The last thing he sees before the darkness is blurry image of a horseshoe.
The first thing he sees when he wakes up is blood stained blades of grass.
The grey unicorn colt shakily rises to his hooves. His muscles burn in pain, stomach churning as he vomits up blood and sour stomach acid. Crusty, dried blood trails from his nostrils and he rubs at it with a black hoof. He hadn't made it outside of the school yard yet, it was going to be a long, slow walk 'home'.
--
Tatters waits on the steps of the Crystal Empire Orphanage Home. Sombra was late again. School had let out two hours ago, and while she hoped for the best surely it only meant the worse. Despite the beauty of the Empire, the ponies were very harsh towards outsiders. Like Manehatten and Canterlot royals, they didn't accept those who were different. She remembers stories of ponies who were shot in the streets and hung in the grounds below the Crystal Castle. Ponies who snuck into the empire on the day of the crystal fair, when the crystal heart gave off its radiance and any pony who basked in the light was given a shimmering coat, were punishable by immediate death. They were easily caught, ponies not naturally born in the empire lost the crystal effects after 24 hours. You do not become a crystal pony, you can only be born one.
The old mare searches the horizon, and adjusts her glasses. From the path on the right a grey unicorn comes in to view. Sombra wasn't hard to recognize, his coat was light grey and solid. There was no crystal radiance from his coat, not even during the crystal fair. He moves slowly and shakily down the dirt path. Tatters gallops to him and the closer she gets the more mangled he appears. His face was crusted with dry blood form a nosebleed, left eye purple and swollen. His coat covered in hoofprints and was caked in mud, dirt, and tangled. There were cuts on his bare flank and his hooves were chipped.
He had been beaten again.
"Evening, Miss Tatters.." He says softly, keeping his head down as the aged mare trotted to his side. She pushed her flank against him for support. Despite her kind attempt to nuzzle his face, Sombra lurched away and averted his gaze from her. Sombra has been a quiet child since foalhood. Tatters found him laying in a dumpster one night, tossed away like a broken toy. He knew he was different, he was constantly reminded. It was bad enough to be a blank flank at this age and unable to do most standard magic apart from basic telekinesis, but god forbid he not be a crystal pony.
Tatters asks who did this to him.
Sombra doesn't answer.
--
"Here, let me wipe off all this blood on your nose.." Tatter dabs at his muzzle with a wet rag. Sombra looks away from her, horn glowing with a red aura as he uses simple magic to peel and place bandages on his cuts and wounds. After a minute he pushes her hoof away.
"Miss Tatters, why do you bother with me?" He says sternly. She notes that his voice is cracked, this was the most he had spoken in days.
"What do you mean, Sombra dear?" She tries to move the wet rag back, put her pulls his head away.
He lays red eyes on her glittery, pale orange coat. Her greying mane was tied back; big red glasses resting on her muzzle. Then her cutie mark, a plaid patch attached to a sewing needle with black thread. She was a perfectly normal crystal pony. Cutie mark and all.
But what was he? Who was he? Were his parents even crystal ponies? Why was he still a blankflank?
"I don't belong here, Tatters," He says. "Why don't you just send me away?"
"Well, Sombra," She stands and closes the first aid kit, "Without you I would have no little colt to love. Besides, you're still a child, I can't send you out there all on your own. This old mare just doesn't have the strength to travel anymore, and you still need to be looked after."
The grey colt huffs angrily, "Of course you have other ponies to love! Abandoned colts and fillies wind up here all the time!"
"Now, Sombra. All those children have other families now. You're like a son to me. I can't love them like I love you."
It was true, any crystal foal that winds up here is swiftly adopted. They never stay longer than three weeks, and when here they avoid him like the plague.
Everyone hated him.
Everyone except Tatters.
And there was nothing he could do about it.
