dragon. It was the mighty corpse of Furvus the Cold. What had happened? What could defeat one of the oldest dragons? The ice, despite the continuous cold and snowing, would need centuries to devour such an enormous body, so the corpse had to lay here for a very long time. What creature was capable of powers so vast to slay such mighty beast? None that lives in the north, for sure. His enemies? Ponies? Impossible, they were and still are way too weak to perform an action of this extend.

Wait, they were two. The very two that were responsible for his fall. The very two that destroyed all of his plans and accomplishments in one swift move. Yes, they must have done this, nothing else could.

Anger boiled up in his body, his mind went mad as it collected the pieces and connected it. First, they defeated him, taking away everything he fought hard for, putting him into a prison for a millennium, and then, they dared to seek out for his ally, slaying him so far off of is cave.

They would pay for this. They all would pay for they have done. He was there. He would come and slay them all. No, he would imprison them like they did, he would make them watch how their subjects suffer from his reign. He would make them see what he is going to turn their land into. None of them would escape.

His entire mind went wild, his eyes like his horn shone in a mad green, a scream rushed through the air as he reared up and tramped on the ground with all his weight, unleashing his magic and rage. The force created a shockwave that rolled over the ice, completely freeing it from the snow blanket.

The ice cracked were he hit it. Slowly, he rised back to his proud composure, and his magic rankled itself through the ice, towards the corpse. From above it looked like a painting as the ice started to glow green. For a short moment it all went silent. Then, the ice cracked, everywhere. A massive claw worked itself out of the prison, clashing on the ground to seek support for lifting the entire body out of the shattering ice.

As behind him the giantic dragon worked itself out of the ice, his mind continued to rampage, voices screamed, whispered, argued, laughed madly; the battle was hidden behind his expressionless face, showing no countenance. Then a small smile appeared, and with one thought his mind was silent. He felt strong, the hate, the anger that flowed through him gave him strength, enough to exert this dark magic.

He turned around, his green, calm eyes met those of a beast that better had stayed imprisoned. They also were green, emotionless like the ones of the fox. There was no flesh, no organs, only bones, glowing brightly green. There were once was the heart, a green crystal took its place, madly beating, and sending out green magical veins to connect and control the body parts. That what was left of the wings were only a shredded, leathery membrane, barely strong enough to fly.

Sombra's smile only widened as he saw his powerful ally, and the relative good condition the body was in.

"Welcome back, old friend, you rested enough. Come, we have a war to prepare."

Author's Note

Well, here it is, first chapter and stuff. Sorry for taking so long, but my city kind of had a flood disaster. It was quite a mess^^, and I had to help.
Next chapter's already in production.